Last Friday, I wrote a short post about how I was disappointed with the first season of The Legend of Korra. I kept it pretty short and sweet, but enough people seemed interested in the subject that I thought I'd expand on why I felt the show's first season fell short.

As I mentioned last week, I'm a big fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender. It's one of my favorite TV shows of all time, right up there with The Wire and Friday Night Lights. (I'll never get sick of the disbelieving looks I get when I say that to people who haven't watched the series.)

Avatar: The Last Airbender (which you can watch in its entirety on Netflix or for free on Nickelodeon's website) was a richly rewarding show that practiced economical world-building with a level of assuredness that rivaled even the greatest fantasy fiction. By the stunning climax of its third season, the show had become so thoroughly satisfying that I still can't quite believe they pulled it all off.

I wasn't expecting the same kind of experience from Korra—if anything, I was hoping it'd be different. We'd already watched Avatar, and if anything, that show has gotten better with age. It was time for something different. I got an X-Men kinda vibe off of the pre-release stuff, and could easily imagine enjoying a 12-part miniseries about a teenaged Avatar coming into her own in a more modern and morally complex setting.

I understand that showrunners DiMartino and Knoietzko had some things change on them in the midst of production, and don't doubt that some of the shortcomings of the show were due to those outside factors. All the same, I gotta critique the show that I watched, and despite the fact that I liked it fine overall, I felt The Legend of Korra had some significant problems.

Here we go. Five ways The Legend of Korra went wrong. (Spoilers follow.)

1. Failure to Examine its Central Conflict in a Meaningful Way

The fundamental conflict of The Legend of Korra was a strong one: If benders are so powerful, what's to stop them from oppressing non-benders? What happens if non-benders rise up? It's the same conflict at heart of the X-Men comics, and it can lead to all manner of complicated, interesting moral dilemmas.

At the start of the series, it looked like Korra was going to explore the conflict in an interesting, honest way—Brash Korra had a few scenes in which she pushed around non-benders, and Big Bad Amon spent his first few scenes talking actual sense about the merits of the equalist movement.

Unfortunately, almost immediately after he was introduced, Amon hopped the bus to crazytown. He stopped sounding like a believable rabble rouser and became a straight-up evil cult leader. Worse, the eventual reveal—that he was a powerful waterbender who via retconned bloodbending could take away others' bending—only served to remove the whole thing even farther from the realm of non-benders. It became just another jedi-vs-jedi wank, without much of a thought for regular folk.

This was further exacerbated by the way the show chose to portray bending: more as a magical power than as a spiritual martial art. In that way, it felt similar to the Star Wars prequels, which eschewed the meditative, spiritual aspects of The Force in favor of making it into a magical superpower.

I would have loved to see the tribulations of non-benders presented more interestingly than they were, and for The Legend of Korra to have explored bending and the conflict between benders and non-benders with more honesty and nuance.

2. Awkward Balance of Comedy and Drama

The original Avatar also sometimes had this problem—it was a kid's show, but it was also a story full of loss, heartache, danger and drama. The two things certainly aren't mutually exclusive, but it can be hard to make both work. The first season of Avatar leaned a bit too hard on the easy jokes (Sokka's hungry! Aang is a goofball! Katara's a grump!) but later seasons hit an often sublime balance. By the time "The Ember Island Players" rolled around, the writers had were on an unstoppable roll, crafting a recap episode that hit a perfect balance of humor, drama, wistfulness and anticipation.

Korra failed to hit that balance, mostly because the show had simply evolved beyond children's programming. The adult aspects of the show were more weighty by design—the main characters aren't kids, they're teenagers, and the conflicts they're dealing with are even more complex than the conflicts in The Last Airbender. (Though the conflicts in Avatar were also plenty complex, even if they didn't seem it at first.)

