Note: This contains spoilers for both seasons of Daredevil: Born Again
On the first day of spring 2026, my now-former boss asked if we could talk. This being the digital age, the meeting occurred via Slack huddle, where the poor man had to stare at the avatar of my wide-eyed lapdog while informing me that the company, with great reluctance and an extremely flattering letter of recommendation, had no choice but to let me go.
Finding myself with a lot of unexpected time on my hands, I decided to indulge the mild curiosity about Daredevil: Born Again that I acquired after reading an Entertainment Weekly piece about Matthew Lillard’s role in the series.
You might think that all this makes it sound like I only watched the show because I was unemployed. This is correct. I don’t care about Daredevil. I didn’t watch the original Netflix series and, aside from that time I roasted all of his ’60s-era villains, I haven’t read the comics. (No, I don’t want recommendations, but if you do, Jess Plummer has you covered). I went into the series with only a general knowledge of the “Born Again” storyline it was named after, the memory of my social media feeds exploding with grief after Foggy Nelson’s death, and this middling NPR review of the first season to guide me.
In fact, let’s start with that review. While I don’t disagree with all of its points, the chief complaint–that everyone knows Matt Murdock will become Daredevil again eventually, so it’s pointless to spend so much time on him being a sad civilian–doesn’t strike me as very convincing. A certain amount of predictability is expected in superhero shows, and has always been. The cliffhangers in the ’60s Batman series are effective not because we actually think Batman and Robin might fall into the acid but because we know darn well they won’t, and we want to be there for their moment of triumph. I think the same principle applies to Born Again. We’re not here to see if Matt takes up the Daredevil mantle again, but to explore why and how he recovers after a traumatic loss. So that didn’t bother me.
What did upset me was the fact that the old advice about how it’s better not to show horrific acts of violence because the audience will imagine things far worse than whatever you put on the screen has apparently fallen out of fashion. Maybe it’s not as true as it used to be, given changes in the industry and technology. But as a matter of personal taste, I don’t enjoy seeing geysers of blood during every fight scene or guys getting their heads crushed like pumpkins. However much I liked and appreciated some aspects of the show–and we’re getting to that–Born Again will be joining Our Flag Means Death and the Deadpool films in the Bucket of Cool Things I Will Probably Never Revisit.
Where the series really worked for me was in the characters. I was surprised and delighted to see my favorite Avengers failson, the Swordsman, though the lack of purple in his outfit strikes me as an act of cowardice on Marvel’s part. Charles is amazing, and the Punisher, fantastic. I really enjoyed how complex a character the Kingpin is, though D’Onofrio’s raspy voice reminded me of that bit from Mutant Mayhem where the turtles all razz Leo for his attempt at a growly Batman-type voice. (“You sound like you’ve got bronchitis!”).
Wilson and Vanessa made an excellent, horrible power couple. I was really sad when she suffered the same fate as Rosalie Octavius in Spider-Man 2, but I’m waffling on whether to label it fridging. Vanessa Fisk is a full-fledged character and a criminal in her own right. Her death was an indirect result of her own actions and not a random act of collateral damage. But her death did have fridge-like effects by giving Wilson a reason to become even more ruthless, which was apparently the showrunners’ main goal in killing her off, rather than any considerations about her own character arc, so maybe my waffle is too generous.
The other element I liked is the, ahem, elephant in the room: the influence that Trump had on the plot. This came up in the EW piece and is the main reason why I watched in the first place.
On one level, the comparison is not very appropriate, as Trump and Fisk are fundamentally different: Fisk is smart, and his wife loves him. A couple of the show’s actors have gone on the record to say that any similarities between Fisk’s Task Force and real-life ICE agents are coincidental, as this was all written and planned out before the ICE crackdowns. That may be narrowly true, but given that Season 1 featured Fisk’s baseball-hat-wearing supporters celebrating his victory, and given that Season 2 clearly showed a house flying a FISK campaign banner that is a blatant copy of the all-too-familiar TRUMP banners, it’s not hard to see how people are making the connection. It seems more likely that they were taking Trump’s first-term actions and rhetoric to their predictable conclusions, rather than pulling moves from a generic authoritarian’s playbook.
However it happened, Born Again certainly speaks to the moment. Isn’t Daniel Blake exactly the type of sycophantic weasel who would have signed up with DOGE, right up until he starts listening to his conscience and tries to mitigate some of the harm he’s done? Isn’t the scene where Daredevil and friends free the unjustly caged victims of the Task Force/ICE raids something you want to see happen in real life? I felt both satisfaction and sadness at seeing these swift acts of justice, knowing we will probably never experience such catharsis in the real world. The Trump era, like Fisk’s stranglehold on New York, will eventually end. Still, from my current vantage point, I can’t see anyone being held responsible or making even the smallest of sacrifices to undo the damage they selfishly and stupidly inflicted. Like Kingpin, they will be allowed to live freely, if not happily, despite the countless lives they have destroyed. As entertaining as Born Again was, it makes a poor substitute for real accountability.
Will I be watching Season 3? We’ll see how long I stay underemployed. But the fact that I’m not immediately shutting the door on the possibility of continuing to watch. This, despite my general lack of interest in the main character and my squeamishness, is a credit to the actors and showrunners.
All Access Bonus: Behind the Scenes of the Best Historical Fiction of the Century So Far
Earlier this week, we shared our picks for the Best Comic Books of the Century So Far, the latest list of our ongoing Best Books of the Century So Far series. And now, we want to give All Access members a little look into what went into it, as well as a list of the comics that didn’t quite make it to the end.
For these lists, we ask our staff and contributing writers to vote on the comics they think really made a mark. These aren’t just comics that were bestsellers or that were popular. They’re ones that really had moments, shifted pop culture, and pushed the medium.
If you haven’t already, check out the final list; we hope you’ll see some of your favorites there, and also add some titles to your TBR. As a bonus, below you’ll find more amazing titles that didn’t make it to the last round.
Which comics would you add to the list? Let us know in the comments!
Wash Day by Jamila Rowser, Robyn Smith
Heartstopper by Alice Oseman
Lore Olympus by Rachel Smythe
The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumokuren, translated by Ajani Oloye
My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Kabi Nagata, translated by Jocelyne Allen
The One Hundred Nights of Hero by Isabel Greenberg
The Deep Dark Lee Knox Ostertag
Lumberjanes by ND Stevenson, Grace Ellis, and Shannon Watters
Laid-Back Camp by Afro
Strong Female Protagonist by Brennan Lee Mulligan, Lee Knox Ostertag
Mooncakes Joamette Gil, Suzanne Walker
Thirsty Mermaids by Kat Leyh
Cheer Up: Love and Pompoms by Crystal Frasier, Oscar O. Jupiter, Val Wise
A Game for Swallows: To Die, to Leave, to Return Zeina Abirached
The Incredible Nellie Bly: Journalist, Investigator, Feminist, and Philanthropist by Luciana Cimino
Hark! A Vagrant by Kate Beaton
Detective Comics by Paul Dini, Don Kramer
Daredevil by Mark Waid, Paolo Rivera, Chris Samnee, et al
Blue Beetle by Keith Giffen, John Rogers, Cully Hamner, et al
Batgirl by Bryan Q. Miller, Lee Garbett et al
The Boy Wonder by Juni Ba
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