'The Legend of Korra' Is Good, But More Episodes Would Have Made It Great

The otherwise exciting sequel series to 'Avatar: The Last Airbender,' available to stream on Netflix, has a timing problem.

legend of korra
Nickelodeon
Nickelodeon

The finale of Avatar: The Last Airbender, definitive and cohesive as it was, providing an end to a villainous regime as its protagonist finally reached his full potential, did offer up one question: Where do we go from here? A war that lasted a century, eradicated an entire culture, decimated another, and subjugated a third would leave its victors and survivors looking for answers and blame, and the world they lived in would never be the same as it once was.

The Legend of Korra (which premiered on Nickelodeon on April 14, 2012), set 70 years after the conclusion of The Last Airbender, offers some answers: Territory annexed during wartime has been converted into a democratic republic where people of all four nations, element benders and non-benders alike, live amongst each other. Aang has died, and with his death his Avatar self has been reborn as Korra, of the Southern Water Tribe, a powerful bender who has mastered three of the four elements by the time the show starts. Advancements in technology mean factories are now automated, people drive around in vehicles, and inflatable flying warships have become enormous passenger zeppelins. In the steampunk 1920s setting of Republic City, the capitol of this new melting pot nation, pro-bending has taken hold as a favorite new sport, pitting teams of one of each kind of bender against each other. If you got the feeling that this was a world that had outgrown any need for an Avatar, you'd kind of be right. 

There's a lot to love about The Legend of Korra. Korra herself is a buff, self-assured, refreshingly new approach to the Avatar—the polar opposite of gentle, meditative Aang in every way. Her band of friends, the new "Team Avatar," consists of pro-bending hotties Mako, a firebender, his earthbender brother Bolin, and rich heiress Asami, whose father's company is one of the harbingers of the industrial age. Korra's airbending teacher is Tenzin, Aang's now middle-aged son, father of three plucky young airbenders and often something of an Uncle Iroh surrogate, offering sage advice during Korra's toughest hours.

The side characters—surly metalbending police chief Lin Beifong, conniving war profiteer Varrick, and Tenzin's siblings Kya and Bumi—are delightful, and the show's villains—like Book 3's homicidal gang lead by Zaheer, and Book 4's violent metalbending conqueror Kuvira—are often given the same careful nuance as its main characters. Even when they're not at their best, the seasonal plotlines are at least interesting, and the show's eleventh-hour exploration of gender identity and sexual orientation, especially one geared toward younger audiences, is worth undertaking the journey. 

The Legend of Korra saw its share of criticism when it aired, and declining ratings meant that its final fourth season was never broadcast on Nickelodeon, instead appearing online on the channel's website in weekly installments. Korra, it's surely needless to say, is not Avatar: The Last Airbender. Where The Last Airbender took three seasons to tell a single story—Avatar Aang's globetrotting journey to master all four elements and defeat an evil warlord —Korra, whose world has been expanded into an age of technology and politics beyond kingdom vs. kingdom, tells a story a season, ranging from the terrifying (Book 1's anti-bending terrorist Amon) to the silly (Book 2's cosmic retcon of the Avatar's connection to the Spirit World).

None of these things would necessarily be an issue if the seasons were as long as The Last Airbender's had been: 20 episodes (21 in the third season), each shorter than a half hour. Korra, on the other hand, only has 12-14 episodes per season, which means that Korra's plotlines often feel rushed, characters make sudden, rash decisions that don't make sense given what we know about them, and the finales, time and again, pull the punches they spent the entire season setting up. 

the legend of korra
If you know, you know. | Nickelodeon

The problem with Korra is not that it's a bad show—it's that its plots are too good to condense into what essentially amounts to four hours of story. It was my, and many's, main criticism of the final season of HBO's Game of Thrones, which crunched two final showdown battles, a major character's heel-turn, and the downfall of a monarchic government into six one-hour episodes—down from the show's usual 10.

Korra Book 1's introduction of Amon, a domestic terrorist whose band of followers terrorize a city with threats to eradicate element bending from the world for good, and then making Korra face him though she's petrified at the thought of having her bending taken away, already sets up what could have been a perfectly compelling three- or four-season arc, set amid the new machine age and against the backdrop of pro-bending (arguably the best new thing Korra ever did, which is never seen again in subsequent seasons aside from a few scattered episodes).

Instead, Amon and his followers (and any talk of how people without element powers deal with living in a world in which they are paramount) are rushed out of the picture in 12 episodes, setting up the widely derided Book 2, which the show never quite recovers from. Time and again, Korra is told that her Avatar purpose is to uphold balance in a rapidly changing world, but this world is already changed enough from what we knew—it would have been easier and more interesting to give the show enough time to explore that.

Need help finding something to watch? Sign up here for our weekly Streamail newsletter to get streaming recommendations delivered straight to your inbox.

Emma Stefansky is a staff entertainment writer at Thrillist. Follow her on Twitter @stefabsky.