Mark Waid's Daredevil

I have been a fan of Daredevil since the 1970s.  Since the character's inception, Daredevil (Matt Murdock, lawyer) has gone through many changes.  He's been carefree and wisecracking, he's been dark and brooding, and he's gone insane.  Of all the superhero characters I can think of, his is the one that has been written with the most depth.  His love of women has led to him being labeled a bit of a womanizer, but as witnessed when the women closest to him die, he has troubles dealing with the losses.  His friends and allies constantly question his mental stability, and his fellow heroes have grown to distrust him.  His civilian identity has been learned by his greatest nemesis, sold out by a female he once loved who got hooked on drugs and turned to porn.  This was his first break with reality.  Decades later, his civilian identity was revealed to the world, and this led to yet another series of downward spirals in Daredevil's life. 

For Daredevil fans, it has been a hell of a ride.  And now the character has come back full circle with writer Mark Waid taking over the title in 2011.  Many fans and critics agree: The title has never been better.

I had to admit I was hesitant to embrace the new old Daredevil.  Gone was the depression and insanity.  Gone was Daredevil tossing villians out third story windows.  Instead, all this was replaced with a hero who cracked jokes and seemed to be having fun with his life.  He was rebuilding.  He was mending bridges.  He was getting to do the things most people would want to do with their lives had they had the chance to do it again.

I started reading the new series, unconvinced I would like it.  Daredevil was deep.  Yes, he started out as a fairly standard hero, but along the way he had grown.  He had a foundation in religion (fairly rare in comics), he had known insanity, he had tortured.  Taking him back to square one seemed not only like a bad idea, but also it felt unrealistic.  I know the idea of having realism in a comic seems ridiculous, but the best stories and characters have a basis in realism, and Waid making the character a blind Spider-Man felt wrong to me.  I read it with an open mind, however, and I was pleased.  Very pleased.

Yes, Daredevil is more upbeat, but the past hasn't been forgotten.  This new variant on Murdock feels real.  It seems like he is trying to make his life better.  He is enjoying every moment, but ... there is something underneath it.  The insanity still comes up when people think of him.  He can't dodge the past with the outing of his civilian identity.  And you get the idea that this could end for him at any moment and in a really big way.  Sure, the original Daredevil is back, but all the stuff that happened between then and now is still there, and that somehow makes this take on the character not only more tenenous, but also more dangerous.  If it all falls apart now, after he's tried to get his life back on track, it could ruin him permanently.  Marvel would not let the character just fade away, but if handled improperly after something like that which could happen, readers would leave.  Waid has advanced the story, advanced the character, and has advanced the readers' expectations of what they can expect in the character.  That's what a good writer does.

Waid won't write this character forever.  I'm a bit behind on the title, so he could even be gone by now.  What I do feel justified in saying, though, is that when he leaves the title, his name will be up there with the other great writers on the series.  Miller.  Bendis.  Brubaker.  Smith.  Diggle.  Waid.  This skeptic has been cured.

Burying Children With Daredevil

My earliest memory of Daredevil is also one of my most disturbing childhood comic book memories (on par with the clown that killed a child in a Charlton book), and it set me on course as a lifelong fan of the series.  The issue in question was 130, and it was a tale that dealt with voodoo.

I don't think I have the issue anymore, and I really don't remember much about it, but there is one scene (a panel, really) that stands out in my memory.  I don't remember what lead up to it, but that doesn't really matter, the end result was a close up panel of a young African-American boy buried up to his neck in the dirt, mouth open in sobs and tears coming from his eyes.

It was the mid-Seventies when this came out.  I was young.  Maybe between five and seven.  Possibly a bit older.  Either way, it didn't matter.  This image has stuck with me for decades.  I'm sure I bought the issue (or had my father buy it) because of the cover, but that was nothing compared to the inside horror of a child buried alive.

Voodoo was big in America at that time thanks to Live and Let Die and an interest in all things "occult."  To find it covered in comic books is no real surprise.  Daredevil was a mainstream title, though, put out by one of the two big publishers.  To find that sort of image still strikes me as odd.  I don't remember any other comics from Marvel or DC pulling off something quite like that.

I still read Daredevil today, but there has not been a panel to compare with that one.  Writers and artists have come and gone.  There's been great storylines and forgettable ones.  But that single panel has managed to worm its way deep inside my mind and has never left.  That's quite an accomplishment considering all the horrific things I've seen and read.  Kudos to the creators of this for creating something so powerful.  Unfortunately, the fact that I can't remember who they were or what the story was about doesn't speak well to the rest of the issue, but if success were based on a single panel alone, I'd have to say they were the most successful team in comics.


