‘Daredevil’ is the One Marvel Superhero Show Non-Comic Book Fans Can Enjoy

I consider myself to be a casual follower of comic book culture. I’ve seen all the Avengers movies, I know the difference between Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, and Tom Holland’s Spider-Men, and I’ve watched the delightfully campy 1966 Batman film more times than I can recall. I know enough to get by at a dinner party, but not enough to understand what my co-worker Brett White is talking about 85% of the time. I’m an informal follower, a dabbler if you will, but the one comic book show I’m completely obsessed with is, you guessed it, Iron Fist.

Just kidding. I’m of course talking about the mercurial vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen known as Daredevil.

I’m obviously not alone in my fandom. As the aforementioned Brett White reports, Google Trends data suggests that Daredevil not only ranks much higher in terms of search traffic than its Marvel brethren, but it’s one of the most popular shows on Netflix.

But why? What makes the devil of Hell’s Kitchen different from similar shows? The easy answer is that Daredevil the series premiered before Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, and Iron Fist. But it’s deeper than that. I loved the first season of Jessica Jones and very much enjoyed Luke Cage Season 1, but I still haven’t watched their follow-up seasons. For me, an avowed comic book novice, Daredevil is more relatable and thus more appealing to me than superheroes with obvious powers. I understand Matt Murdock also has superhuman abilities, but, like, he has some chill about it. He’s a subtle badass who’s continuously trying to avoid his own personal kryptonite: Catholic guilt. That endless internal struggle is transfixing. I can’t relate to super strength, but I can empathize with Matt constantly trying to do the right thing, failing, and then repeatedly getting his ass kicked. Season 3 is basically 75% Matt getting punched in the face, 20% Wilson Fisk reminding people that he’s in love with Vanessa, and 5% Foggy and Karen being like “The law and journalism are the bee’s knees, you guys.”

I love it.

Would my enjoyment of Daredevil be enhanced by a greater understanding of the source material? Sure. But you don’t need to be steeped in mythology to be like, “Hmm, this Poindexter fella seems a bit unstable to me.” Daredevil just seems more realistic, more genuine. The show makes me feel like if I quit my job and started training 24/7, that I could be Daredevil. I mean, I definitely can’t. I don’t have superpowers, my understanding of the law is tenuous at best, and I would absolutely die day 1/minute 1, but still. It’s a nice, fleeting, wholly unrealistic feeling.

Part of the show’s allure is the everyday heroism of Foggy and Karen. These two endearing normies embrace the greatest super power of them all: their brain.

Wait, no. Super strength, hearing, vision, smell, and flying are all way, way better. I forgot about those. But Foggy and Karen working within the system to bring Fisk and his cabal of degenerates down offers the perfect balance to Matt’s natural proclivity for vigilante justice.

Luke Cage and Iron Fist have already been canceled, and the combination of dwindling interest and the upcoming Disney streaming service signify an uncertain future for both Jessica Jones and Daredevil on Netflix. Personally, I hope we’re treated to another chapter of Daredevil. Hell’s Kitchen isn’t going to save itself.

Stream Daredevil on Netflix