#also the entire cast being adults except for aang.........

[praetorqueenreyna]

SIGH like at the end of the day, there is nothing a live action ATLA show could bring that we didn't get in the animation. Other than appealing to the most annoying parts of fandom who want to deprioritize Aang.

[low-budget-korra]

The Legend of Korra_Book 04: The final we deserved

This one's gonna be short

It's not the end we needed, but the one we deserved.

I like book 4 but we would agree that book 3 was perfect and had one perfect finale, I think book 4 could be considered more like a epilogue.

Do not get me wrong but Book 3 ended in a very strong way. There was an epic battle. The price for the victory was high, had a great sacrifice from the protagonist, also had emotional development of the villains (the price could be too high for them too), had the consecration of an important character and was quite touching.

In fact, the entire book 3 was perfect, it's one of my favorite seasons of all the series i ever watched.

But we know that the end of Book 3 was very depressing and pessimistic / realistic (it depends on the point of view), and although it was great in terms of set piece and all, it was not enough for us, the audience.

It could have ended there and continued with the comics but I think the creators decided they needed to tell more about this adventure / fight and im glad they did.

We see them here dealing with something that, unfortunately, is not much approached when we speak of powerful characters (such as super heroes for example), which is what I call "after the fight"

There is no going home to watch a Netflix after a fight like the one that Korra had with Zaheer, and I found it of utmost importance and relevance to be approached in Korra. We see a heroine with PTSD.

But again, I dont want to go too deeply into the subject of Korra and Korrasami, she deserves her own Review

Do you remember Kuvira who saved Korra's dad in Book 3? Yeah, she turned into her own version of Hitler.

In the end, we see that she just wanted to ensure prosperity and order for her people (Earth Kingdom).

Remember, dictators always think they are doing good to their nations(and themselves) and that this is more important than any consequence. And also that whenever a government is destabilized, these "heroes" will appear promising to restore the country.

Except that they consider only part of this country who agrees with their agenda.

Dictatorship may seem like the solution in times of danger, but it is a danger to think like that.

After being saved by Korra, when they Avatar saves her from her own weapon, creating a new spiritual portal in the hearth of Republic City (Raiko must have been so angry with thay), Kuvira decides to surrender. She was humbled to recognize that it was not right and to thank The avatar for saving her life.

Kuvira had little development, but much charisma. I particularly wanted to know more about the character.

We also have some parallels from her with Korra from Book One, such as the will to do things without thinking of the consequences.

The whole season was on Korra. Mako, Bolin, and Asami followed their lives when the Avatar was out.

It was hard to see Bolin as a soldier, but I believe he came into this much more by the innocence of finding himself helping people than by vocation.

Mako as Wu's private security, was fun. Wu was also an interesting addition to the cast but without much develophment because again, the focus of the season was really Korra.

Asami took over as Republic City's engineering. And probably one of the most rich people on The city

It was really cool to see these characters growing up and becoming young adults. After all, book 4 goes 3 years after his predecessor.

In the final battle we had a version of "united we will win" that we saw at the end of The Last Airbender, where, although a lot of people forget it, Aang did not win the Fire Nation alone.

He needed the wiseness of the Lion Turtle, he needed Zuko and Katara when they both beat Azula, he needed Sokka, Toph and Suki when the three destroyed Ozai's fleet.

And so, Korra also needed help to overthrow Kuvira's colossus.

The avatar also needs help and there is nothing wrong with that.

The final battle was good but well below the final battle of Book 3. Something I noticed was also the difference between the soundtrack. The music that plays in the battle of Korra vs Zaheer is much more epic, whereas the one that touches when Korra and the squad is fighting against Kuvira, is more militarized.

(me vs life)

Another important point was the help of Zaheer in the recovery of Korra. Reviewing again, I found it very problematic. Like, get help from someone who almost killed you? It sounds crazy.

It's hard to believe.

For Korra's luck, Zaheer was sensible and in fact helped the Avatar to end a problem that was born when he murdered the earth queen. But I think that was a narrative choice to show to us Korra facing her fear, seeing Zaheer not as a unstapable monster but a human instead, without all this don't being inside of her mind in the most fight club kinda of thing

But I think the highlight , a part from Korra and Korrasami, was Toph's appearance.