I found that as I watched, I was in a much more focused, adult space—as much as I loved the scene where the kids fought back against the chi-blockers (the fart-bending in particular), it felt out-of-place on this new show. It could also be that the gags on Korra just weren't as funny as the gags on Avatar, but even if they had been, the show has grown up significantly, and so the writing, particularly the humor, needed to adjust to compensate for that. It didn't quite manage to.

3. Development of the Wrong Characters

This was partly due to the time constraints, but there were several times when I felt as though the show was developing the wrong characters. We got to know a lot about Asami and her relationship with her father, and we got to know a lot about Tarrlok, his brother, his father, and their sordid past.

But we never really learned all that much about Bolin and Mako, or Tenzin and Beifong, or hell, even Korra. One of the things The Last Airbender did so well was never overshare—it didn't tell us things until we needed to know them, at which point it would casually fill us in. With discipline, it would have been possible to do that again in 12 episodes, but I was surprised they chose to emphasize the characters they did.

And hey, speaking of 12 episodes...

4. Two Narrative Arcs Crammed Into One Season

The issue wasn't really that the show only had 12 episodes. Plenty of network dramas fit a ton of great storytelling into 12 or 13 episodes these days. In fact, most of those shows manage to have two primary plot-threads: one that runs for the first half of the season, the other that runs during the second half, unified by an overarching story.

However, those shows all have hour-long episodes, and Korra was stuck with half-hour episodes. Considering that, it was an overextension to have the story revolve around both the pro bending arc and the equalist movement arc. Sure, the two overlapped, but a couple of early episodes focused almost entirely on pro bending with very little time spent on the Equalists or on Korra's training.

Pro bending wound up feeling a bit like Quidditch in Harry Potter—an enjoyable diversion at first, eventually set aside as the story ran out of room for it. If the show had focused more directly on the Equalists, it would have had just enough time to do a thorough exploration of the whole benders/non-benders issue without shoehorning in a bunch of fun but inconsequential sports digressions.

5. The Ending

If the Mass Effect ending got panned for being too unresolved and unsatisfying, The Legend of Korra gets a ding from me for resolving everything far too tidily.

I understand that they wanted to give us some resolution, but did we really need to:

• Have Korra finally get in touch with Aang and her other past lives
• Have Korra finally master the Avatar state
• Get Korra and Mako together in the most conflict-free way possible
• Give Beifong and everyone else their bending back
• Get rid of Amon once and for all

• Sheesh, that is a heck of a lot of resolution for a few minutes of television! I would have been cool with maybe one of those resolutions… couldn't the others have waited a bit? I thought having Korra give everyone their bending back, Jesus-healing-the-sick-style, felt particularly excessive, as it undid Beifong's sacrifice at the end of the stellar Turning The Tides.

  
  

  It would have been much more interesting if Beifong and the other benders had needed to learn how to live without bending. Not only would that have made the ending more interesting and less perfectly resolved, it would have opened the second season up to another exploration of the bender/non-bender conflict I mentioned earlier.

  
  

  Instead, we got an ending that resolved every possible bit of tension, often in the most uninteresting way possible. Korra's finale felt like more than a missed opportunity—it felt like five missed opportunities.

  
  

  

  
  

  I certainly didn't dislike The Legend of Korra—I'll take any excuse to hang out in the Avatar universe a little bit longer. All the same, I wish that the show had carved more of an identity for itself while avoiding the pitfalls listed above.

  
  

  I'm glad there will be a second season, and hope that with all of the meet-the-cast kinks worked out, the showrunners can relax a bit and focus on one solid, interesting story. (And give us a bit more Naga, am I right?) I'm not sure if they'll be able to make the Korra that we were all hoping for, but I do think they can show us a really good time.

  
  

  In the end, the first season of The Legend of Korra felt at odds with itself: An awkward adolescent hunched uncomfortably at the kids' table, listening intently as the adults discuss more interesting things. It's time for our girl to grow up.

