This weekend, A.V. Club contributor Caroline Siede is watching all of the first season of Marvel’s Jessica Jones on Netflix. After she’s finished with an episode, she’ll post a quick response. Though she’s working straight through the season, she’ll be taking some breaks, too, posting five reviews on Friday, four reviews on Saturday, and four reviews on Sunday. Weigh in on this episode in the comments below or discuss the whole season on our binge-watching hub page.
“AKA Crush Syndrome” (season one, episode two)
Jessica Jones isn’t a “fun” show in the traditional sense. In fact it’s downright depressing compared to giddy Marvel movies like Iron Man or Thor. But there are elements of the series that make it, if not fun, than at least enjoyable despite its heavy subject matter. Which is good news for anyone planning to spend a sizeable chunk of their weekend in its grizzled world.
Most importantly, Jessica is great at her job. A lot of comic book properties focus on heroes learning to use their abilities, but Jessica is already a seasoned pro when it comes to investigating. Watching her fake a friendship with a sorority girl in the premiere or pose as a frazzled nurse (newly-transferred from Grey’s Anatomy’s Seattle Grace Hospital) injects some dry comedy into the series. And the fact that Jessica immediately thinks to snap a picture of the dialysis machine manufacturer makes me both like and respect her.
She’s also incredibly self-aware on a personal level, which helps her brooding act go down a lot smoother. Throughout this episode people keep warning Jessica that her surly attitude won’t earn her a lot of friends. And she keeps telling them that’s exactly how she likes it. When her upstairs neighbor snarls, “You’re all alone so you have to pick away at other people’s happiness.” Jessica snaps back, “Lady you’re a very perceptive asshole.”
But despite how much I love Jessica, the episode around her isn’t nearly as engaging as the premiere. We learn some new information—Luke Cage has superpowers (which 99% of the audience probably already knew), Trish Walker is putting herself through intensive self-defense training, and Kilgrave is terrified of being put under anesthesia—but “AKA Crush Syndrome” loses some of the flourishes and film noir styling that made the premiere so beautiful to watch. And without those visual distractions, the show’s occasionally stilted dialogue is even more noticeable. (The idea that heroes have “one weakness” may work in a comic book but not in the more grounded world of this show.)