In which I will highlight two lines of it

One, when she says that "The names change but the streets stays the same" about her work in the police and this fight against crime.

This is something that, for countries with social inequality, is reality. For in these countries, it focuses on restraint of the problem, punishment and what I call "failure policy of fear", not on prevention of the problem.

Something that this failed policy of fear is linked to an expectation of "act and consequence" and reward that the criminal may have. And let's face it, criminals are not known to have these thoughts about consequences

Act and consequence, is to evaluate. For example, if I steal a store, I can be arrested and spend a few years in jail and my life would not be the same after. The act of stealing generates a lasting consequence. Its Worth it? For me, a college student who still has a promising future, does not. For someone who literally has nothing to lose? Maybe

Another thing is when Toph suggests that, the problem with villains is that they are out of balance and that Korra might learn something from them.

And this is a very important lesson, many times we have to find meaning in suffering so we learn something and evolve. It means being able to learn something even with the worst of tragedies. And that takes a lot of courage.

And the final ...

Just one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, no joke. And to see the impact that the end has had, both for television and the audience, is always refreshing and even after years, continues to bring me tears.

We can not forget that before having anything non-heteromative in cartoons, we had, for example, a cartoon like The Legend of Korra that in 2014 dared to go beyond, dared to embrace something out of the standard. And so, it made a difference in the lives of many people, including mine.

[moriganstrongheart]

The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars – Analysis

by Michael Dante DiMartino & Irene Koh 2017, Dark Horse Comics Paperback, 80 pages, $10.99 USD — each

Rating: ★★★★☆

Good: Faithful to animated series, Korrasami relationship ​Bad: Shallow, uninteresting conflict and villain

​[ ! ] Spoiler Warning

Preface — The Legend of Korra

I first read about The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars some time ago on Tumblr, and I was immediately interested in the exploration of a relationship between Korra and Asami. I was also excited that Michael Dante DiMartino (and the rest of the Avatar creative team) would have the chance to do justice by Korra, given the disappointing run The Legend of Korra had. I’ll begin by disclosing that I thought that The Legend of Korra animated series was good. It’s not Avatar: The Last Airbender, but it was good. Just as Korra had to live in the shadow of Aang’s achievements, so did The Legend of Korra have to live up to the success of The Last Airbender’s success. The Last Airbender was an anomaly that came out of nowhere to achieve widespread success. I doubt Nickelodeon even knew what they were getting into when they started producing the series. Their bread and butter shows were the likes of Spongebob Squarepants, Fairly OddParents and Jimmy Neutron—all of them silly comedy cartoons without much depth. The Last Airbender—by comparison—was an emotional roller coaster of action, comedy and excellent world building. The Last Airbender wasn’t really Nickelodeon’s style, and I strongly believe it only pulled through thanks to its runaway success and marketing potential. Children and adults alike had a new world to explore, and almost every member of the Aang Gang was a bright-eyed, innocent child with only a passing knowledge of the world, making them the perfect surrogates for the audience.

The Legend of Korra is different. Where the Aang Gang was mostly positive and outgoing, ready to take on the world, The Legend of Korra’s cast is basically made up of three Zuko’s and Bolin. They are teenagers—angry with the world and ready to fight against it. There’s no longer any wonder or whimsy; instead, the world is plagued by bad politics and social injustice, with the most interesting conflicts being social or emotional, not physical. It’s made clear from the start that Korra is an accomplished fighter who can handle just about anything, and the only time she actually struggles is when faced with social or emotional situations. The only exception may be the third season, which has some of the best martial arts in The Legend of Korra.

And because of these differences, The Legend of Korra had a difficult time catching off. Fueled by the success of The Last Airbender, many fans—including myself—were excited to see where Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino would bring us next. While I now think The Legend of Korra is good—and in some aspects, better than The Last Airbender—I must also admit I did not enjoy my first viewing of the series. I believe the weekly release format didn’t do the series justice, and It wasn’t until I watched it from beginning to end many years after its conclusion that I came to appreciate how good it actually was. Perhaps if The Legend of Korra has been released in the era of binge-worthy streaming television, things would have turned out differently. There are also some issues with animation quality, which varies wildly throughout the series. I can’t be sure, but it felt as though Nickelodeon just wasn’t as invested in The Legend of Korra as they were with The Last Airbender. I think the best proof we have of this is that the series finale didn’t even air on live television, but was streamed on the Nickelodeon website instead. They wanted nothing to do with it near its conclusion, or so it seemed.

