Daredevil: Born Again Episodes 1 / 2
"Heaven's Half Hour" / "Optics"
Writers: Dario Scardapane / Matt Corman, Chris Ord
Directors: Aaron Moorhead, Justin Benson / Michael Cuesta
We measure time in superheroes. That's true of any piece of pop culture, sure, but superhero comics offer the kind of time stamps that very, very few other entertainment institutions offer. Superheroes, specifically like the ones from Marvel Comics, are made to outlast their readership. But the adaptations, the permutations of superhero stories that make their way to screens? We're only now seeing a similar kind of longevity there, a longevity pioneered in a way by Marvel Studios. We measure our lives in superheroes ... and entertainment contracts.
And that brings us to Daredevil: Born Again, the second Marvel Studios release in the 18th year of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's the fifth season of a Daredevil television saga, spread across three different titles and two different streaming services (and two different production companies for that matter). This is the third iteration of a live-action Daredevil. Yes, the third; I highly suggest y'all track down 1989's The Trial of the Incredible Hulk TV movie, which holds up way, way better than it has any right to.
But to focus on this Daredevil — Charlie Cox's Daredevil — he's been with the role for 10 years, and the character's long-awaited return carries with it not only the weight of expectation that any superhero project does, but it also carries the weight of its own history. That's the shadow that the first two episodes of Daredevil: Born Again, "Heaven's Half Hour" and "Optics," exist within.
Fittingly for episodes of Daredevil, there's a brawl in those shadows — a brutal slugfest between the fresh start that Episodes 1 and 2 should be, and the dirty truth: These are Episodes 48 and 49 of a Daredevil show, and that ain't counting Charlie Cox and Vincent D'Onofrio's vital appearances in Hawkeye, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, and Echo (and a nice little cameo in Spider-Man: No Way Home).
But this is how superhero comics are, and it's how the MCU is. I, for one, expect a bit of, "Wait, what happened ... ?" with my superhero stories, and I have since I was 8 years old. So even someone like myself, a hardcore Daredevil superfan who's rewatched Episodes 1-47 of Netflix's Daredevil this year, was still a little fuzzy on all the continuity.
It doesn't help that Kevin Feige & Co. permanently borked the franchise with that damn Blip, which makes every mention of any character's past absence feel like an indirect reference to Thanos. Note: Wilson Fisk's oft-referred-to absence prior to Daredevil: Born Again is the result of the events of Hawkeye and Echo. See the tiny scars on his temple and brow? He got shot in the face in Hawkeye and got better in Echo. TV: it's just as confusing as comics!
Fortunately, Kingpin's extensive between-the-scenes cosmetic surgery aside, Daredevil: Born Again feels like a fresh enough start. The premiere opens with what feels, in retrospect, like a last hurrah — a victory lap, even. We get to see the Nelson, Murdock & Page storefront, we get another trip to Josie's, we get some exhausting flirtation between Karen (Deborah Ann Woll) and Matt (I mean exhausting to them, riveting to us). This is what we, the fans, have been waiting for since Daredevil was unceremoniously canceled in late 2017.
Of course it couldn't last.
To be a Daredevil fan is to be a fan of misery. There is no superhero who has had it as hard for as long as Matt Murdock. Reminder: Batman is still rich. Even Daredevil at his most happy-go-lucky (the Mark Waid/Chris Samnee era, which happens to be where Kirsten McDuffie, played by Nikki M. James, comes from) is still incredibly depressing. So yes, of course Daredevil: Born Again was going to open with Foggy Nelson (Elden Henson) being assassinated by Season 3 killing machine Dex (a.k.a. Bullseye; Wilson Bethel).
This hurts. It hurts me as a fan of the show. It hurts me as a homosexual, because the beard and the years have been incredibly kind to Henson. Damn. And it hurts me as a Foggy fan from way back. Foggy Nelson is the heart of Daredevil, and I've long adored that Daredevil's most enduring emotional relationship was with his best friend. But as an inciting incident, as the demarcation between what was and what is, this is every bit as seismic for Matt as the Blip (and also just so much easier to deal with; please, dear god, please don't ever let this series talk about the Blip).
After that, the rest of the premiere episode plays out as an overture. A year passes. Dex is sent to serve nearly a dozen consecutive life sentences. Karen returns for the sentencing, has a tense exchange with Matt, the result of both of them being too devastated and stubbornly thinking that the other one has forgotten that they're also devastated.
Matt now works with Kirsten McDuffie, who sets him up with her friend Heather Glenn (Margarita Levieva) using some subterfuge.
Vanessa Fisk — who just ... She was an art dealer in Season 1, all those years ago. And of all the character arcs, I weirdly revel in the way she said "yes and" to finding out her boyfriend was the kingpin of crime and now seeing her be in charge of the NYC underworld. Good for her. And her husband Willie? He's back and has his scarred eye set on the recall election for mayor, which he promptly wins in the most realistic turn of events in this superhero series.