  
  
  (Bottom image by Immrx /DeviantART)

Hi there. I've been in charge of the "Off Topic Thread" for a little while now, and it's gradually morphed into something a bit different than it was when I started. Given that we're all getting used to our new Kinja-Ninja Kimbra-Nimbra discussion system, it seemed like a good time to simplify and reorganize our nightly off-topic thread.

One of the things Kinja allows is for anyone to set up a forum, as opposed to a discussion post. So, that's what we'll do—to go partake in off-topic comments, head over to the off-topic forum. You can also browse the Talk Amongst Yourselves forum, if your'e looking for more conversations to take part in.

At 10:30, I'll post something as usual, though it'll probably be a bit more off-topic than most of our video game fare. That way, we get an off-topic forum that will always be available, without the confusion of mixing it in with an actual post.

So, head on over there and get your off-topic on. Have good chatting!

The fun people are having with Valve's new Source Filmmaker continues. Not long after the secret of the Pyro's identity is revealed do we now get some rap, some Batman and a plea to please, please stop with the remixes of Meet the Heavy.

Did Valve realise that the release of this suite would unleash a flood of kids graduating from making great Garry's Mod movies to making better movies? You bet they did.

I wouldn't have guessed it, but deviantART artist Theresa Cartwright has a whole gallery dedicated to proving the naysayers otherwise.

They don't just include video game characters, either. Everyone from The Last Airbender's Aang to Breaking Bad's Jessie appears in that gallery. Even Jessie's meth head makeup is somehow, slightly, oddly charming in the squarified imagery in there.

Squaracters [deviantART via Dotcore]

Well, people are eating other people now.

Wait. Let me say that a better way: People are eating other people now, and everyone is dying to see it.

What do your young friends usually say when you ask them if they watch the news? "No, it's too depressing. Every time I turn it on, they're showing pictures of people who were murdered or raped or something. I just can't handle it."

If that's the case, then it sure doesn't explain the security camera footage and horribly graphic photographs of the "Miami Zombie Attack" getting millions of views, as well as the details of this insane cannibalism being a topic of discussion at nearly every party (even weddings!) I've been to in the last month. Reactions are diverse: Some people are terrified, some disgusted, but most of them… excited?

Yes, it took bath salts and a crazy homeless guy in Miami to further prove that people are absolutely obsessed with the idea of zombies, and gamers are at the front of the pack with shotguns cocked.

Dead Rising, Dead Island, Left4Dead, Lollipop Chainsaw, Resident Evil, Call of Duty: Nazi Zombies, Red Dead Redemption: Undead Nightmare, Telltale's The Walking Dead, Onechanbara, even Plants vs. Zombies—these are just video game examples, not including movies, TV shows, and the countless number of books and "strategy guides" for surviving an actual Zombie Apocalypse, should one occur. We want zombies. We crave them.

The question is, why?

Zombies, as we know them, are killers. They are disgusting monsters. They feed on living organs and seek to infect. Any sane person can agree that these are bad things. So, with these factors taken into consideration, where does this sick, twisted desire in our (delicious) human brains come from?

A proven design rule in video games has become "When in doubt, add zombies." The reason likely being because it's a nice change of pace from always fighting meatbag human beings.

But we can still ask, why zombies? Gunning down Cape Buffalo would be a change of pace, and those are probably smarter and more deadly than your average undead gimp. Or, even in the same vein of Halloween creatures, killing werewolves could be a change of pace. Yet, we don't have The Werewolf Island of Dr. Ned or Nazi Cape Buffalo expansion packs.

My conclusion? There's a guilt factor.

Humans, werewolves, buffalo—technically, they are all still alive, forcing us to end the life of a living creature. Killing a zombie, however, is a way for us to release bottled up rage on a target without feeling guilty. It's okay to bash in the face of a zombie with a rusty nail-adorned 2x4; it's socially acceptable to create a shish kebab out of three zombies and one chainsaw. Why? Because they're already dead. In fact, one could even argue that, because of their sad bodily state and lack of intelligence, we're putting them out of their misery.