It’s a shame because the series is so much better once you sit down to watch it all in one go. All four seasons are intertwined, weaving a story much more complex and personal than its predecessor. The Legend of Korra also carried many of the same qualities that made The Last Airbender so great: excellent world building; interesting, complex characters; and realistic emotional conflicts. I’ve seen a lot of people criticize The Legend of Korra’s writing, but I think that too many fans of the original series had the wrong expectation going into this new series. What people wanted was The Last Airbender 2.0—a continuation of the story they grew to love, with the same characters, only older. But The Legend of Korra is a new story—one about a group of teenagers at the forefront of change in a strange world of untapped power. It just so happens that it follows the events that occurred in The Last Airbender, and only references its predecessor insofar that it is relevant to the story. Flashbacks and callbacks never feel gratuitous or unwelcome.

I believe it’s important to detail how I feel about The Legend of Korra because I think it would be almost impossible to appreciate Turf Wars without having previously enjoyed The Legend of Korra and its characters. As Turf Wars takes place immediately after the closing of the animated series, it relies on the reader knowing these characters and being able to empathize with them without much effort from the writing. In some ways, I think this works; the characters act and speak like they do in the animated series, so I felt immediately immersed and attached to them. However, characters newly introduced in Turf Wars lack any character development, and the plot suffers as a result. Thankfully, there are some ways to appreciate the graphic novel while ignoring the primary conflict and characters introduced to support it.

The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars • Part One

​As previously mentioned, I was first made aware of Turf Wars through Tumblr. I believe I was following Irene Koh or someone who followed her work, so I was aware of when and where the first chapter would come out. If I didn’t end up pre-ordering Turf Wars • Part One, I definitely did pre-order the next two chapters. I did so for a couple of reasons. First of all, I had just re-watched The Legend of Korra from beginning to end and thought a lot better of it. It felt coincidental that a graphic novel was being released at the same time I had re watched the entire series, so I was excited to see how they would conclude Korra’s story. Secondly, I was surprised to learn that Turf Wars would feature a homosexual relationship. ​Back when Turf Wars was announced, this was a big deal. I was interested to see how they would approach the subject, and I wanted to show my support for this kind of representation, especially as it was aimed at younger audiences. I confess that I was originally dubious regarding Asami and Korra’s relationship. At the series’ original end date, the reveal that both Asami and Korra were bisexual felt like the creative team wanted to be inclusive, without actually taking any real steps to being inclusive. It was as if to say: “Oh and yeah—by the way—they’re gay.” My thoughts have changed since then, thanks to my time spent re-watching The Legend of Korra in its entirety. The building blocks were there—their relationship was just more subtle than others we’ve seen in the Avatar universe thus far. I’ve even come to accept that Korra and Asami’s relationship is much more genuine than some of the other romantic relationships Korra had in the past.

Part One of Turf Wars does a good job of easing the reader back into the world of The Legend of Korra. The character writing is excellent, and I often find myself hearing the voices of the characters when reading their dialogue. For the most part, characters act and talk just as they did in the animated series. I also appreciate that the story essentially begins seconds following the end of the series, with Korra and Asami entering the spirit world together for their vacation. Korra and Asami’s vacation is the highlight of this volume, as is their visit to Korra’s parents and the ensuing conflict. It’s everything I wanted from the graphic novel when I first learned about it.

However, following these events is when the primary conflict is introduced. I felt nothing for the two antagonists—Wonyong Keum and Tokuga—as they are just knockoffs of past, much more interesting antagonists from both The Legend of Korra and The Last Airbender. Keum and Tokuga are shallow and underdeveloped, meant to drive the plot forward and nothing else.

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At this point in this analysis, I’m going to take some time to propose some changes to Turf Wars that I think would make its message come across more clearly, while keeping the spirit of the story DiMartino attempted to tell. If you’re not interested, I have delineated this section and others like it so you can skip it if you wish.

