Princess Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender
Looking back, it’s amazing to think that aside from a brief, silent cameo, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation did not appear at all throughout season one of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Amazing because she is one of the most memorable parts of the show in its entirety, and an iconic villain in her own right.
Her first true appearance is one for the annals of best Character Establishing Moments, in which she’s depicted onboard a seafaring vessel, directing its captain to pull into shore despite the tide preventing them from doing so safely. The following conversation commences:
Captain: Princess, I’m afraid the tides will not allow us to bring the ship into port before nightfall.
Azula: I’m sorry captain, but I do not know much about the tides. Can you explain something to me?
Captain: Of course, your highness.
Azula: Do the tides command this ship?
Captain: Ah, I’m afraid I don’t understand.
Azula: You said the tides would not allow us to bring the ship in. Do the tides command this ship?
Captain: No, Princess.
Azula: And if I was to have you thrown overboard, would the tides think twice about smashing you against the rocky shore?
Captain: No. Princess.
Azula: Well then, maybe you should worry less about the tides, you have already made up their mind about killing you, and worry more about me, who’s still mulling it over.
Captain: I’ll pull us in.
It conveys so much of her psyche: her cruelty, her insouciance, her power games, and ultimately, her madness. The captain knows it’s not sensible to pull into shore at that time, but it’s unclear whether Azula does. All she cares about is getting what she wants, at the precise moment she wants it – common sense be damned. And anyone trying to thwart her is in for some public humiliation.
This need for control ends up being her undoing. Generally I’m not a fan of stories in which female villains are defeated after losing their minds, but in this case it was all painstakingly seeded across the course of Azula’s arc, from her emphasis on never having one hair out of place, to the flashbacks that depict her as a prodigy, to her intense sibling rivalry with Zuko. She has to be the best; there is no room for imperfection.
The writers pulled off a massively impressive feat when it came to her as the show’s central antagonist (yes, Fire Lord Ozai is the Big Bad, but Azula is the true face of the narrative’s villainy). She’s loathsome, awe-inspiring, terrifying, but ultimately pitiable. That she’s drawn from the narcissist’s playbook is undeniable, ticking every box on the checklist: a sense of self-importance, a preoccupation with power and success, entitlement issues, arrogance, interpersonally exploitative/manipulative for their own gain, a lack of empathy, a need for admiration and praise, and a deep-seated sense of insecurity despite their supposed confidence.
Of course, living in a fantasy world where people can command the elements, Azula can back up her sense of superiority with very-real power: not only the honour and privileges that come with being a princess, but the fact that she can shoot fire from her hands. Blue fire in fact, which burns hotter than red, orange or white flames, demonstrating her absolute mastery over the art of fire-bending.
For most of the show’s duration, she’s always one step ahead, always in complete control, always maintaining the upper hand... most of the time. Though you can’t help but admire this a little, the only person who could ultimately defeat her was Azula herself. Several crucial missteps put her off her game: she underestimates Mai’s loyalty to Zuko, grows increasingly threatened by her father’s dismissive behaviour, and experiences several visions of her lost mother.
The last we see of her on the show is confronting: she’s been laid low by Katara, a mere “peasant,” whose water-bending prowess exceeds her own. Rendered powerless after being chained to an iron gate, Azula’s mind breaks, and all she can do is scream and sob over the fact her entire worldview has crumbled. Wringing a sense of pity from the audience was a masterful final move on the behalf of the writers, reminding us that this was ultimately a fourteen-year-old girl raised in a way that gave her very little recourse to be anything else than what she became.
Her story continues a little into the graphic novels, but I’m not entirely sure whether they’re meant to be considered canon, and I’m ambivalent over the prospect of whether or not she should be redeemed (however you want to define that). How she’ll be handled in the upcoming animated films is another mystery – if she’s even featured at all.
Personally, I think her story is perfect just the way it is, and Azula is truly one of the most remarkable antagonists in all of fiction. Not just in the category of “female villains” or “animated villains” – but ALL villains.