The second episode establishes more of a rhythm, with the stage now being set. Mayor Fisk's anti-vigilante mission is pushed to the forefront when a man accused of killing a cop turns out to be a crimefighter named White Tiger (Kamar de los Reyes). Except he was in his civilian guise at the time. And he was breaking up a fight between two seemingly normal dudes who were beating up a defenseless guy on the subway platform. And the cop was killed when he lunged to attack and ended up tripping into the path of the oncoming train. Matt takes the case, of course, thus kicking off the season's first simmering plot.
Oh — and Matt's new romantic interest, Heather, is playing marriage counselor to the Fisks. Yikes.
I did appreciate that while admonishing vigilantes, Fisk mentioned Spider-Man. Fun fact: Kingpin started as a Spider-Man villain, and remained so for the first 15 or so years of his existence!
New status quo established, Born Again also pushes ahead stylistically from what we've seen before. The muted, almost jaundiced cinematography of The Netflix Look is gone, replaced with a colder, sober aesthetic. There's also a voyeuristic feel to the direction, with the camera capturing moments from across the street, across the courtroom, across the diner. The previous series lived in closeups, but Born Again is keeping us at arm's length — which, I mean, is very Matt Murdock of it.
As with any Marvel production, being keen to the behind-the-scenes drama colors interpretation. It's no secret that Born Again was retooled, extensively, after shooting the majority of six of its nine episodes. The pause for 2023's WGA and SAG strikes allowed for Marvel Studios (and, I think, Cox and D'Onofrio) to reconsider everything. The original showrunners, Matt Corman and Chris Ord, were replaced with writer/showrunner Dario Scardapane and directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead under the mandate to make Born Again feel like Netflix's Daredevil again.
That split is pretty clearly felt in the premiere, which comes from the new team, and Episode 2, from the original creators. The premiere, one of three new episodes apparently crafted from page one post-strikes, feels more stylized — and the connections to the Netflix show are even more obvious. It was a bit of a shock when Henson and Woll weren't part of the initial cast, and when Vanessa Fisk was recast even though Ayelet Zurer was right there (thankfully, she's back). After kicking Born Again off with what's essentially an 8-years-in-the-making coda to Season 3, Foggy, Karen, and Vanessa are all bluntly written out of most of the season. Foggy's dead, Karen's in San Francisco, and Vanessa the Queenpin has to steer clear of her husband's political aspirations. And when Vanessa returns in Episode 2, she's only seen on a couch next to D'Onofrio and never on screen with Heather. Will that remain the case?
And back to stylistic choices — the premiere's opening scene dazzled in how it illustrated Daredevil's senses, injecting a fluidity into the aspect ratio the likes of which we haven't seen since WandaVision. And the ensuing brawl with Bullseye, all smoke, bouncing projectiles, and labored breathing was another imaginative take on the ol' one-take action sequence. Episode 2 felt less inventive and more procedural, with only the thrilling final minutes — wherein wrongfully accused White Tiger's lawyer, uh, actually kills at least one cop — deviating from the formula.
But — believe it or not, none of what I've written about so far is what I want to actually write about. All of that was preamble to my deep Daredevil feelings, because dammit, I love Charlie Cox as Daredevil. I love Daredevil, full stop. I love him because he's a wreck, because he's filled with rage that he can't control, because he makes the worst decisions — and I'm also jealous that he has a job where he gets to wear a suit every day. I contain multitudes. And this new chapter for Matt Murdock, production woes and some wobbly stylistic choices aside, works for me because of what Charlie Cox brings to this role.
"I refuse to believe that a tragedy had to destroy everything."
That line sums it up.
We measure time in superheroes. In 2005, I was working at Books-a-Million in Murfreesboro, Tennessee and reading new issues of Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev's Daredevil behind the counter. In 2013, I read Matt Murdock curl up on his bed, fully-clothed, and silently give himself over to depression. In 2015, I binged and recapped all of Daredevil Season 1, overnight, for work. In 2021, I interviewed Charlie Cox on Zoom — and he thanked me for not asking him about the Daredevil return rumors. In 2024, that Daredevil panel from 2013 sticks in my head as I realize that I am addicted to depression after enduring a second mental health sabbatical.
In 2025, I watch Matt Murdock pick up the order of service from Foggy's funeral and put it in his pocket before leaving his apartment, twice. The way I carry one of a pair ticket stubs from my dad's nightstand, one in my wallet and the other six feet underground.
Ultimately, when I say we measure time in superheroes, it's not the battles or crossovers that drop markers in our timeline. It's where we were, who we were, who we were with — we remember how and why our lives intersected with those stories in a way that mattered to us. And, as a charming-yet-depressive, sometimes well-dressed man with a temper and a rigid idea of justice, I connect with Daredevil. And it doesn't matter what else happened in these two episodes, because Daredevil: Born Again met me where in the dark hole that I am in in 2025. I'm there with you, Matt.
How are we gonna claw our way back to the light this time?