​It’s a shame because both Keum and Tokuga represent areas left unexplored in The Legend of Korra: capitalist industry and the inner city gangs of Republic City. When you sit down to think about it, it’s incredible how fast the world of Avatar has progressed in fifty or so odd years. At the beginning of The Legend of Korra—seventy years following Aang’s “resurrection”—Republic City is experiencing the height of an industrial revolution. Motorized cars, electricity, radios, combustion engines and concrete construction are all commonplace items in this new world, familiar to all who live there. And these things don’t come out of nowhere. As strong as bending is, it’s made apparent that even with benders, hard labour is required to build and maintain this new lifestyle. There are also a few different companies that enjoy a position of privilege in Republic City; Future Industries, Varrick Global Industries and Cabbage Corp are just some of the ones we know of. This creates a divide between the capitalist elite and working class citizens.

Instead of a single CEO claiming the land around the Spirit Portal as his own, I think it would have served the story better if all industry leaders were looking to reclaim the Spirit Wilds for themselves. Really, I doubt that Keum was the only industry leader to incur heavy losses following the opening of the Spirit Portal. Since DiMartino was already portraying President Raiko as an incompetent figurehead only interested in keeping his position of power, why not have him work with the capitalist elite to take back the Spirit Wilds, all in the name of economic prosperity? The capitalist elite could also have lobbied to drive out the poor and the destitute from the Spirit Wilds, as they would want these lands for industrial development, not housing. With the capitalist elite pulling political strings from the shadows, there would be no need for Keum, who is underdeveloped and one-dimensional anyways. Raiko would have a much larger and more realistic role to play, as he would be the mouthpiece the capitalist elite, while seemingly advocating for the good of the city. Instead of an incompetent politician, he would seems crafty, multi-faceted and more of a foil to Korra than he has ever been.

Without a greedy, manipulative CEO to argue with, the conflict becomes much more complex and interesting once Korra gets involved. She can’t just shout and make a scene; there’s no enemy, just a general sense of injustice as those in power use their money to influence politics. She could still argue with Raiko, but he could make her feel guilty by shifting the blame to her for opening the Spirit Portal in the first place. It then becomes less clear what Korra can do to help the people of Republic City. Does she start fighting against industry leaders, which includes her new girlfriend Asami? Or does she attack Raiko, once again driving a wedge between herself and the politicians of Republic City? She would know she can’t side with the capitalist elite, even though the people seem to be on Raiko’s side.

Shifting the focus in this way could have also helped to solidify Tokuga’s role in the narrative. Just like Keum, Tokuga represents a side of Republic City that hasn’t been really explored. Rapid progress in Republic City inevitably produced a significant criminal element; as the privileged secure their place in the world, many are left behind to pick up the scraps. Inequality is briefly explored in the first season of The Legend of Korra, though the focus is on power inequality, not wealth inequality. It seems reasonable to me though, that this feeling of inequality would make a comeback following Kuvira’s attack on Republic City. Many people are without homes and quite a few people would have acquired bending thanks to spirits coming back to the world. Street gangs full of benders were mentioned in passing in The Legend of Korra, but acted as little more than backdrops for Mako and Bolin’s childhoods. Tokuga was a chance to expand on these themes, to make him a voice for the poor and destitute. There’s some attempts at making him interesting, but he ends up being shallow and one-dimensional—just like Keum.

Tokuga could still be the leader of the triads, but I would have liked for him to be older and more established in the world. His introduction doesn’t make much sense, and it never felt like he earned his position. The other big change could be that Tokuga and the Triple Threats are at first working for the capitalist elite, but then are betrayed—cast aside like trash because he and his gang are seen as disposable. This betrayal could happen at the Spirit Portal—just as it happens in the graphic novel currently—but instead of Tokuga going after Keum, he could rally other the gangs, the poor and the destitute under him with his newfound dark spirit powers.

So, with Tokuga focused on taking the city for himself and the capitalist elite of Republic City trying to reclaim the Spirit Wilds, Korra sits at a crossroads at the end of Part One. She must simultaneously deal with a faceless enemy at one end of the spectrum, and a growing triad threat at the other. She can fight the triads, but that leaves things open for the capitalist elite to lobby for the Spirit Wilds, or she can fight the elite, which aligns with the interests of the triads.To me, this is immediately much more interesting and complex, and rings much more true to the world building. It also embodies the spirit of what I think Turf Wars was trying to say.

