I am by no means a hardcore fan of comic books.  I sampled single issues here or there as a kid, and borrowed far more than I ever purchased.  Comics didn’t put me off specifically, but I’d never really caught the bug; were it not for exposure to a few of the best-known superheroes in cartoons and movies, I’d have been almost completely unaware of the genre.  But not long after my 18^th birthday I happened to have a chance to read an entire five-issue arc of Daredevil that a cousin of mine had lying around.  I was immediately hooked, and I’ve been a dedicated reader of Daredevil ever since, for over 20 years now (with a caveat I’ll get to later).  I’ve tried other monthly books and some limited series in the interim but the only character I’ve consistently followed for all that time has been the old horn-head.

I love DD for many of the same reasons that other people do such as the interesting premise of a blind hero, the grounded/gritty street level setting and the brilliant dichotomy of a lawyer by day versus a vigilante by night.  Matt Murdoch himself was an interesting man (I find the people under the costumes are too often bland compared to their alter egos) and his relationships with his friends and romantic attachments are regularly the focus of the story.  The Man without Fear’s rogue’s gallery is a mixed bag but honestly what superhero doesn’t have a few dud villains to speak of?

Over time, however, I came to realise that one of the main reasons I liked reading Daredevil was that while it was set in the Marvel universe, it felt somewhat apart from it.  Sure, there were cameos and cross-over stories that occasionally weaved their way inside, but in general you could follow this title on its own and not feel like you were missing anything.  Try following one X-Men comic and tell me if that feels workable in the long run.

Daredevil the character and Daredevil the comic book both worked within the confines of its own neighbourhood (ie. Hell’s Kitchen) quite pleasingly, so I was somewhat sceptical when I first heard of Marvel’s the plans to create an original Netflix series, given the scope of the movies.  I felt the likely outcome was that the setting of this particular story would feel like a backwater to the wider Marvel Cinematic Universe continuity, with clumsy references, namedrops and guest stars thrown in.  I’m pleased to report that the creators have resisted the temptation to turn this series into a sideshow and that, much like the comic, it works well as a distinct but separate part of the larger whole.

My aim in reviewing the first season of this series is to give the perspective of a long-term, invested fan of the comic, rather than a casual reader who is tangentially aware of Daredevil’s place in the Marvel mythos.  That the show has reportedly managed to please both categories (in addition to newcomers who had no exposure to DD before this series) should speak to its quality right off the bat…or, I should say, billy-club?

The show’s pedigree seems highly legit from the opening credits, with names like Stan Lee, Jeph Loeb and Joe Quesada all in the mix.  Frank Miller’s iconic origin story for Daredevil and his dark, gritty take on character are deeply woven into the DNA of this series; as this is the most popular/widely accepted interpretation I’m unsurprised the producers made that choice.  It simply fits and the writers’ whole-hearted embrace of the Miller influence makes for undoubtedly the most mature, adult story-telling attempted in a Marvel adaptation to date.  The action is at times brutally violent, and the moral choices often uncomfortable.  Expect a fair amount of blood, broken bones and gunplay – definitely not recommended for young children.  The choice to film on location in New York adds further legitimacy and, I would argue, given we’re all used to seeing crime dramas played out in this city, makes even a costumed hero story all the more believable.

As befits a proper Daredevil adaptation, a balanced amount of time is given between the public life of Matt Murdoch, contrasted against the after-hours punch-ups and shenanigans.  You need to see Matt’s struggles and successes, his friendships and even some of his foes in “real life” to truly appreciate what is at stake, and why he dons the mask.  The courtroom, the office, the sidewalk and the tavern are as critical to the plot as the alleyways, dingy warehouses, dockyards and dens full of thugs.  The story is complex but easy to follow, the motivations and backgrounds well established and consistent with the world as presented.  References to the MCU are brief and subtle for the most part, except where tossed in for comedic effect.  You don’t need to have seen every Avengers film for this series to make sense.  And the best part: since this is a 13 episode season, with 45-50 minute run-times to work with, there is plenty of room to let things breathe.  Conversations don’t feel abbreviated, plot-lines are explored thoroughly and satisfyingly without things being totally rushed as (understandably) happens in superhero movies, and the audiences gets enough time to see actual character development.  This is such a refreshing way to experience a story based on a comic book that part of me wonders if I’ll ever be able to look at the genre in film the same way  again.

The casting is excellent, from top to bottom.  Deviations from the exact dictates of the comic book lore are to be expected, and where they do occur they’re never jarring or feel “wrong”.  If anything, the unexpected deaths, twists and character changes allow for surprises and a level of suspense that a hardcore Daredevil fan would otherwise be totally prepared for.  Charlie Cox is a brilliant choice for the lead that I would never have predicted myself.  I was initially worried, given that I’ve been so accustomed to hearing an Irish (or his native English) accent come out of his mouth that I would be unable to suspend disbelief and see him as an American, much less a New Yorker.  After a single episode any doubts were assuaged.  Cox is superb, pulling off the morally challenged, sympathetic, stalwart and blind lawyer portion of the role every bit as convincingly as the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’.  Elden Henson was unknown to me previously but plays best friend Foggy Nelson with the necessary mix of humour, enthusiasm and concern.  Deborah Ann Woll is the perfect Karen Page with ability to portray the right amount of vulnerability and unease about her (vaguely hinted) past to open up all sorts of possibilities for future story lines…something to look forward to if you’re a veteran fan of the comic.  Vincent D’Onofrio is an inspired pick for Wilson Fisk, quirky enough to capture the stranger aspects of this keystone DD villain, along with his power, physical size and intensity: a scene stealer throughout the series.

Rosario Dawson (need I say more) plays a twist on a fairly well known side-character in the Daredevil world and a potential, albeit complicated love interest.  The supporting cast is rounded out by great and often familiar faces including the likes of Bob Gunton, Vondie Curtis-Hall and Scott Glenn.  I would put the acting above the quality of any Marvel project to date, small screen or silver screen.  The creators have gone to the trouble of assembling an amazing cast and they haven’t wasted any of the talent available to them – there is hardly an actor here that doesn’t get a chance to really shine in this story.

I was impressed with how seamlessly the writing manages to weave modern realities like cell-phones and The Internet into a tale that was penned long before either existed and still keep the essence of the original source material intact.  I was also especially taken with the fight choreography and the decision to go with ultra realistic rather than action movie hand-to-hand combat.  The fighting fits the grounded elements of the story and Daredevil suffers the ill effects of fatigue and injury when push inevitably comes to shove.  People get hurt, people die and this show doesn’t shy away from either outcome or make them seem without serious consequences.

Little touches like nods to lesser-known villains, characters and supporting players are added fun for long-time readers to speculate on.  In light of Matt Murdoch’s well deserved reputation as a lady’s man, the future possibilities for romantic entanglements and plotlines are almost endless.  A certain “Greek girl” is referenced in passing and apart from Black Widow (since I find it unlikely we’ll see Scarlett Johansson slumming it anytime soon) I would say just about any femme fatale could make an appearance down the road.  In the wake of a confirmed second season, I’m excited to see where this Netflix series will go – based on the stellar opening effort I have no doubt the quality will continue to be top notch.  With literally dozens of brilliant comic storylines to draw from (Brian Michael Bendis, anyone?) and the demonstrated ability on the part of the writers to adapt this character’s world in a gripping fashion, I’m predicting a long, fruitful life for DD on Netflix.

                If my strong recommendation so far hasn’t convinced you, let me close with this information.  In mid 2012, after years of uninterrupted loyalty to the title, I stopped reading the monthly Daredevil comic.  Having endured about ten issues of the run of a new writer, the much heralded Mark Waid, I finally, much to my frustration found I could stick with the book no further.  Fresh off disappointments with other recent story arcs, I found Waid’s interpretation of Daredevil boring and tiresome at best, completely ill-fitting and groan inducing at worst.  This is not a popular opinion, at least among the mainstream comic book press, though in terms of sales the title has little to be proud of the last few years.  My point is, I had checked out of Hell’s Kitchen entirely and this Netflix series has completely revitalized my interest and passion for Daredevil.  While I eagerly await Mr. Waid’s departure later in 2015, all the while hoping Marvel will work their erasers down to nubs correcting his missteps after he leaves, I satiate myself with old issues and classic trade paperbacks.  To any prospective DD reader hoping to dive in based on a new appreciation gained by this show, I urge you: do not read anything written past 2011 until further notice.  The story you loved on Netflix has not existed in the comic since that time in any recognizable form – you’ve been warned.

As the closest thing to a resident Daredevil expert around these parts, I expect I’ll be returning to the subject at some point in future.  See you after Season two…or perhaps sooner?