This leads us to motive and doubt in combat. In a war scenario, such as Call of Duty, you are killing bad humans in order to protect good humans. In a Zombie Apocalypse scenario, you are killing monsters in order to protect all of humanity.

Whenever you pit humans against humans, there are questions: Are you fighting for the right side? Is your buddy secretly a traitor? Is any of this fair or morally sound? What are we truly fighting for? Don't our enemies have families? It's up to you to figure out if you're fighting for the right side… and if you're going to remain loyal.

When it comes to zombies, there is absolutely no question that you are fighting for the right side. You're saving humans—the team that counts—from genocide. Zombies don't have families. They don't have morals. They can't infiltrate your camp undercover. They're dead, and there will never be a shadow of a doubt that destroying them is a just cause. Like taking a can of Raid to a swarm of fire ants—the decision is a no-brainer. (Pun intended.)

It seems the only other fictional beings that so often bring us together in a similar way, fighting for Team Humanity, are aliens. And while it's usually apparent in the first hostile encounter whether or not it's a responsible decision to blow their heads off, thus eliminating the guilt factor, they still raise questions. Could we find a compromise? Is there a way to end this fighting and live in harmony with extra terrestrials? What can we learn from them, regarding intelligence and technology?

While an alien arrival presents a greater potential benefit, it also presents a much more difficult, advanced fight—one that cannot simply be approached with 2x4s and chainsaws wielded by the average human being.

This, again, adds to the approachability of zombies.

Despite the superiority of aliens as a species, zombies are still more loved and talked about. This seems to be because any Average Joe feels surprisingly confident about their chances in a match between them and a zombie in real life. I'll gladly admit that I would like to take on a zombie to see how I would fair, while at the same time hoping I never come into contact with an alien.

There is something sublime about the undead—that is, they are both beautiful and terrifying. Terrifying in the sense that they are rotting, limping corpses, depicted in fiction as bent on killing the living; beautiful in the sense that we want them to be real. Video games these days go for realism mixed with fantasy, and zombie games provide us with a wide variety of simulations and scenarios for a Zombie Apocalypse—a catastrophe that we would apparently welcome with open arms in the real world.

Though gamers continue to express their tiredness of video game zombies, the concept will never die. The bottom line? Killing zombies is fun—and we're proud to be part of the resistance.

I would like to open up a discussion on this topic because, as I've seen from past comments, many of you have solid, creative ideas. Thusly, I would like to hear these ideas and, also, take a shot of tequila every time someone says, "Musicals suck." You just became my Monday night entertainment!

Musicals are the reason I became an actor. When I was seven, my mom took me to see my first Broadway musical, which was Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. My mom recalls that I literally sat on the edge of my seat, wide-eyed and mouth agape, mesmerized with the musical pageantry. I wanted it to be ME up there on stage. I wanted that to be MY Fabulous Colored Dream Parka.

Nowadays, we have Broadway shows that range anywhere from movie adaptations, like Shrek: The Musical and Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark (which resulted in half the crew getting injured from ridiculous wire acrobatics and the loss of millions of dollars) (lol), to The Book of Mormon, a tongue-in-cheek comedy written by the South Park guys. It seems like the high priests of Broadway are letting just about anyone make musicals these days… no matter how absurd the content.

This forces me to ask the obvious question: Why aren't there any video game musicals?

I don't mean musical games, even though Epic Mickey 2 is going down that road in classic Disney movie fashion. I mean musical performances based on games.

Fans seem to get it. A recent YouTube hit, Zelda: The Animated Musical, was surprisingly well done, plus we've seen Pac-Man: The Musical, Frogger: The Musical, even a Princess Peach musical called "The Best We Can Be," which I'm unashamed to admit I find hilarious. Even artists like BrentalFloss write lyrics to video game songs all the time that are practically begging to be put into a stage production.