Mandatory FTC Disclaimer: I did not receive this issue for free, and if you click on a link I may earn a commission.

Band of the Hand

If you are a regular reader of Daredevil you know that he now leads The Hand, that group of ninjas who have run roughshod over the lives of Elektra, Wolverine, and others.  It is a plot development not without controversy, but I applaud it.

One of the reasons I have stuck with this title since the 1970s (and there are a lot of bad issues between then and now) is because it never really seems static and has had a sense that anything can happen (especially since the late '80s).  As of late he has had his identity outed, been jailed, and has (once again) gone off the deep end.  Now this.

Obviously there is a plan for ol' Hornhead.  He hasn't, as some people have said, "gone criminal."  He is, however, dancing on that razor's edge, and that's what makes the series exciting.  If you want a safe read where you are hardly ever challenged on what you can expect from a superhero comic, you can read any number of titles.  Daredevil has never been about conventions.

This plot twist could very well fail in an awful way.  If that happens, it will be a shame, but the title will live on.  There have been other plot lines that have fallen flat in their execution (Mike Murdock, working for S.H.I.E.L.D, etc.), but that's the joy of reading a title that is not one of Marvel's flagships.  It can be tweaked.  It leaves room for experimentation.  That will inevitably lead to some failures, but it will also produce incredible stories.

Only time will tell what this storyline turns out to be, but I'm betting that before it is over many of the critics will change their minds.  And if I'm wrong?  Eventually there will be a new writer who will bring new problems to Daredevil's life, and if the past few years are any indication -- it could be a very wild ride.

Enemy Mine

I just got done reading Enemy of the State Volume 1 by Mark Millar and John Romita, Jr..  I read the issues when they originally came out (who hasn't?), but this was the first time I read it since then.  It actually holds up well, and reading it in trade paperback format actually made it a better.  It was also nice to see Romita, Jr. back to drawing Daredevil again, and it made me realize just how much I enjoy his art.

A few friends I know think that Romita, Jr.'s work is too square looking.  I admit that I can kind of see that, but I would argue that his art fits the hero genre quite well.  His Ultron, Wolverine and Elektra all look deadly, which is more than I can say for some artists who have worked on those characters.

I've had the pleasure of have some instant message exchanges with Romita, Jr. in the past, and he came across as a very nice guy who was happy to discuss comics and his work.  I don't claim a friendship with the man or anything, and I doubt he even remembers those chats (as I'm sure he's engaged in thousands of those with fans), but it meant something to me.  Art is a skill I don't have but desperately wish I did, and when I come across an artist I like, I tend to have a lot of respect for them.

Romita, Jr. is one of those artists.  His father, a comics legend, isn't bad, either, but Romita, Jr., I have to say, has a style all his own that stands out in an art form where imitation is far too often the norm.

The Joke's on You, Jack

Few comic book villains are as none by the non-comic book reading public as the Joker.  Granted, he's never been my favorite villain, but when he's done well (think Alan Moore's The Killing Joke) he's incredible.  Unfortunately, like a lot of popular characters, he is often overused (though nowhere near as much as Wolverine) and often poorly written. 

Frank Miller's done the character justice, as have a few others.  Without the Joker, Batman wouldn't be nearly as effective a hero.  The Joker is his polar opposite.  While Daredevil has the Kingpin, those two characters work because they are both very similar to one another.  Joker and Batman is a totally different story.

Decades ago the Joker had his own comic book series.  It lasted about nine issues if memory serves me correctly, and seemed like an odd idea for a series.  I have an issue or two somewhere and will someday collect them all.  He's not my favorite character, but I will admit to taking some pleasure in reading his exploits.  There's something very refreshing about an off-kilter psychopath in make-up.  Sort of like a less sinister Rush Limbaugh or something.

Joker has already cemented his place in comic book history.  There's no doubt he deserves his spot, too.  Years from now, if our culture continues upon this path, the Joker will still be around, and he won't have changed much.  There's no need to upgrade a character that works so well from the start.  (Yes, he has changed a bit since his inception, but the course he's been on for quite some time now is the one he'll be staying on as far as I can see.)  That's what makes a character like him timeless and a character like, say, Darkhawk a toss-off to be used sparingly at best.

Now if Alan Moore would agree to do a Joker series, I'd be getting that every month without question.  Until then, however, I'll take the good stories when they come up and ignore the vast majority of them out of fear they'll be exactly as exploitative as I know they will be.  

Cover Review: Daredevil #36

I'm a huge fan of the Daredevil character. No secret there. The above issue is #36 in his original Marvel series. As you can see, twelve cents was it all it took for about twenty minutes of entertainment. My how times have changed.

