When it opens, Avatar: The Last Airbender is a very simple show. The opening titles tell the whole tale: the world’s at war, and the Fire Nation (the bad guys) want to conquer everyone else (the good guys). Only one person, the Avatar (the hero) can stop them, and as luck would have it, he just showed up and he’s ready to fight. Of course, he has challenges: he’s been gone for a hundred years, he hasn’t mastered his powers, and he’s an immature little kid. But that’s okay; that’s interesting. Watching him make his Hero’s Journey sounds like a hoot.
Of course, as my kid and I have watched Avatar – we’re halfway through the last season – we’ve learned more and more about how this world works. In the first episode, the characters’ “bending” looks magical: you wave your arms and water floats or fire shoots or the air turns into a tornado. But as the show goes along we learn that it’s more like a martial art, requiring massive skill and discipline. We learn about the four elements and what they signify, in terms that match the characters we’ve met: fire, like Prince Zuko, is destructive and tough to control; earth, like Toph, is stubborn and stands its ground. We learn about politics in the Fire Nation. We pick up the history of the previous avatars, and meet the last two to hold the title. And the Earth Kingdom’s capital city, Ba Sing Se, plays a major role in the second season – but as far as I remember, we first hear the name when it’s dropped into conversation. The show has a rich backstory, but we only learn about it when we need it.
When we talk about worldbuilding, it’s easy to assume we’re talking about something really heavy and excruciating. Blame it on Tolkien: ever since he gave Middle-Earth dynasties, legends, and even its own made-up languages, the bar has been set high for “lore.” I know that my own childhood experience of reading the first three pages of Silmarillion gave me the idea that your made-up little story is lightweight if you don’t have a linguist on staff.
At the same time, most of us like things simple. Your decision to make an investment in a game, book, comic, or what have you, depends on whether the first few minutes make you care. And Tolkien apparently got that, too; as my dad once put it, that’s why he has hobbits.
Avatar’s world is rich, but never complex – and that’s what I like about it. And here’s the thing: thinking about Avatar, or Star Wars, or a bunch of my other favorite works, has made me think that simple is good. Give me a world, but give me a good guy and a bad guy. Keep the details in a shoebox until I really need to see them. Don’t do what they did in Mass Effect, where you have some computer encyclopedia with tons of stuff from your story bible that you crammed in there because hey, maybe five different people will read it someday. Why would you ever make things so hard?
And then I remember The Wire.
Sometimes, you want a world that gives a meaningful backdrop to a long-running story. And sometimes, the world is the story. If you’ve ever watched HBO’s five-season masterpiece, you’re probably know it’s a little complicated. There are dozens of characters, all of them morally complex. You’ll have trouble picking out a “protagonist.” There are clear conflicts in the story, but no clear resolutions, which fits the show’s vision. The city is a broken system, and we see all the reasons that noone can fix it.
Fans of The Wire revel in its complexity, but it didn’t come from nowhere. David Simon and his team built on many other works – Simon’s reporting on both the police and the drug dealers led to two earlier books that both became TV shows, and seeing Homicide and reading The Corner prepared me for what he was doing in The Wire. The Wire just does it better, and does it all at the same time.
Even a casual viewer can latch onto all the familiar cops-and-criminals tropes. Both white and blue collar workers, no matter how boring their jobs are, will see their own frustrations reflected in the storylines. You don’t need hobbits here, because all adults can see themselves somewhere in this show.
But more than Avatar, we’re drawn in by the entire world that we’re given – a system where tiny details have big impact, where a chance encounter in one season can pay off in another, where characters from all walks of life have a chance to change each other, and only the audience and the author get to see the whole picture. We want all the things that are only possible in a world this big.
I could probably write 20,000 words on the show and about 20,000 other people already have. But I guess what I’m getting at is that The Wire‘s complexity works because The Wire is based on real life. A fantasy world could grow into something just as complicated, but to make people care, you’d have to throw in some hobbits. And even then, you’d risk ticking off your audience. Imagine if someone made up a world that was as frustrating as The Wire‘s. Wouldn’t you hate the writer of that show? You’d want to know why they were thwarting their characters, why they made a clear win impossible, and why they’re not seeing a shrink like right damn now. You’d start to wish there was a hero – a really straightforward one, like the Avatar and his gang. And it would baffle you why they couldn’t just go out and save the day already.
