I enjoy Kevin Smith's writing. The humor and down-to-earth emotional characterizations and observations in his films appeal to me. His comics are a lot of fun as well; his love for the medium and the super-hero genre shines through clearly. But never has his comics storytelling been as focused and intense as it is here. This story is about ugliness... about an ugly pain that festers inside a human soul overcome with grief, about ugly people who believe in only violence or greed, and about the ugly deeds they'll do to achieve those ends.
Matt Murdock may be better known as Daredevil, the man with no fear, but he is completely enveloped in other emotions: grief and rage. It's been three years since his lover, Karen Page, was killed, and the man responsible is still out there somewhere. Meanwhile, men who feel the collapse of the World Trade Center was just the beginning of a larger crusade demand a demonstration from the assassin they've hired to take out a specific individual they see as a threat.
I've been a fan of Glenn Fabry's painted artwork ever since I first encountered it on the covers of DC's Hellblazer during Garth Ennis's stint on the book. His pencil work is strong as well, but it lacked the same focus and disturbing realism of his paintings. Until now. His detailed approach brings out the unpleasant side of the world that Smith explores here. The site of the WTC attack looks like a scar on the face of the world, not a peaceful but sombre memorial. The title character's anguish spills over from his face. Bullseye's sadism clings to him like a second skin.
Smith opens the issue by reminding the reader of the horror of Sept. 11, 2001, of the mind-numbing moment we all experienced when we saw that second plane plow into that tower, live on television. One might argue that it's insensitive of Smith to explore such a notion in a follow-up super-hero story... even crass. I don't agree. By hitting the reader with the horror of that real-world even, Smith manages to get him to immediately connect with the pain and grief that threatens to overwhelm the protagonist.
I'm pleased to see that Smith doesn't delve too deeply into the title character's long past with Bullseye. There's no reference to Elektra in this opening chapter, and that's smart. He simplifies the story, making for a more accessible read. That's even more important when one considers that if all goes according to shipping plans, the collected edition of this story should be released around the same time as February 2003's Daredevil movie.
Smith's trademark humor and cute references to his other comics and film work aren't to be found in this comic book. Instead, some powerful and well-crafted narration and dialogue bring an extreme story to a level at which those of us trapped in the everyday can appreciate it and empathize.