So… where are these stage productions?

Someone emailed me years ago about this stage show of The Secret of Monkey Island, and you've got to love this live action presentation of Mike Tyson's Punch Out! But, alas, neither are true musicals.

This brings me to yet another question: If you could turn any video game into a live-action musical stage production, comedy or drama, which game would you choose?

I can see Castlevania, the Portal games, Elite Beat Agents, and even Psychonauts being fun romps, while more story-driven games like Odin Sphere, Indigo Prophecy, and Bioshock could make for a really beautiful show. (Not all musicals are happy and filled with sequined tap dance finales, you know.) Prince of Persia could definitely be a musical—think a more badass version of Aladdin. I'd also die and go to heaven if I heard a heart-wrenching power ballad from Red Dead Redemption's Bonnie MacFarlane that would emulate "On My Own" from Les Misérables or "Easy As Life" from the Elton John and Tim Rice musical, Aida.

Similarly, I've been thinking lately that it would be great to see more video game sketch comedy. I mean, heck, if I knew the Upright Citizens Brigade or another comedy troupe in my area performed video game-related sketches every Thursday night at 9, I'd blow off all sorts of prior engagements and hot dates to be a regular attendee. So, I did a little searching, and son of a bitch. I found NERDProv.

NERDpov is an improv group based out of Seattle, WA (meaning I moved away from the Northwest at exactly the worst time). They specialize in performances based on geek culture, and audience members get to shout out references to their favorite nerdy shows, movies, comics, music, and games—then NERDprov brings them to life on stage.

While NERDprov may be considered "niche" entertainment, they're certainly reaching a wide enough audience to be considered a success. They boast sold out shows and have filled 500+ rooms at Emerald City Comic Con. Audiences seem to love the fact that the show is tailor-made for them. A normal improv audience would merely chuckle at a reference to Bastion, while a NERDprov audience erupts with laughter—everyone gets it.

Case in point, if you're in the Seattle area, check out NERDprov and support more game-related live shows. A friend of mine from the show, Michael Robles, has threatened to throw me on stage during a performance in the future… so, please see the show, then report back to me with what kind of tomfoolery I'm in for.

We are treated to an endless stream of nerd-related performances in video form, but they still don't beat the thrill and unpredictability of live theater. To me, a movie version of a musical will never compare to seeing the real thing, where lines are messed up, costumes malfunction, and amazing performances from the actors are evident in their "Nailed it!" facial expressions. Theater, may your shows always go on.

But enough sentimental crap. All I'm saying is that if Hairspray can get away with the role of Edna Turnblad, a large, loud flamboyant stage mother played by a man, Broadway should have no problem letting a chubby Italian plumber sing to us in Super Mario: The Musical.

Tell me your thoughts, guys!

Hey guys! Lisa Foiles here, kicking off my month-long season of content on Kotaku with a comedy sketch starring SMBC Theater's Jon Brence. In this true-to-life documentary, you'll witness many of my ideas getting hastily shot down by Jon before he realizes they're actually brilliant. Reminds me of the time I crept up behind Tom Clancy while he was writing Rainbow Five and said, "No, no. Make it Six."

For the next three Mondays, I will be posting fun content for an hour, starting at 8PM Eastern. My posts will range from articles and videos to guest columns and reviews about things like earrings made out of computer parts. I'm really looking forward to sharing my wide variety of opinions on video game culture with you and posting funny pictures of cats, probably. You'll get plenty of the humor columns you're expecting from me, as well as some deep, contemplative articles that I stayed up way too late writing.

In case you're the new kid here, come eat your Sloppy Joe at my cafeteria table for a few minutes while I tell you a bit about myself. And get that spitwad out of your hair. You look ridiculous.

