It is now safe to say that season two of Daredevil: Born Again, under the sole stewardship of Dario Scardapane, has been more bark than bite. It posed tough questions about retribution and justice for Matt Murdock as Wilson Fisk ran amok through his cherished civic institutions like a bull in a china shop. Characters challenged him on the concept of mercy—even Murdock himself, who, with some reluctance, extended unwarranted grace to Bullseye, the assassin who murdered his best friend, Foggy Nelson. This week, the vigilante called Daredevil finally put his renewed moral purity to the test, and the results are, in a word, baffling.
That’s not to say “The Southern Cross” betrays the themes of forgiveness that Born Again has seeded since the premiere. It upholds them until they crumble, which, ultimately and perhaps predictably, trips up an otherwise focused season as it hits the finish line. The “Mayor Fisk” arc resolves as expected with another stalemate between Kingpin and Daredevil, but only after Fisk slaughters a small contingent of the rioting electorate—it’s Commissioner Gallo times a dozen, Grand Guignol excess on a scale befitting the heights from which the villain finally falls. This week, Kingpin revealed his true colors to the city he professes to love and coated himself in its blood—not metaphorically; literally—and Daredevil’s response was to give a pretty speech and cut him loose? To hell with mercy, what about justice for the people whose innards now paint Kingpin’s white suit?
This outcome is not especially surprising. Letting Fisk live to brawl another day makes sense because it upholds the series’ status quo. The problem with this choice, aside from its naïveté, is that all the time spent hand-wringing over whether Daredevil should kill his enemy now feels like a formality. It’s the MCU’s moral curve bending into view: Daredevil agonizes over killing his insane and/or brutal enemies because he’s expected to. And Daredevil flexing his mercy muscles after Kingpin’s belligerent murder spree renders his moral generosity inert and, worse, stupid.
Born Again letting ideas erode for the sake of plot is not without precedent, but this finale stands out in an otherwise reasonably engrossing season. Its themes of communication and propaganda under authoritarian strain finally served their purpose, with BB Urich successfully fomenting social unrest, however minuscule it looked (maybe Marvel blew its extras budget elsewhere). Kingpin’s ascension as the tyrant-mayor of New York used the methods of real-world political strongmen as a springboard to play with concepts like kangaroo courts and secret prisons, even as it indulged in not entirely ridiculous A-plots like Fisk’s televised boxing match that resulted in the unexpected death of his wife, Vanessa. Less successful were the bickerings between Hornhead and Karen Page over the retributive function of their resistance, arguing over right and wrong as their meager numbers amounted to a bedridden Det. Cherry, a plucky new White Tiger, a slumming Jessica Jones, and, of all people, Bullseye—the latter of whom improbably nudged Murdock to embrace righteousness.
The post-fight-night episode, an effective stealth throwback to the Netflix era, wove Foggy and James Wesley into the series’ grand design and underscored the ceaseless war Murdock and Fisk wage both internally and externally. That episode dovetailed with Vanessa’s demise, ending on a grace note that effectively recalled the death of the original White Tiger, Hector Ayala. Elsewhere, Fisk’s henchmen Buck and Blake developed a fraternal broship that ultimately did not survive the Wilson Fisk Loyalty Test—and a fascinating crack formed in Buck’s otherwise baleful granite façade. Whatever he ends up doing next season, provided he survives Bullseye’s bullet, could become Born Again’s next great character arc.
For now, we have “The Southern Cross,” so named, presumably, to underscore that Murdock’s decision to let Fisk walk out of that courthouse free is the crux of his season-long argument for mercy. It starts strong, briefly sputters into misty-eyed sentimentality, and closes on what will be a bracing, if temporary, change of scenery for the Man Without Fear. His final sparring session with Fisk—for now, anyway—erupts during the trial of Karen Page. Murdock’s gambit to drag his crimes into public view doesn’t make a whole bunch of legal sense—maybe that’s why the sequence descends into a Hell’s Kitchen revival of A Few Good Men—but it’s satisfying to see Murdock and Fisk spar with words instead of fists for a change. Feints as conjecture, jabs as accusations, judges refereeing the counselor’s provocations—it’s good TV, evocative of those earlier, more volatile Daredevil days when part of the thrill of watching was waiting to see if our troubled hero would set the world on fire just to spite his enemy.