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In their current incarnations, Keum and Tokuga just don’t do enough to justify the plot in Part One of Turf Wars. Their motivations are as shallow and undeveloped as their characters. The only thing that saves Part One for me is the beginning of Asami and Korra’s relationship and the interactions between the characters I’ve come to love from The Legend of Korra. Most of the issues in this first chapter will carry on to the next two parts. Thankfully though, so will the excellent character writing for Korra, Asami, Mako and Bolin.

The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars • Part Two

Turf Wars • Part Two has many of the same merits as the first chapter. Characters continue to be faithful to the animated series, as they act and speak much like they did in The Legend of Korra. And while Part Two suffers from many of the same problems as Part One, it is much more interesting overall as it does not have as many scenes involving Tokuga, Keum or Raiko, choosing to focus on a police drama starring Mako and Bolin, and Zhu Li’s political ambitions. We also get some more development of Korra and Asami’s relationship, providing some moments of tension and some moments of wholesome interaction between the two.

​I truly feel that their relationship is the highlight of Turf Wars, in spite of the the sad state the main conflict is in through all three chapters. Although, Part Two may be the best chapter of all three since the main conflict takes a backseat, only showing itself near the halfway point and the end of the chapter. This proves to me that the main conflict just doesn’t work; if you can skip right past the main plot and still enjoy the story, there’s a problem.

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The following is a continuation of my speculative edits. Skip past this section if uninterested in my thoughts on how the story could be improved.

I actually feel the scene near the halfway point—with the triad members gambling and discussing Tokuga—demonstrates how shallow and boring Tokuga’s character is. As the members of the triad talk amongst each other, I felt immersed in the world and the concerns these gang members had. However, once the triad members begin talking about how “mysterious” and “enigmatic” Tokuga is, all tension is lost as DiMartino pretty much admits to the reader that Tokuga makes no sense, and shouldn’t even be in charge to begin with. Tokuga makes a surprise appearance, demonstrating how violent and ruthless he is, in addition to his mysterious nature. This is such a loss of potential. Turf Wars had the chance to really make its readers think, not only about same-sex relationships, women in power or politics, but about how society is structured to enforce wealth inequality. But instead, we got a shallow, one-dimensional villain bent on taking over Republic City, but with no other motivations or goals.

Tokuga is a little bit of an anomaly when compared to the other villains from the Avatar universe. Most of them had a crazy world domination agenda, but they had depth below their villainous facade. The only exceptions I can think of were the members of the Red Lotus, who were extensions of Zaheer’s will more than ends onto themselves. Tokuga is the most shallow villain that I’ve seen from the series so far; his design is also unappealing, especially once he is infected with the dark spirit. His dialogue exchanges with Korra always feel forced and nonsensical, as if DiMartino is alluding to a deeper and more complex relationship than what has been developed so far. In reality, they have only seen each other a couple of times, and only in combat. I have a hard time believing she would feel so much empathy for someone under those circumstances.

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While Part One attempted to set up a few different story threads, Part Two is obviously meant to be transitory chapter—a standard second act meant to build the tension for the climax and third act. It does a pretty good job at this, following the action through Bolin and Mako in the form of a police drama. This format also means we spend less time with Tokuga or Keum, since we’re supposed to be kept in the dark until his plan is revealed at the end of the chapter. While the reveal is underwhelming, less time with Tokuga is refreshing, even if the lack of a worthwhile plot was disappointing overall. Bolin and Mako’s buddy cop story, the Airbenders, Zhu Li’s political interests and—of course—Korra and Asami’s relationship were strong enough for me to ignore anything involving Tokuga or Raiko.

The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars • Part Three

Turf Wars • Part Three is what ended up determining how I perceived Turf Wars as whole. Throughout the graphic novel, I was never engaged with the primary conflict, but I was willing to continue reading until the end thanks to some of the strengths I’ve already mentioned, including the portrayal of Korra and Asami’s relationship in the first chapter, and Mako and Bolin’s police drama in the second. It wasn’t until I finished the third chapter that everything clicked into place for me: Turf Wars really did waste the opportunity to say something about wealth inequality in favour of having a villain whose only goal was to destroy everything. Tokuga’s plan is ridiculous, and not in a good way.