Heh, I’m actually intrigued to see what you think about your own musings here when weighed in tandem with the series’s conclusion, but I guess I’ll just have to wait until you’re done. It’s a surprisingly startling show for a Nicktoon, and in an age of geeks that have pedestalized countless (and arguably far more contrived) anime, it juts out. Even in comparison to The Wire though, my deepest takeaway from THAT series was a quote Simon himself left in its wake (it’s on my blog somewhere); then I’m just reminded of games (in a very bad way too). Of course it would be all to easy to ridicule gaming for not ‘constructing’ worlds in the same manner as well, but television in general is hitting its stride (and it actually has more in common with games than most are willing to admit too).
The distinguishing between rich and complex is what drives my attachment to such works (which I take as the point of this post). Avatar if nothing else signifies that I actually CAN fall in love with such a fantasy world as well. This surprised me when it was still airing too, as it’s opposed to something like The Wire whacking us all over the head with a overdose of much-needed realism (something I’m all to biased in enjoying to begin with).
That said, I’m looking forward to reading about this world you pick as well.
We got through “The Puppetmaster” tonight. Shit is getting very real. It amazes me how differently my kid and I see this show – how many things disturb me because I can think of real-life situations that they’re echoing (secret police, abused detainees), while my kid responds to the action. His favorite character is Sokka; mine is Prince Zuko, tied with Uncle Irho – the conflicted characters with complicated pasts, who have more going on and hold more appeal for an adult.
I’m really starting to think Avatar is one of the best TV series I’ve ever watched.
It seems stories set in the real world can support more complexity than those set in fictional worlds. Part of the reason, at least, is that we already get how the real world works. We don’t need any explanation from The Wire to understand how cocaine works. But what’s “bending?” The complex stuff in The Wire is the only stuff. But just to understand a conversation in Avatar requires an understanding of that world that has to be learned.
Simplicity works so well in fictional settings because it teaches us about the world at a reasonable pace. Overly complex fictional worlds are often created by folks who forget (or just don’t care) that the audience isn’t as familiar with the world as they are. Worlds that work well, as you said, lead us in gently and give us just enough detail to understand and want more.
Avatar and Star Wars (at least the first film) work so well in part because they’re pastiches of things we’ve seen before, and they use those references to economically build their stories. And they leave a lot of gaps for the viewer to fill in (unlike Tolkien, where you can’t take two steps without falling over a rock that has fourteen different names and its own lyric poem origin story).
Also, they’re more concerned about character and tone than about the nitty-gritty details of the world (the Avatar series covers less than a year of their world’s history, but the amount of stuff that goes on/how the characters have trained and matured is kind of insane if you think about it in those terms).
The Wire being so understandable despite being so complex is in no small part to how artfully it’s constructed. Exposition and reminders of past events are woven so tightly into the forward-moving narrative that it feels organic and a lot of times it goes by unnoticed.
Across all three, world-building is either done through reference to other stories or through the narrative itself, but it’s done in such a consistent way that you read the gaps as either intentional or as irrelevant.
Well, let it never be said that you don’t have good taste in TV shows. Or god, looking back on this series, good taste, like, in general! As a Wire obsessive and late to the party Avatar fanboy, I really like the contrast between the two worlds.
I’d say that for me, internally consistent fiction is usually what elevates a show from good to great. Consistent writing, characterization, and when appropriate, rules of the universe. The Wire is, to my eye, the most intricate, literary portrayal of a world I’ve ever seen on a screen – the characters behave like themselves throughout, and there are strict, merciless rules at play in the show’s version of Baltimore. That all of it lies so close to our own world only makes it resonate even more.
(As a side note, allow me to recommend Treme to any who haven’t seen it – it’s outstanding. I do acknowledge that as both a jazz musician and a monster David Simon fan, I kind of have blinders on when it comes to critiquing it, but man… love. Plus you get to watch the Bunk play the trombone!)
I’d say that the only show I’ve seen that matches The Wire is Arrested Development – which is interesting, since the shows are so different. But there it is – another dense, complexly interwoven show, and if anything, AD was probably even more difficult to pull off due to its frequent flights of absurd fancy!
What’s interesting is that both shows have attracted an intensely loyal fan base, but a small one, at least when compared to shows with muddled internal consistency like LOST. (Not that I didn’t like LOST for what it was, but you know… it wasn’t The Wire).
And then there’s Avatar, which just blew my socks off. To second your thought (as well as to trot out the dreaded “E” word), that show presented its world with an elegance that I found to be almost jarring! For a while I thought I was watching a fun, addictive kids’ show, when somewhere in the second season I realized that the fiction was going to hold up across the entire series. It started around the second time we met the poor Cabbage Vendor and really landed when the gang got to Ba Sing Se. It snuck up on me, as I suspect it was supposed to.