Naturally, Murdock ditches finesse for brute force during the trial, throwing the video testimony of the first mate of the Northern Star into Fisk’s face like a brick through a windshield. From there, Murdock and Fisk’s back and forth—about what can and can’t be corroborated without a witness to the Star disaster—puts Matt at the crossroads of self-preservation and principle that Born Again has been steering him to for two seasons. He leaps with that famed fearlessness and asks the mayor point-blank if he ordered the sinking of the vessel. “You’re a fool,” Fisk says. “No,” Murdock smirks. “I’m Daredevil.”
It’s a wild, best-ever moment for the series, made even wilder when Murdock proves his claim with some fancy billy club moves in open court. It’s also one of the few times Murdock effectively trounces Kingpin by using his enemy’s hubris against him. Recall earlier this season, when the Anti-Vigilante Task Force was hunting Daredevil, and their boss thought it wise to issue an alert for his alter ego. “Bring this hero home,” he said. There this hero stands (with some effort, due to the gunshot wound in his leg), in full view of the court, the city, and the Almighty: Matthew Murdock, a.k.a. Daredevil, for the defense. With that, he declares Fisk’s Safer Streets initiative a criminal enterprise; thus, this jumped-up tribunal does not have a mandate to dispense justice. The court agrees, and Karen’s trial is dismissed with prejudice.
This legal triumph, ridiculous though it may be, doesn’t last. Outside the courthouse, BB unites the people, the resistance forms a line, and even Officer North defects to the side of the angels amid the ruckus. Fisk’s rage quickly escalates the situation, and the ensuing chaos, with Horn-helmeted protesters occupying the courthouse and gunning for the mayor, evokes a bizarro version of January 6, 2021. Daredevil and his patchwork freedom fighters come to Fisk’s rescue—“You’re better than this!” our hero shouts to the people, their target practically lacquered in their blood—before he turns to the mayor with an open hand and a closing argument. They both love New York, he says, and they can give it the peace it desires by walking away. Improbably, Fisk agrees. “You’ll understand if I don’t shake your hand,” he says.
And so Kingpin makes good his escape to that island of his and Vanessa’s dreams, and “The Southern Cross” reaches its disheartening conclusion. In the MCU, Wilson Fisk isn’t a byproduct of a broken system; he’s an anomaly who seized power through sheer tyranny of will and a canny knack for deceit. The resistance we’ve followed for two seasons never entertained revolution, only removal, the idea being that the powerful will eventually concede what they’ve held by force if you empathize with them hard enough.
But the law, such as it is in the MCU, still exists, as Matt and Karen acknowledge when the police arrest him for all that “being Daredevil” business. I appreciated the irony; after upholding the system he loves, Matt Murdock loses his freedom because of it. What remains now is the future, though from here, it kind of looks like leftovers: Fisk will doubtlessly return, along with Muse and those AVTF mugs. The most intriguing prospect of relitigating the “Mayor Fisk” arc next year is seeing Daredevil behind bars. The mind reels at the gnarly permutations. Will Born Again break formula for something more claustrophobic and dangerous? Will the guillotine finally come for the cruel and powerful? Will our Man Without Fear discover mercy is a liability in the hoosegow? Any of these paths would be preferable to taking another spin on Born Again’s moral loop.
Stray observations
- • Of the comics Born Again might pull from next, Ed Brubaker and Michael Lark’s “The Devil in Cell-Block D” from Daredevil (vol. 2) #82-82 seems likely, though I’d bet much will be gleaned from the more recent Zdarsky/Checchetto run. Good summer reading either way.
- • I’m officially dreading the Muse 2.0 arc to come.
- • As Matt argues his case to the judges in chambers, Fisk whispers a message to his super-hearing: “I can ruin your life,” he says. I wonder how good the range is on Matt’s super-ears?
- • Nice echo from Daredevil season three: the AVTF sets up a sniper’s nest with an agent in Bullseye garb, who is promptly dispatched by the genuine article. “Poser,” he chuckles. Not so long ago, Ben was wearing DD reds!
- • I wish the protests had begun much earlier in the season to illustrate this level of public outrage, but what can you do?
- • I sure wish the Mr. Charles subplot contributed more to Kingpin’s downfall. It feels just like the vague Thunderbolts tie-in is.
- • Related: Will Ben join a new iteration of the Thunderbolts? It’s a thing in the comics!
- • Why didn’t Fisk order an ambulance for Buck? At that point, he’s still technically the mayor.
- • Why did Bullseye hit Buck instead of Fisk? Did he mean to miss?
- • MCU-Building: Luke Cage comes home, and Alias Investigations is open for business. I’m ready.
- • Josie’s jukebox: Sam Fonteyn, “Statue Of Liberty;” Radiohead, “Pyramid Song.”
Jarrod Jones is a contributor at The A.V. Club.
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