Daredevil #5: The Promise of a Premise

Daredevil #5 – written by Saladin Ahmed with art by Farid Karami, colors from Jesus Aburtov, and lettering by VC’s Clayton Cowles – leaps into a new arc after crossing paths with Bullseye’s last issue. The two fought as Father Matthew continued in his investigation to determine the person responsible for targeting him and his youth home. Now, She-Hulk makes an appearance to provide information to Matt while confirming she remembers who he is, seemingly not affected by Matt’s resurrection and subtle changes to reality. 

Ahmed’s script works in the micro, succeeding in the delivery of fun character interactions or smaller beats but flounders the overall pace of the ongoing story. The steam is quickly cooling from the mystery behind Daredevil’s foes, and there is no real sense of urgency to solve the issue of the attacks on the youth group. Everything about this run so far has felt like a theoretical, a thought experiment of plot and stakes that never feel grounded or fully realized. That fact makes it difficult to find a footing, especially in a street-level book like Daredevil, even when it dips into the more occult or supernatural elements.

Those mystical elements are also a glaring issue with the run, playing as incongruous to The Heat plotline. The premise of Matt Murdock accidentally bringing demonic avatars of the seven deadly sins back from Hell and having to exercise them is a brilliant pitch on paper. The execution of it in the pages of this run has been less than stellar, delivering interesting spins on character but no heft or weight. This should be an excellent way to explore Matt Murdock’s spirituality and the friction between rational and irritation. Instead, there’s no time for exploration and the book has to jump into the straight acceptance of the demons. 

Much of that split feels like a natural result of the unfocused debut of the series. There has been little exploration of Matt’s return, with just a few lines thrown out here and there teasing something else at work. It’s mentioned in this issue that Matt has vague memories of getting his degree in theological studies, but the experiences are hazy. That’s a perfect way to describe reading this run. It’s hazy but certain moments or elements stand out for good or ill. 

Karami’s art delivers a similar mixed result, rendering beautiful pages in a few moments while the overall aesthetic of this issue falls flat. In general, the design and depiction of She-Hulk is a perfect way to present the character, and she is filtered through Matt’s perspective to become a powerhouse figure. With loosened inhibitions due to a deadly sin’s influence, this is a Walters unrestrained from civility but not reason like a typical Hulk story. Here, she is in a different gear as she devours tables filled with food and raging out over blocked gelato, all of which Karami’s pencils bring thrilling energy to. 

Elsewhere, the only other standout element of the visual style of the book is a stunning page that evokes the catholic roots of Matt through the use of stained glass imagery. The top two-thirds of the page recounts Matt’s reflections on being dead, and the visual lends itself to the fractured feeling the man is experiencing. His life (and death, and life again) are the shattered pieces of glass reassembled, built around the ideas of Matt Murdock, Father Matthew, and Daredevil. It’s a stunning visual that makes for a great encapsulation of what should be the core of the series but instead feels like a forgotten adornment on the wall of the larger structure. 

The coloring in this moment sings more than anything else in the issue, trading in the various reds, yellows, and oranges of demons, hell, and fire. Throughout the rest of the issue, Aburtov’s palettes pop and provide a clear consistency to the artwork but never escape the bounds of that stained glass page. In places, the shading of She-Hulk seems a bit greener than the typical approach to her character, but it serves as a great reminder that something is not quite right with the character.