To cut to the chase, Netflix's new live action Avatar: the Last Airbender is easily the best modern adaptation of an older property that I can think of. This is above all because it has the distinction of being about the only such adaptation which has tried to remain true to its source material. It's not perfect (something I'll address in great detail shortly), but overall Netflix's Avatar simply feels like the thing it's based on in a way that other modern adaptations just don't. While the norm for these kinds of projects is to want to subvert the original or to update for modern sensibilities, Netflix's Avatar just sort of... well, wants to tell the Avatar story that its fans know and love, and it wants to tell it in a way that's for the most part deeply respectful of the source.
That doesn't meant it copies everything beat for beat - it definitely doesn't - but the story is still the story. The characters are still the characters. In an incredible feat for a 2024 release, the genders of the original characters are still the same genders in the remake, the races are still the races, and for the most part even the overall roles are still the roles. There's no hint here, for instance, of diminishing Aang's role as the primary protagonist to give Katara a more important position. Sokka is still the "brains" of the group. Zuko is still filling his iconic role, not Azula. Even if these sorts of riffs on original properties can sometimes work, it's incredibly refreshing to see a modern remake allow something to simply be the same thing that made it popular in the first place.
To be sure, there are some "tweaks" made in the interest of the modern concept of political correctness, but they're much more in the spirit of the kinds of adjustments that were common before so-called "wokeness" took over the entertainment industry. For instance, after Katara challenges Master Pakku because he won't train a female, other women are inspired to insist on fighting alongside the men when the Fire Nation attacks and Pakku eventually makes a brief, private comment to Katara about his learning the importance of change. That's it. Almost any other modern adaptation would have had Katara win the fight with Pakku outright, but that's not what this series does.
This doesn't mean that there have been no other ill-conceived changes. In what is probably the worst misstep, the 2024 series chooses to give Bumi - one of the original series' most beloved characters - the Luke Skywalker treatment, inexplicably changing him from an eccentric mentor of sorts into a bitter old man who is angry with the Avatar for having disappeared - in spite of the fact that in this version, Aang winds up trapped in the ice for a hundred years by accident and not because he is fleeing his responsibilities. The animated Bumi puts Aang through a series of tests to teach him an important lesson that he'll need to ultimately win the day. This one does it, apparently, to lash out at him and convince him that there's no hope. In this version, it's not Aang who learns from Bumi, but Bumi who learns a lesson after being corrected by Aang. It's an extremely unwelcome change on the level of the treatment of Faromir that fans of The Lord of the Rings remain angry with Peter Jackson over. This is probably the one place in this first season where modern Hollywood sentiments actually do rear their head in a destructive way as the tired trend of beloved characters being reimagined as bitter, cynical misers plays out.
Other changes that just don't work tend to be less about specific characters - though they do impact specific characters - and more about the overall approach to the series. Whereas Nickelodeon's series unveiled its story and its characters at a deliberate pace, keeping some things closer to the vest than others, this version wants to lay everything out up front. Rather than shrouding the Firelord in mystery for two entire seasons, a choice that gave the original Ozai a mythical stature when audiences finally met him in the third season, Netflix shows him to us from the very beginning - and shows him extensively. He loses a lot of his gravitas as a result. Whereas the original allowed Aang (and the audience) to learn about the terrible fate of the Air Nomads as part of his journey, this version tells the young Avatar about it almost as soon as he's out of the iceberg and actually depicts the genocide in an elaborate battle scene. Even Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee, who were introduced in the original's second season and served as its primary antagonists, are given far more than mere cameos in the first season of this adaptation. On the other hand, in one of the more unfortunate oversights, it feels at times as though Appa, who was a fully fledged character in the 2005 series, barely gets even a cameo here.
And so this is ultimately the most serious criticism I can offer of 2024's Avatar: in many ways it seems to fall victim to the same errors made by the mythically bad 2010 M. Night Shyamalan film. The fundamental problem with that film was always its pacing. It was just too rushed and offered no room to breath for the plot, the characters, or even the actors (literally- go back and watch the film and pay attention to how fast they're expected to get their lines out most of the time). Now make no mistake: this series is far, far, far better than the 2010 film. I could see myself watching this one again! Still, I couldn't help but be repeatedly reminded of Shyamalan's film by the way that this series just wants to get everything out there on the table almost as fast as possible. It's a good series, but it really could have benefited from slowing down and giving things a bit more room to breathe.
Another way that this adaptation unfortunately calls the 2010 film to mind is in the relatively... off characterizations of most of the key figures. Unlike the film, it's clear that the creators of this series at least understand the personalities and the thought processes and the motivations of each of the characters and are aiming at reproducing those various qualities here, but by and large they too often miss the mark. At one point in the season's final episode after the battle is won and the heroes set off for the next leg of their journey, Sokka makes a comment about wanting to eat something, to which Katara jokes that everything is always about his stomach. This line is a perfect fit for these characters in this situation - in the Nickelodeon original. The problem is that in the Netflix series nothing has to this point ever been about Sokka's stomach.
It's as if the creators know who the characters are supposed to be but never went about actually including moments in which they exhibit any of the relevant traits - maybe, again, because they are trying to cram so much story into so relatively little time. Aang is occasionally light-hearted and is frequently compassionate, but overall he's just very serious all the time. Iroh clearly exhibits a deep love for Zuko and occasionally says something mildly humorous about food. He also sometimes says something that feels like it's supposed to make him seem wise, but overall he's just very serious all the time. Bumi occasionally exhibits quirky and eccentric behaviors but is overall just very serious all the time.
You get the idea. Pretty much everyone is overall just very serious all the time. The creators have clearly wanted to give this live-action series a more mature tone - and understandably so - but the balance is just off. What's more, the series' depiction of Roku actually proves that the live action characters can work with a more light-hearted, almost whimsical approach. Roku here is a perfect rendition of what Iroh could have and should have been, but instead he frequently comes across more like The Legend of Korra's Tenzen than the wise, joyful uncle Iroh. Sokka is a bit of a standout. Of all the main characters, he feels closest to what long-time fans would expect. He could let the classic Sokka silliness surface a little bit more often, but overall he's not bad.
Other exceptions, like Zuko and Azula, go in the other direction as they're somehow both too serious and not serious enough. Netflix's Azula does not strike me as a genuinely dangerous, ruthless sociopath driven by the insatiable need to receive her father's unattainable love and approval. Instead, she's a sort of bratty teenager who thinks she's more important than she is. Think Veruca Salt or Kylo Ren, but with more "I want to go to the mall." This Zuko, meanwhile, is much more obviously fragile and traumatized than the original's. The original Zuko, of course, was a traumatized character, but his trauma was buried much more deeply and when it finally did become visible it was also apparent that he had the inner strength to deal with it. This Zuko's trauma is apparent from very early on and he really does not convey much inner strength or much of a sense of one whom life has robbed of his youth. Unfortunately, I think in many ways the Shyamalan Zuko was a better Zuko than this - at least so far.
Still, the series does many things right. The art direction is excellent. The choreography does a fairly good job of translating the iconic bending and combat styles into live action. With some exceptions (as discussed above) there is overall a strong balance between allowing the story room to develop in its own way and keeping things true to the original. I would even go so far as to say that this series is a compelling retelling of the original story which kept me wanting to see the next installment. While it does have some significant flaws, it's one of the few things released in several years that I was able to genuinely enjoy. I'm not sure whether that's giving a backhanded compliment or not, but regardless I hope that we will soon see a second season and a third, and that future installments will improve even further on what has been a good start.
