‘Marvel’s Iron Fist’ Is The ‘Smash’ Of Superhero TV Shows

Disclaimer: I really, really, really like Marvel. I love the movies, I love the shows, and I have a longbox full of X-Men and Avengers comics under my bed. So when I watched the first six episodes of Marvel’s Iron Fist, I tried to do so with as fair and balanced an eye as I could. I tried to hold my own enthusiasm for all things comic book in check (along with the kerfuffle over Finn Jones‘s casting). So it pains me to say that Marvel’s Iron Fist is…not great. It’s an odd duck of a superhero show that seems dated and strange and too familiar and, well, just “off.”

I finally figured out why Marvel’s Iron Fist wasn’t quite coming together in the third episode. Very light spoilers here: We see a character in a glass coffin. The camera lingers more than a beat too long as the mechanized bed slides out to free the living, breathing person inside. It made me chuckle. That’s when I finally realized what was nagging me about Marvel’s Iron Fist. It didn’t remind me of its groundbreaking sibling shows (Daredevil, Jessica Jones, and Luke Cage). It reminded me of Smash. You remember Smash, right? NBC’s splashy, ambitious, well-conceived, but poorly executed ode to Marilyn Monroe and Broadway? The show became an infamous (or famous?) hate watch. It was a perplexing show that was both laughably bad and rebelliously good. Yes, parts of Smash were good. There were specific performances that shone, glorious musical numbers, and enough emotional heft to keep you hooked.

Yeah, I said it. Marvel’s Iron Fist reminds me a lot of Smash. Meaning, I found myself charmed by Marvel’s Iron Fist in spite of all its problems — and, hoo boy, there are problems. Marvel’s Iron Fist features stilted dialogue, iffy fight choreography, and a confused tone. I mean, there’s a scene where a woman literally cries when she sees a bag of M&M’s with the brown ones taken out. There’s context to the moment, but still. She’s tearing up over multicolored candy.

Despite all this, I watched all six episodes in a tear. I couldn’t stop watching. What was weird about this is the fact that I haven’t kept up watching another big Marvel show this winter. It’s true, my friends, I watched the Legion premiere and then stopped watching. It wasn’t that I disliked Legion. In fact, I was impressed by the glorious visuals and inventive narrative approach to the material. It just left me personally cold. It reminded me of guys I’ve dated whom my friends love because they shower me with gifts and sweetness, but whom I just can’t get myself worked up about.

Marvel’s Iron Fist on the other hand reminded me of the messy, sloppy hookups I’m ashamed to admit I liked. The sweet, spazzy guys whose arms I fell into, but whom I’d never want to be seen in public with. The encounters that I laugh about with my friends, but secretly think, “Actually, it was kind of fun.” That’s exactly how I feel about Marvel’s Iron Fist: I’m embarrassed by how much I enjoyed it. It’s the messy one-night stand of superhero shows!

So what’s good about Marvel’s Iron Fist? Jessica Henwick‘s Colleen Wing is fantastic. She’s a martial arts instructor dealing with her burgeoning addiction to the thrill of the fight. Finn Jones is fine. He nails Danny Rand’s childlike innocence. I’m excited to see how both Henwick and Jones interact with the rest of the Netflix Marvel cast in The Defenders (and I still want them to follow through with the Misty Knight/Danny Rand romance from the comics because Simone Missick would DEVOUR Finn Jones — and I want to watch that). There’s a fun rogue’s gallery of villains. Oh, the costumes are good, too. This is superficial, but I do want all of the female characters’ clothes. Most of all, I adore its dumb, puppy-like sweetness. There’s this push to make comic book adaptations darker than the source material. It’s as if we add blood and sorrow and tragedy and seriousness we’re rescuing the storylines from the pulpy, campy origins. Marvel’s Iron Fist is pure and exuberant. It wears its proverbial heart on its sleeve and, to be honest, I think that’s what kept me watching. Again, I really like the idea of seeing how this character plays off the rest of The Defenders.

Marvel’s Iron Fist has a lot of problems. I’d argue that its greatest sin isn’t its controversial casting, but the fact that it has to follow a swell of brilliant comic book adaptations. It’s impossible not to compare the stilted fight scenes to the frenetic and balletic ones in Daredevil. It’s tough to look at Danny’s poor little rich boy flight and feel the same wave of sympathy I felt for Jessica Jones or Luke Cage. Iron Fist fails in all of these comparisons. Nevertheless, it succeeded in entertaining me for a night or two.

So, yes, I will be binge-watching the rest of the episodes (with a bottle of wine) on March 17th. Shh, don’t tell anyone.

Season One of Marvel’s Iron Fist debuts on Netflix on March 17th. 

Stream Marvel's Iron Fist on Netflix