He can part water, command fire and wind, and move mountains. He’s not a super-Christian, he’s Avatar Aang, master of the four elements and protagonist of Netflix’s live-action version of Avatar: The Last Airbender (ATLA)which began broadcasting on Thursday.
Watching a live-action remake of a beloved animation is full of trepidation. In a bad adaptation, the humor is either awkwardly forced or removed altogether; costumes and casting choices can take on a cosplay aspect; and condensed, overwritten, or added plots suggest a fan-inspired medley organized by a high school drama club. New ATLAalthough a clear improvement compared to 2010 cross-dressunfortunately most often slips into these weaknesses.
I hate to give this verdict, because I wanted to like this series so much. And this desire is part of a greater desire to see imaginary worlds in the “real world” – to be, as CS Lewis said. wrote“to unite with the beauty that we see, to pass through it, to receive it in us, to bathe in it, to be part of it”, “to obtain In.” It is not enough to simply look at the beautiful stories, the mythologies with which “we have peopled the air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, nymphs and elves” – or, in this case, with masters and avatars.
As Lewis recognized, this desire is fundamentally rooted in Scripture (Revelation 22:1-5). And that’s why, even with repeated disappointments (I’m looking at you, Dragon Ball Z, The beauty and the Beastand Ginny Weasley), I will still watch live-action adaptations every time.
I first followed the story of Aang and his friends almost twenty years ago, when Avatar first aired as an animated series on Nickelodeon. At the time, I had never seen anything like it: a fantasy world clearly created in America but shaped by Asian (and indigenous) cultures, reflecting my own experiences as a Korean American. The top-notch writing tackles complex themes with hilarity and depth, and characters like Zuko have become some of my all-time favorites.
When all three seasons were released on Netflix in 2020, ATLA has enjoyed something of a revival, claiming the title of most-watched show on the streaming platform. Critically acclaimed judge it is similar “in spirit and complexity to the Lord of the Rings trilogy”, “both a comfort watch and a means of catharsis.” Rotten Tomatoes rated it 100 percent fresh. I knew ATLA had made it a cultural fixture when I came across a large climbable replica of Appa, the Sky Bison, in a New Jersey mall.
This new version largely follows season 1 of the original. In a world where some people can “bend” or telekinetically control water, earth, fire or air, 12-year-old airbender Aang (Gordon Cormier) is the Avatar, the only to be able to bend the four elements and who is therefore responsible for maintaining peace between the four other groups (or “nations”) of masters. But just when we need it most, as the famous saying goes introductory scene tells, Aang disappears, preserved in ice.
A century later, he resurfaces in a world dominated by the Fire Nation, who has completely wiped out the Air Nation and is at war with the Earth and Water Nations. Along with waterbender Katara (Kiawentiio Tarbell) and his brother Sokka (Ian Ousley), Aang embarks on a journey to stop the Fire Nation and its leader, Fire Lord Ozai (Daniel Dae Kim), and restore harmony.
This tale is marred by haphazard CGI, some questionable casting choices, amateur acting moments, and poor writing. However, despite these flaws, some points are correct. Aimed at older audiences, the episodes rely on difficult concepts that are handled more obliquely in the animated version. The production team’s careful attention to cultural accuracy – from large-scale renderings like the Southern Air Temple and the city of Omashu to the smallest details of tea sets, funeral scenes and on-screen signage – is commendable. And the episode with Koh (George Takei) in the spirit realm managed to be really scary, at least for my kids.
These successful elements bring to life a modern myth which, like all captivating stories, resonates with reality. Of course, Lewis’s reflection on our love of such myths comes with a caveat: As Christians, we must approach culture with discernment, even when watching “safe” shows designed for children .
Due to its Asian influences, ATLA is something of a Buddhist fantasy, appearing in story elements from the reincarnations and enlightenment of the Avatar to the monks of the air temple and in the general theme of balance in the universe. But, just as Lewis wrote about pagan-inspired Western mythologies, Eastern stories can fuel thoughtful Christian reflection or appreciation.
In Avatar, an obvious point of reflection is Aang’s possession of powers over elements that appear in scripture as miraculous demonstrations of God’s presence or authority. We are told that when we follow Jesus, a spring of living water will flow from our souls (John 4:14). With faith as small as a mustard seed, we can tell a mountain to move (Matthew 17:20). The Spirit of God moves through us like wind and breath, loosening our tongues and bringing dead bones to life, even metaphorically (Acts 2:2, Ezekiel 37:9). We are sons and daughters of a God who is consuming fire – and to know Him is to have fire locked in our bones (Heb. 12:29, Jer. 20:9).
When we read biblical passages like these, it is not enough to appreciate them on a literary or intellectual level, or even to see them alive in our imagination. We are made to live the reality that Scripture speaks of, to experience life in Christ for ourselves. Faith, ultimately, is still looking for the live-action version.
It is normal that this latest adaptation of ATLA was released during Lent. Like that of the four nations of the Avatar, our time is marked by division, war and power-hungry leaders. It is here, in the darkness of Lent, literally and figuratively, that we can most anticipate Holy Week – Maundy Thursday and that first communion – during which this Lewisian desire “to obtain In» is the most beautifully embodied.
During this Last Supper, Jesus said yes to our desire. He invites his disciples not only to look at him from the side, but to become one with him: to take, eat and drink of himself, to know him as the promised Savior, to unite themselves completely with him in his life, his death. and resurrection (Matt. 26:26-28, John 17:23). Here I amhe said: the true pillar of fire and cloud, the breath of life, the cornerstone, the fountain of life. Follow me.
This invitation is still valid. Jesus, the true master of the elements – earthly and sacramental – fulfills the prophecies and biblical stories and embodies them once and for all, enveloping us in his story: the ultimate reality. Thank goodness it’s unimaginably better than the new one Avatar.
Sara Kyoungah White is an editor at Christianity today.
