The one that started it all.
“Iron Fist” was recently cancelled after a second season that proved a stellar improvement over the mediocre (at best) first season. “Jessica Jones” had a problematic first season, tackling mature themes and introducing one of the vilest supervillains in modern media, and a second season that managed to scuttle all hope for a better continuation of the story. And “Luke Cage” was half of a good show, hit hardest with the ’13 episode’ Netflix hard slog, where the narrative dries up with too much padding and too little consequence. The less said (or reviewed) about “Defenders” the better.
Yes, the only Marvel-Netflix collaboration that manages to exceed expectations with regularity has been the first series that premiered, “Daredevil”. The first season was approached less as a televisions series and more as a thirteen-hour movie, with each episode following a formula that added to the plot and characters in a meaningful way. The actual story structure, according to Marvel television executive Jeph Loeb, was based on crime films of the 1970’s, such as “Dog Day Afternoon”, “Taxi Driver” and “The French Connection”. The result was a much more grounded and personal story than had previously been seen in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, grittier and more visceral.
“We’re approaching this as a crime drama first, superhero show second.”
Everything else fell into place with fight choreographers, composers, and set designs that captured both the modern feel of New York and the ’70’s feel of Hell’s Kitchen back when it was ravaged by gangs like the Westies, corrupt cops, and crooked politicians. It managed to tie into the larger narrative of the Marvel Cinematic Universe in an organic way and justified how the city had regressed back into that state of moral and urban decay, as the city was recovering from billions of dollars in damage done by a foiled alien invasion in the aftermath of the “Avengers” film.
But can’t go into detail about what makes the series work so well without describing, at length, how the characters have been so brilliantly brought to life. After a disastrous attempt to adapt the comic in the 2003 Ben Affleck film, it was a relief to see a Matt Murdock who was equally skilled at being a lawyer as well as a crime fighter, with Charlie Cox delivering some of the most powerful acting seen in the MCU. From the opening scene in the confessional, to the first time fighting in costume, this fleshed out character could have leaped off the pages of the comics just as readily as he jumps from rooftops. This Matt Murdock has a range of emotions that highlights the struggle with his duality as an attorney of the law and as a law-breaking vigilante, combined with his Catholic faith that is both his tether to morality and largest source of shame. This Matt Murdock shows anguish when he’s confessing his sins, boils over in frustration when his efforts to do good are thwarted, and displays alarming zeal that never quite reaches full-fledged sadism when he’s brutalizing bad guys… Charlie Cox manages to express all this without using his full range of facial motion, as his eyes are almost always covered by tinted glasses, a makeshift mask, and eventually the horned cowl.
His supporting characters aren’t merely comic relief or side-lined love interests either; Foggy Nelson, Karen Page, and Claire Temple are all characters with autonomy and agency in their own right who could easily be the main characters in their own stories, albeit an entirely different set of genres.
As Foggy Nelson, Elden Henson brings boyish charm and that manufactured ‘awkward-guile’ that comes off as a carefully constructed facade later in his lawyer career as a cover for his more genuine bumbling in the flashbacks he shared with Matt in college. He’s less idealistic than Matt, but given how Matt is a few rooftop jumps away from martyrdom that just makes him more realistic, and he’s less obviously smooth than Matt’s Casanova-like pull with the ladies. However he is shown to be a fine lawyer in his own right, with a moral code that remains unshakable when pressed.
Neither he, nor Matt, can compare though to the juggernaut of moral outrage that is Karen Page. After being framed for a ghastly crime she didn’t commit, Deborah Ann Woll plays the character as no damsel in distress or girl-Friday, but as a woman driven to uncover the truth at any cost, who cannot be bought off and refuses to be bullied. She senses something’s more with her co-worker Matt Murdock, who she harbors an intense attraction to, but she cannot pin down the source of his charisma; she cannot quite see the devil behind his disguise. In short, she’s everything comic books fans would’ve wanted to see from a portrayal of Lois Lane, but sadly that hasn’t come to pass.
And Rosario Dawson’s take on the Night Nurse herself, a minor figure in the comics who has become a reoccurring role (to some detriment of over-saturation) in all the Marvel-Netflix series, is one of the best new characters. Claire Temple is the girlfriend not every superhero deserves but definitely the one they all need; supportive, helpful, insightful, caring but not coddling, and unafraid of the risks of living the vigilante life. She and Matt would have continued to make a very good pairing if not for Claire realizing very early on that Matt’s one-man war on crime, beating criminals to a pulp with his bare hands, hint at a fractured psyche and martyr-complex.
Heroes are only as good as their greatest adversaries though, never is this more true than in comic books, with colorful supervillains outnumbering a hero often a dozen to one. Daredevil hasn’t had the best luck with villains in the past, but that had changed with a Spider-Man villain given over to him in a rogues-gallery transplant. Reimagining the Bond-villain ‘Kingpin’ into a Mafia don, leading away from gimmicky weapons and doomsday devices and keeping to grounded street-level criminal enterprises, saved both the character of Wilson Fisk and Daredevil as well. And Vincent D’Onofrio revives the character again, proving the worth of one of Marvel’s most popular and persistent foes. His Wilson Fisk is shown gradually becoming the comic book villain (in time with Matt Murdock progressively growing more skilled as a super-hero), starting instead as a rather human, compelling crime boss with almost sympathetic motives and a heart-wrenching backstory.
Ultimately though, it is a story about legacy; the legacy of father’s and sons, of the lessons passed down that influence us for good or evil, and how choices leave a mark on our world. Matt Murdock’s father was a boxer who wanted to win, but also wanted to make sure his boy had more to life than fighting; Wilson Fisk’s father was an abusive, vile and petty loser who saw his son as an extension of himself to bully into a ‘real man’ according to his standards. As a grown man, Matt Murdock talks at length about how he feels a great anger in him, and his nightly hunts for criminals is as much a chance for him to vent that rage and channel that frustration as it is a desire to punish evil-doers. Likewise, Wilson Fisk talks at length about wanting to make the city a better place, but unlike Matt his scope of the city isn’t in terms of the people already living within it, but what the city could be shaped into according to his vision. His methods are even more violent, and his justification appears more and more hollow as the series progresses.
Good and evil, the sins of the fathers revisited tenfold upon the generations after, transcends ordinary comic-book adaptations and transfigures “Daredevil” into something with near Biblical heft. This strength of narrative combined with strength of production and the cast of talented actors portraying some of the most well-rounded characters in not just comic lore but some of the best characters on modern television right now made just one of the best shows of this decade.
Every Sort of Story 