|
BEFORE FRANK MILLER CAME ALONG,
Daredevil was pretty much a Spider-Man clone -- a wise-cracking
New York hero swinging from the rooftops and dealing mostly with
colorfully dressed criminals. Like all the other heroes of the
day, he was a good guy, someone who never thought twice about
the violence that comes hand-in-hand with working outside the
law. And the bad guys he fought weren't all that bad, really --
just maladjusted fellows who chose the wrong side of the law.
Heck, Daredevil even managed to reform one or two of them after
whupping their butts.
Clearly, Daredevil was fertile ground for an exploration of
the darker side of superheroing, but for the longest time his
adventures were straight-from-the-script superheroics, and his
second-tier status among heroes seemed unalterable. But Daredevil
made history when Frank Miller took over the scripting with
issue #165 (he had been the title's artist since #158). Miller's
tenure on the title is generally regarded as the beginning of
the "grim-and-gritty" trend of the 1980s, a time in
which heroes were psychologically flawed, villains that were
once simply greedy were now capable of unimaginable evil, and
the world in which they all inhabited was darker, dirtier and
full of moral ambiguities.
For instance, Miller took the Kingpin -- an old Spider-Man
foe who was positively cartoonish in his speech and actions --
and reinvented him as the overlord of a vast criminal network, a
respected businessman whose legitimate enterprises masked the
suffering and pain he caused as New York's most powerful
gangster. By giving him more than the usual superficial motives
of a comic-book villain, Miller infused him with a life all his
own, and he grew to become Daredevil's greatest nemesis, a man
who would not be satisfied until Murdock's body, mind and soul
were completely and utterly broken. More than once, the
less-than-invulnerable Daredevil nearly obliged him.
Indeed, Miller's tenure on the series was not a carefree time
for the Man Without Fear. Where once he was a joking,
snappy-patter kind of hero, he was now questioning his belief in
a justice system that allowed criminals to go free. The stories
in which he appeared took on a film noir kind of quality,
as artists -- most notably Miller himself, Klaus Jansen, and
David Mazzuchelli -- used contrasting shadows, dramatic lighting
effects and muted colors to reflect an urban landscape that
rarely saw color or happiness. More often than not, the villains
in Daredevil's world weren't brightly costumed world conquerors
or cartoonish gangsters with Tommy guns -- they were as close to
real-life villains and psychopaths as the real world could
produce.
And Daredevil was capable of faltering. This alone made him
seem more heroic. While heroes of earlier times always did the
right thing, Daredevil would often be tormented by the decisions
he made. He is not guided by some abstract notion like
"truth, justice and the America way;" his actions are
rooted in the belief that the system, however imperfect, must be
preserved. "We're only human... we can be weak," he
tells a young boy. "The only way to stop us from killing
each other is to make rules, laws. And stick to them. They don't
always work. But mostly, they do. And they're all we've
got."
Against incredible odds, Daredevil tried hard to adhere by
those words. And in doing so, he managed to become that much
more heroic.
|