So that’s really my big takeaway – the amazing thing about Avatar was how effortless it all seemed. And I agree about why – as a general rule, the writers kept things simple. What’s remarkable is just how complex and deep the story was when taken as a whole – even little consistency issues (Like Toph’s lie-detection abilities) can be explained one way or another… Obviously, that intricacy was no accident – DiMartino, Konietzko and company knew exactly what they were doing from the start.
I seriously hope to see a gameworld built with such quiet, confident complexity. I’m not sure I totally agree that Mass Effect doesn’t do a good job, but it’s absolutely true that “rich” and “insanely detailed” aren’t the same thing. The nerd in me loves the codex, but the truth of the matter is that the space a fantasy world leaves for our imaginations is both immensely important and very difficult to quantify.
Loved this series, looking forward to seeing your favorite! Is it Mafia II? I totally bet it’s Mafia II.
I feel bad slagging Mass Effect, and I should probably stop and take some time to figure out why I don’t believe in its world. I like the characters quite a bit, but the space politics didn’t draw me in – perhaps because the humans are always set up as tourists, the new race on the block that has none of the baggage or obligations of the other races. I wrecked havoc on a couple of species during my playthrough – without even trying! I was trying to be a good guy – but I was able to shrug it off and walk away. I’ll really have to think about this, and think about what would make me care about the rest of the universe.
And re: Mafia II – shhhhhh!
Man, this is so exactly right. I’ve put down some dozens of fantasy novels, or tuned out from shows like BSG and LOST, for precisely this reason. At a certain point, you just don’t give a shit anymore about the problems arising from a series of complicated rules that somebody made up — mostly because the resolutions to those problems almost inevitably arise, not from character, but from more arbitrary magic. If it’s made-up, it needs to be simple and clear, and all the other elements of the world need to be recognizable and relevant to human beings.
I think maybe THE HITCH-HIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY is a good example of a happy medium in world-building: it’s basically our society, writ large across the universe. This is made explicit in the opening scenes, where bureaucrats are about to destroy Arthur’s home, until much larger (but just as dreadful and narrow-minded) space bureaucrats come to destroy the Earth. Everything is weird and mind-blowing and funny, but it all basically comes back to stuff we know.
BSG actually full-bore copped out at the end, by focusing on the characters and skipping the greater mysteries and history they had set up. That’s probably a good decision – most of the time it is the characters who are the focus – but it still bugs me that the larger threads in the show were just tossed to the side in the finale.
And yeah, comedy gives you a free pass for just about anything, but as you say, Hitchiker’s Guide also knows what it’s about – the theme is clear throughout and everything sticks to it.
I thought the world-building in Avatar was elegantly done, but my primary joy in that show came from watching the characters grow, both as people and in their powers. The power thing is subtle, but awesome. Not to mention that Katara is a kick-ass role model for girls, and never seems to get mentioned in the same breath as Buffy and Veronica Mars and so on. But to me, I’m ambivalent about Buffy or Veronica Mars — they have their awesome sides, but they also don’t always learn from their flaws. A good bit of their awesomeness comes from their superpowers. Being a girl like Buffy in daily life is actually going to earn you a world of hurt, because you don’t have her special abilities.
Being like Katara, on the other hand — funny, feisty, compassionate, fierce in all the best ways, gentle without being weak, feminine without being limited, playful, wise when it counts, willing to admit her mistakes and to understand that needing other people doesn’t have to make you weak and can in fact make you stronger, hungry to learn, proud of her strengths without arrogance, resolute without being rigid — is something we can all aspire to. It’s not to say that she’s never stubborn, or never arrogant, but she learns and moves past those things. Her power isn’t the *source* of her awesomeness (although it’s always fun to watch her kick someone’s ass); it’s an expression of it. And I love that there’s never any question that she’s a girl, but she’s a great role model for anyone, male or female, because most of her virtues are unisex, and achievable by ordinary human beings. If I can have half of her virtues, I’ll be an A-Class human being, and if I could find half of her strengths, I am pretty sure I could get anything I wanted done.
Jessica, I totally agree about the characters and especially Katara. I agree with everything you said about her strengths – her decision to stay with the Earth Nation prisoners early in the series was amazing – but as you say, her flaws are great too. There are times when she’s petty, or fights with Toph, or just makes a wrong call. I really appreciate that my kid can see a believable character make mistakes and then go on to make up for them, or to live with them.
I realize I’m commenting on an article from about two years ago, but I never thought I’d read something comparing Avatar to The Wire.
“Imagine if someone made up a world that was as frustrating as The Wire‘s. Wouldn’t you hate the writer of that show?”
I thought about this line, and the only story I can think of that has pulled this off successfully is the Game of Thrones series. I’ve only seen the TV version, but it is a completely made-up world full of complex, morally muddled characters. And it is fantastic. Have you seen / read it?