Daredevil #1 – The Professor’s Lament

Daredevil stories have been pretty grandiose as of late. The last three major runs on the title have taken Matt Murdock to heights more epic than anyone could have expected, pushing the character to a point of no return. No story can get as big as Devil’s Reign, nor can the title seemingly subvert the core thesis of Frank Miller’s run on the character, the worship of which largely hurt the last volume. Stuck in limbo without much direction, no one has needed a cold, hard reset more than Matt Murdock. From its previews, it seemed that Stephanie Phillips and Lee Garbett had a path of rebirth planned, one that was unexpectedly small in scope.

There is nothing splashy about Daredevil #1, which might just be the best thing about the start of this volume. Its melancholic focus on establishing Matt Murdock, lost within the memories of a home that has long since outgrown him, is a gratifying tone to get immersed in. For the first time in a while, we’re allowed to connect with the character in an intimate way that reflects, whether intentionally or not, just how prone Matt is to ending up quite comfortable at rock bottom.

There’s a silent anger toward the cyclical nature of Hell’s Kitchen, toward his fight as Daredevil failing to produce the change he’s hoped for. Beneath the veneer of gentrification, Hell’s Kitchen is still sick with violence, and in a brilliant blend of art and writing, we see that unending war catch up with Matt’s cynicism. None of this is stated outright, but it bleeds from the work in this issue quite effectively. You can feel that Daredevil has sunk into the fabric of Hell’s Kitchen, becoming a cog in the machinations of its evil. There is no change, just a wrinkle in the haunted heart of this New York City neighborhood.

The introduction of a new villain and a new cast of side characters only adds to this thematic throughline. They’re all charming in their own right, but act as vessels for Matt to question the cyclical nature of his life. He finds himself in familiar situations and relationships, but now he’s wrestling with his age in a way that builds his maturity, as an unchanging world slowly moves to leave him behind. The new villain captures this internal conflict perfectly in their debut, representing the ghosts of Hell’s Kitchen and playing off the same sense of eternal pain that Matt himself has relished.

It’s made even more effective when you realize there isn’t a hint of Frank Miller iconography anywhere in this story, something the title has relied on for far too long. This first issue feels distinctly “All-New and All-Different,” utilizing the suggestion of character history without any concrete connections to the well-worn storylines of runs past. “Professor Matt” is a unique idea for the character’s status quo, opening the title up to fresh storylines that can only be elevated in a serialized medium like this.

Lee Garbett’s art brings the subtlety of this script to life in effective ways. His Daredevil is effortlessly classic, leaping with the same enthusiasm as John Romita Sr.’s, flying against the night sky as Matt’s internal narration paints a very different emotional picture of these moments of beautiful superhero action. He captures the blank horror of Detective Forte, whose confidence in the face of a police system grown comfortable in its cyclical apathy offers a unique energy to counterbalance Matt’s own shaky self-confidence. The art team captures so much personality in its approach to character design and expression that I hope continues deep into this run.