​Kuvira built a giant metal robot to attack Republic City. That sounds absolutely ridiculous. However, we spent an entire season with her beforehand, seeing how methodical, logical and cold she is. She is not some token villain, come to destroy the city like a Power Rangers kaiju. She performed the most intimidating power move she could conceive of, using technology she herself helped to create. She did what she thought was necessary, to an extreme only she thought she could manage. She was afraid of the Avatar, and only did what she’s done all her life: climb to the top, letting nothing stand in her way. When viewed in that context, her actions make complete sense.

​But Tokuga’s plan is just ridiculous. What would poisoning the entire city using an airship really do? And how quickly could he really do this before he was shot down? The Airbenders effortlessly control what poison does come down within moments. And most importantly: how could he realistically rule over Republic City as an iron-fisted dictator? All he has on his side is a small street gang. It could be argued that his dark spirit infestation had affected his judgement, but that would just be lazy writing. What’s worse is that Tokuga’s plan is just a crappier version of Amon’s from the first season of The Legend of Korra. Amon’s Equalists use air superiority and anti-bending weapons to take over the city, more or less in the same way that Tokuga uses Republic City Police weapons and airships. But while Amon had the backing of hundreds of specialized followers and the support of the people, Tokuga barely has his own street gang under control. It makes no sense, and we’re not even given any closure once Tokuga is defeated at the end; he simply disappears mysteriously into the spirit world.

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The following is the conclusion to my speculative changes to the story. Skip past this section if you’re not interested in reading my thoughts on this.

It’s such a waste of potential. Instead of having Tokuga attempt a rag-tag coup of Republic City using poison balloon ships, what if he had been gathering the underbelly of Republic City under his rule? Instead of fighting the Creeping Crystals gang, he could have covertly recruited them and other criminal elements under his umbrella with the promise of taking back the city from the capitalist elite. With the help of the tanks, mechs and the majority of the criminal element of Republic City, Tokuga could attacked every major industrial factory in Republic City, with the hopes of crippling the capitalist elite and claiming the city for themselves. They would also have the support of the poor, the destitute and the refugees Raiko had been ignoring. Tokuga could still have kidnapped Asami to help with improving or repairing the Republic City armaments; that would give more weight to Korra’s involvement, and her own internal conflict about what to do in this situation. She wants to help Asami and stop the attacks, but the capitalist elite had been purposefully undermining the poor and destitute, while funding Raiko’s inept presidency. Of course, she would eventually need to stop Tokuga, but her choices would have much more impact.

And Zhu Li could then use the events to her advantage, showing how corruption and wealth inequality had lead to these events unfolding, not Korra’s opening of the Spirit Portal. Her speech at the end would make much more sense, and be more appropriate to the events that occurred. As it is, her speech is nice and delivers a decent message, but doesn’t really fit the context of what happened. Republic City was not divided. The events that occur in Turf Wars are the result of the choices of three people: Tokuga, Keum and Raiko. Tokuga is a comic book villain, Keum is—for some reason—redeemed and Raiko is an idiot. There is no lesson to learn here, beyond some people are idiots and you just gotta deal with it. I feel like a broken record, but it’s such a waste of potential, especially considering how rich and detailed the world building is in The Legend of Korra. The series managed to take the building blocks introduced in The Last Airbender, and develop a world rich in history and steeped in progress. Turf Wars seems to have forgotten this, delivering a shallow comic book story unbefitting of the Avatar universe.

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But if you can brush past the main conflict, Part Three of Turf Wars has the same merits as previous chapters. Characters act and sound just as they did in the animated series, and Asami and Korra’s relationship remains the highlight of the whole thing. I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get another kiss, but I understand why their declaration of love took centre stage considering the target audience. This was not—after all—a romance novel for adults, but an adventure story aimed at children and pre-teens. The way in which Korra and Asami display affection to each other is appropriate for that age group, though one could argue that teenagers are more prone to climbing on each other whenever they’re given the chance. But it was wholesome, and it made sense based on how their relationship had built up over the previous two chapters. I’m truly happy that DiMartino managed to capture the characters as they were from the animated series, and kept them multi-dimensional and believable. I just wish he could have done the same for Tokuga, Keum and Raiko.