This is a mediocre Daredevil cover, and this series had plenty of those. Gene Colan, an artist I've never really liked because he makes everyone look a little deformed, did the pencils and Paul Reinman went crazy on the inks. The result is a cover that could've been really good, but instead looks unkempt.

The use of the single light to spotlight the unconscious Daredevil is a great touch. Looking at the man's face who is holding him, however, gives the reader the sense this guy just came across our hero. He doesn't look like the type who could take down the Man Without Fear. In fact, he looks a little mentally disabled. If that was supposed to give readers a sense of danger, it didn't work. If it was to get us to question what was going on -- mission accomplished.

"The name of the game is ... MAYHEM!" reads the cover blurb. Is mayhem what is going on, or is it the name of the man who is holding Daredevil's limp body? Good questions again, and one can only hope the former is true because this guy looks to be light years away from Mayhem. Maybe it's that goofy outfit which makes him look like he should be a figure on a futuristic playing card from Bicycle. ("I got the Joker, and he's wild!") It leads to questions, and since I think Daredevil readers tend to demand a little more from their comic book stories, this is a good thing.

With all respect to Colan, too, this is one of his more reserved works. Nobody's collar is flying out of control, no coats are whipping around, lips aren't distorted, no hair is askew. Daredevil's limp, outstretched hand seems to be pleading for our help, too, which is a great ploy on Colan's behalf. It gives the reader a stake in the outcome of the tale. Regular readers can't help put to pick it up. First time readers may just be curious enough to see what is going on. It will not, however, attract a reader who has never had a desire to read the title before.

This isn't the worst Daredevil cover ever done. Nor is it the best. It kind of matches what often happens with this title. When it's good, it's really good. Otherwise, it just tends to sit there until a capable writer (like Frank Miller, Brian Michael Bendis or Ed Brubaker) comes along.

Moonstone

Moonstone. When I first came across her she was fighting the Hulk. I don't remember much more than that, and I haven't kept up on her adventures with the Thunderbolts, but I've always been interested in the character.

First there's this costume. I can't put my finger on why it works, but it does. Especially with the hair. If the hair were any other color it wouldn't work. The entire thing looks almost alien. Kree, perhaps?

I don't remember much about her powers or origin. Actually, I'm not even sure I ever knew her origin. All I remember is that she looked cool, gave the Hulk a run for his money, and had something about her that has stuck with me all these years.

Of course, Moonstone could be a lot like my "love" of the TV show "Get A Life." I remember thinking that show was great, and then years after it went off the air I ended up getting home copies of every episode from a guy. You know what? The show sucked. I couldn't figure out what I liked about it in the first place, and maybe that's why I haven't been too keen to read much with Moonstone in it. I know Daredevil will always be good, and so will Batman. Those characters change, but the core is solid. Moonstone? I didn't know her that well in the first place, so maturity may have tarnished my decidedly sketchy memories.

Either way, the costume's still cool.

Archers

My friend and I have this common fondness for archer superheroes. We both are fans of Hawkeye and Green Arrow. I don't know where his love of these characters came from, but I think I've pinpointed mine.

I used to use a bow to hunt. Due to that, I had to do a lot of target practice with the weapon. There is something methodical and primitive about pulling back the string, aiming, holding steady and then letting go. I never killed anything with the bow, and I have long since given up hunting, but that bloodlust remains.

These archer characters have something a lot of other heroes lack: realism. Superman could never happen. Wolverine is a myth. But Hawkeye and Green Arrow are (essentially) guys with bows fighting crime. Granted, they do some amazing things, and well know most of those trick arrows would never fly straight, but at their core these are just guys in suits with a weapon that is by all standards fairly archaic. (How many armies use bows and arrows these days? None. They all died.) Going into a fight against Ultron with only a bow and superhuman aim takes guts. That is why these characters appeal to me.

Hawkeye, in my opinion, was at his best leading the West Coast Avengers. For some reason I thought he always worked better as a team player, even though he always felt like an outsider there. I think of Green Arrow in the exact opposite way. In a team he tends to get overshadowed by just about everyone else. His solo series from Kevin Smith, who later left it, was pretty damn good despite some art that took a little getting used to.

I never cared too much about characters with big guns. I am more attracted to the ones who seem more honest, more real. Daredevil, Batman, Hawkeye, Green Arrow, Silver Surfer (that one is a joke). Their characters, when written properly, give the story something a Cyclops story can never have. A feeling of realistic urgency. Yes, comic books are largely about escape, but an escape based in reality is a far more therapeutic escape than one based in fantasy. And that works for me any day.