I first appeared on Kotaku back in 2009, when Brian Crecente graciously posted a picture of my Harley Quinn Halloween costume and, needless to say, it was the greatest day of my life. I was an avid Kotaku reader, so it was truly an honor, plus it made all my friends pretty jealous. After getting to know the brilliant minds behind the site a bit more (that's you, Totilo!), I soon began writing monthly columns. This opportunity has not only introduced me to an awesome, attentive group of readers (that's you, person at home!), but has stretched me as a writer and a gamer.

Most of the pieces I write for Kotaku are humor articles, because I seem to struggle with taking anything seriously. In fact, when I first told my mom I wanted to be an actor at ten years old, she enrolled me in serious, strict, dramatic acting lessons, where I was taught how to fake cry and pretend to be an abused child from CSI or something like that. I don't really remember because I never booked a dramatic acting role. I only booked comedic roles. This eventually led to All That, which was four years of incredible TV experience—and my mom still didn't stop complaining about the money she wasted on those lessons.

These days, I do both—I act and I game. I've combined them in seductive harmony! In addition to the writing and videos I do for Kotaku, I've been working hard with The Game Station, not only hosting, but partaking in some really creative narrative programming. (In fact, I just got done with a four-day shoot in Malibu for a huge project and I totally puked my guts out on set in front of everyone—I'll tell you that story after the show debuts.)

And in scandalous news, I've recently been spotted canoodling with a certain game studio somewhere in the southern states. A member of the paparazzi was almost able to snap a photo before Alec Baldwin punched him. Check back with me in a few weeks for an update on that! I'm a tease, I know.

So, there you have it—a short bio with a few updates! Be sure to tweet with me each week (@LisaFoiles) as I combat the growing opinion that video games are super serious. Let's have some fun, gamers!

-Lisa

(P.S. To purchase one of the super cool custom necklaces that Jon wears in our video, check out his site, Ogeeku.com. Specifically in the store where goods and services are sold for reasonable prices.)

The publisher behind games like Mass Effect and Madden says it won't be selling its games at brick-and-mortar stores for much longer.

Speaking to GamesIndustry.biz, EA Labels president Frank Gibeau said it won't be too much longer before the company goes completely digital:

It's in the near future. It's coming. We have a clear line of sight on it and we're excited about it. Retail is a great channel for us. We have great relationships with our partners there. At the same time, the ultimate relationship is the connection that we have with the gamer. If the gamer wants to get the game through a digital download and that's the best way for them to get it, that's what we're going to do. It has a lot of enhancements for our business. It allows us to keep more that we make. It allows us to do some really interesting things from a service level standpoint; we can be a lot more personalized with what we're doing...

For us, the fastest growing segment of our business is clearly digital and clearly digital services and ultimately Electronic Arts, at some point in the future... we're going to be a 100% digital company, period. It's going to be there some day. It's inevitable.

Hope you've got broadband.

EA is "going to be a 100% digital company, period" says Gibeau [GamesIndustry.biz]

This new commercial for Nike, aimed at using social media and the company's Nike Fuelband gear to inspire athletes to train with/against each other, does a pretty good job of making me wish this is what Wii Fit actually looked like.

Video games are very popular. So is porn. If you ask game designer, Metagame co-creator and NYU Game Center founder Eric Zimmerman, they have some fundamental things in common.

Today, Zimmerman tweeted the above one-liner, pointing out that both games (particularly mainstream blockbusters) and porn center around repetitive activities premised on "visceral pleasure and spectacle."

He followed up on that thought, saying: "I'd prefer to hypersexualize games, rather than de-sexualize them. Why not use Clockwork Orange and Macho Sluts as models for game design?"

Porn may have "bad" connotations in a lot of western society, but Zimmerman was quick to point out to fellow NYUer Charles Pratt that he has nothing against porn per se— "Porn is strange & wonderful," he wrote. "Beyond its politics of representation, it's a cultural form based on corporeal pleasure."

What do you'all think? Are games like porn? Is porn at all like games? If you had to give up games or porn, which would it be?