Conclusion

Two aspects of Turf Wars I haven’t discussed yet are the art and the panel compositions. I wanted to wait until the end to tackle these two, as there isn’t much variation in the quality of the art between each chapter. Irene Koh is the artist through all three chapters, with layout assistance from Paul Reinwand. For the panel compositions, I felt it was pretty consistent through and through, never distracting from the art or dialogue, but dynamic enough to make action scenes and tense emotional moments exciting to read. It was never too fancy or cinematic, which I always enjoy. Unfortunately, I have mixed feelings about the art. Colouring and line work is generally good; it’s a bit sketchy, adding a bit of personality to differentiate it from the animated series. However, lighting is generally flat and uninteresting, and character designs were inconsistent. While characters mostly follow the proportions and designs established by The Legend of Korra, Koh goes sometimes goes off-model, breaking my immersion in the process. Characters also tended to look flat when this happened, as if they had been squished into the panel. I do feel bad pointing out these flaws, as Koh is credited as the only artist, and most likely did sketches, lines and colouring all on her own. Normally, each step in the process in projects like these is handled by different people, and Koh tackled all three on her own. I think Koh did an amazing job with what she was given, though there’s always room for improvement.

DiMartino most likely ran into similar problems, as he is credited as the only writer for Turf Wars. However, he had the experience from working on both The Legend of Korra and The Last Airbender, so I’m not as eager to excuse his mistakes. Though, his experience does explain why the writing for existing characters is so good, even if anything involving new characters is passable at best. Both he and Koh would have benefitted from working with a team of artists and writers, rather than going at it alone.

Turf Wars—at its core—doesn’t seem to know what to make of itself. On the one hand, I can’t help but feel like it was meant to be a continuation of The Legend of Korra, but also a way to portray a positive homosexual relationship in media. As of me writing this analysis, Korra and Asami are one of the three same-sex “power couples” of western animation, along with Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe, and Marceline and Princess Bubblegum from Adventure Time. There are certainly other depictions of same-sex relationships in animation, but these have stood out to me as examples of how to do it right. As mentioned, I was initially skeptical that Korra and Asami’s relationship would make sense. However, DiMartino put a lot of time in developing their relationship in Turf Wars, and my own retrospective into the series helped me realize how fitting their pairing is.

And yet, the graphic novel is not called “Korrasami”. It’s called Turf Wars. This implies that DiMartino set out tell Tokuga’s story from the beginning, with politics and social issues being an important focus. Tokuga’s plan for domination, Keum’s greed and Raiko’s ineptitude are the weakest parts of Turf Wars. Zhu Li’s rise to presidency was interesting, though it felt underwhelming in context; she is obviously the better choice when compared to Raiko’s narcissistic incompetence. Mako and Bolin’s cop shenanigans made the second chapter bearable; I miss their relationship, as it was one of the highlights of The Legend of Korra. It often felt as if DiMartino was speeding us through anything to do with Tokuga, Keum or Raiko, putting focus instead on character interactions between established characters. I’m not necessarily complaining; the characters were the best part of The Legend of Korra, and continue to be the best part of Turf Wars. But, as a result, Turf Wars feels unfocused, untethered to any message or theme. It’s a series of moments in time, strung together by action set pieces and plot threads, whose ending would be completely underwhelming but for the declaration of love between Korra and Asami.

Turf Wars is worth a read if you enjoyed The Legend of Korra’s characters, and want to see them interacting together once more. It’s also worth it if your interest—like mine—was piqued by the announcement that Korra and Asami would be pursuing a relationship following the ending of The Legend of Korra. Sadly, the primary conflict and newly introduced characters in Turf Wars are disappointingly shallow and uninteresting. There’s a lot of wasted potential, and I feel that DiMartino would have benefitted from some help with the writing. But, Turf Wars makes up for it with the impact it has had on young LGBTQ+ individuals; I have seen how much Korrasami means to people, and I hope that we get more of this kind of representation in the future.

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