Storytelling rant... (Destiny)

by Korny , Dalton, Ga. US. Earth, Sol System, Sunday, September 10, 2017, 14:42 (2447 days ago) @ Cody Miller
edited by Korny, Sunday, September 10, 2017, 15:08

Setups an non-payoffs

Ikora wonders about being mortal. About whether she could actually fight and risk her life knowing it’s the last one left. An interesting moment for her character, and something she’d definitely be wresting with. The speaker then talks about how bravery means death through sacrifice. Okay. Bungie is setting it up so Ikora finds her bravery, and sacrifices herself to aid the player in the last stand against Gaul. A nice satisfying character arc right? She could even come back to life when the Traveler reawakens and sends out its light. That way you could have your cake and eat it too, without breaking any established rules of the narrative universe. But… that didn’t happen. Nothing becomes of the setup, and it ends up being all talk. If you are going to bring up these themes, and you really want to hammer them home then you have these themes resonate in the characters and be part of arcs. Like, this is the kind of thing that makes stories GREAT rather than just good. Bungie could have even gone farther and have Cayde learn to be a team player or something. Again, the setup was all there, but it was wasted!

This was the thing that upset me the most, because there was so much storytelling potential here that went completely unexplored.

The speaker then talks about how bravery means death through sacrifice. Okay. Bungie is setting it up so Ikora finds her bravery, and sacrifices herself to aid the player in the last stand against Gaul. A nice satisfying character arc right? She could even come back to life when the Traveler reawakens and sends out its light. That way you could have your cake and eat it too, without breaking any established rules of the narrative universe.

Ikora was, I feel, the biggest letdown in terms of character for this game, which is a bummer, because her story is set up as being the core of the crux in being able to simply revive, and it directly ties into Ghaul's conversation with the player "You're not brave; you've merely forgotten the fear of death".

And a lot of that has to do with the fact that no, storylines like this shouldn't let you have your cake and eat it to.

To explain, let's look at the brilliant storytelling of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

(Spoilers!)
Early on, we're introduced to the character of Iroh. He is an extremely peaceful and patient man, who lives in exile with his nephew Zuko (the emperor's son). There is a bit of a disconnect between his personality and who he is in the history of that world. He was an extremely respected military general (the Emperor's brother, no less), and he is feared in legend, but all we see is a friendly man who tries to instill positive virtues on his angry and violent nephew.

We find out that his son was a soldier who was killed before the series began, and this led to the downfall of Iroh's military career at a pivotal battle in the city of Ba Sing Se. It changes him, and has a permanent effect on his character; if he had made different choices, his son (who was clearly taking after his father) would still be alive.
This all comes to a head in the episode "Tales of Ba Sing Se", where Iroh is in the city once more, only instead of waging war, he spends the episode helping random people in the city as he makes his way to a hill, spreading positivity, and changing people's lives in ways big and small. At the end, we see where it all comes from emotionally:

It really puts into perspective why he is the way he is, and why he doesn't give up on trying to steer his nephew away from a life of war and violence. Because war and violence have consequences, and they lead to sacrifices that can't be undone. It's a strong theme brought up early and often, and it affects all of the characters throughout the show.

The way this lesson plays out for his nephew is one of the most outstanding character/story arcs ever written (in any media, seriously).

And then we look at The Legend of Korra, The Last Airbender's sequel series, which took a surprising step backwards during its first season.

Early on, a clear threat to Benders (people who can control one of four elements) is brought up. An enemy that can permanently take away their Bending (essentially the same as Ghaul having the power to take away our Light), destroying everything that they are (in the show, the characters see it as a fate worse than death, since many of them base their entire lives/livelihoods on Bending). It's terrifying, and when the main character, Korra, (the Avatar, the only person in the world who can Bend all four elements) comes close to losing her Bending, the show has some subtle-yet-deliberate rape undertones that go with it:

(Best I could find, sorry, but it drives the point home well, as the episode ends on that note, leaving the viewer to marinate on it.)

It establishes the power that the enemy has over everyone, and as the show goes on, more and more people have their bending taken away from them against their will, and so the threat grows. When the only surviving airbenders in the world are targeted, the biggest BAMF of the show, Lin Bei-Fong, chooses to sacrifice herself in order to protect them. It's a great scene, and for the uninitiated (and because it's fitting here), here's a video that shows who she is as a character, and how her sacrifice is handled, all to the tunes of Taylor Swift (you people make me sick):

And it ties well to the theme explored in the first show, because we and the characters have seen it play out with Iroh:

Again, the episode closes with that scene, driving the lesson home once again. It's fantastic writing.

By the time the show comes to a close, Korra has lost her Bending, so despite defeating the enemy, we have a bittersweet ending, because the war between them has cost so much, and so many people, like Lin, are left permanently damaged from it. The cost is too much for Korra, and the show implies that she is contemplating suicide (going so far as to flat-out state that she's at her lowest point). Had the show ended on this note, I would have ignored all of its smaller faults, and hailed it as a mature exploration of the themes set up in the previous show. It said something, and drove it into our hearts...

Unfortunately, that's not how it ended.

Another big part of the show was that the protagonist, Korra, had no real connection to the strong spiritual beliefs and identity that all Avatars before her, and because of it, she couldn't Airbend (Airbenders being the most spiritual of the bending cultures, since they're essentially Tibetan monks). Despite this being set up as the premise of the whole show, it was handled poorly throughout, and you pretty much completely forget about it throughout the final episodes. Except during the last couple of minutes of the show, where this happens out of nowhere:

Bam. Korra and everyone else gets their Bending back, at no cost, and without any consequences whatsoever, starting with Lin.
The show's writers got to have their cake, and eat it too.

Those last two minutes ruined it for me, because the setup was given so much payoff throughout, while giving even more payoff to Iroh's lessons in the first show.
When we first meet the similarly-named Ikora in Destiny 2, she's in a similar low point. She discusses the philosophical nature of sacrifice, courage, and immortality (as does the Speaker, a fellow Warlock who knows these things). And them, we get nothing.
The Speaker dies, sure, but Ikora is never seen to sacrifice. Faceless Guardians? Yeah, sure, they get their one second of screentime, but nobody addresses it. Hawthorne points out her and her peoples' mortality, but in the end, she's dubbed a "Guardian" too, and that's it. No, Guardian's aren't on the same level as people like Hawthorne. It's even pointed out that Zavala can't really grasp what it means to only have the one shot at life, and the ability for it to be snuffed out permanently by a single enemy bullet (and what it means for people like Hawthorne to rush into the fires anyway). Ikora claims to be terrified of it, but in the end, she does it without breaking a sweat, and mostly offscreen.
It doesn't sell the idea, it doesn't explore the concept, and ultimately, she's the weakest character. Sorry sensei, but you should have died. The Speaker faced torture and death without flinching. He explained his philosohy, and walked the walk to the bitter end. Ikora just felt sad for a few days, then went right back to business as usual...

So yeah, stuff like this has haunted me for a while...

tl;dr: