“Another sunrise with my sad captains
With who I choose to lose my mind
And if it’s all we only pass this way but once
What a perfect waste of time…”
Have you ever thought to yourself, “Mannnn, I wish this shitty comic book movie was ten hours long instead of just two!”? If you have, then Netflix’s “new original series” Daredevil is for you.
Films based on comic book franchises are an easy target for ridicule. They’re disastrously written, disastrously acted (as if the actors are being directed to do so on purpose), late-capitalist cash grabs that rely almost solely on CGI to drag along the corpse that is hastily thrown together character development and predictable plot lines. This isn’t unique to comic book films, they just do it better than anyone else. It sucks because if you read comics as a kid, especially some of the darker ones like Daredevil, The Punisher, Silver Surfer, etc. you know how well they were written, how laboriously the characters were developed (yes, the canvas for a monthly comic book is much bigger than a 2 hour film), and how much pain, isolation, and self-loathing that was in them. The bleakness of watching Wolverine as he lay there, half dead in the jungle gnawing on a deer carcass as his comics often began almost jumped off the page at you. While Hugh Jackman does the best he can and seems literally born to play Wolverine, he’s forced to do so in the laconic, vaudevillian Marvel-on-screen universe. Given the time it’s taken to make all these terrible movies and the discipline he’s given to transform himself into a hulking freak to play the world’s favorite mutant, it’s a shame they aren’t any better.
The (biggest) problem with Netflix’s Daredevil is that the creators were given 12 fucking episodes to creatively develop their hero, his friends, and his villains and they still completely fuck it up. Instead of trying something new, they use the same tired, misty-water-color-flashback vignettes as every other comic series; they just use a lot more of them. To be fair, Charlie Cox does a nice job as the lead role. Aside from showing up to the office almost every day with the shit kicked out of him (he’s blind so he falls a lot…get it??), he’s earnest and mostly believable. But his real-life/day-job partner at his fledgling “law firm” has the same forced and painfully acted bad lines as any other comic movie sidekick, just a lot more of them. As far as the action, all the fight scenes are interchangeable, Kung Fu slug-fests reminiscent of Rocky VS Drago. Also, and not to take anything away from Vincent D’Onofrio, a somewhat talented but limited actor who plays super-villain Wilson Fisk, did the casting department think we wouldn’t recognize him as the same angry fat kid who played Private Pyle 30 years ago in Full Metal Jacket?
Since it’s ever-increasingly important to the internet-activism crowd, let’s address the “social justice” element of the series. Instead of celebrating Daredevil’s blindness (yes, he was a blind superhero who lost his vision in a chemical spill that gave him uncanny, heightened senses which create a mind’s-eye picture of the world around him), they manage to trivialize it and only show the “world through his eyes” a couple times. And of course there are the car accident/fell-taking-the-trash-out deep tissue wounds and butterfly bandages that are brushed aside as lovable mishaps by his compatriots during office hours. This is all in spite of the entire opening credits being shot as an actually quite brilliant abstract-expressionist montage of what his world might look like, which would have been a tremendously cool and unique spin for this genre. In addition, they do themselves no favors with the #Feminism crowd. All three, mostly perma-frowned female leads have shadowy pasts and whose dialogues elude to that ol’ chestnut: bad choices in men. This of course renders them vulnerable and easily manipulated, although the writers seem miraculously unaware of this fact. The one female character that does appear confident in herself is the shitty sidekick’s ex-girlfriend who works as a young shark for the super-villain’s nefarious and Byzantine law firm. She struts through her scenes with the voluptuous confidence that only two thousand dollar high heels and a Versace skirt-suit can buy. So there’s that, ladies.
I muscled through all 12 episodes but only because at some point, I felt like I had to. And yes, Netflix announced yesterday that they’ve picked up the series for another season with a new director.
Oh and speaking of being born to play someone, the biggest takeaway from watching this was that HOLY SHIT, Scott Glenn was born to play Robert Durst in the sure-to-be-made biopic that’s coming.