For those who have diligently followed Daredevil from his early days as a gritty Netflix sensation to his cute cameos in Spider-Man: No Way Home and She-Hulk: Attorney At Law, Daredevil: Born Again will feel like a return to form. Resurrected for Disney+ in part by showrunner Dario Scardapane (The Punisher), Hell’s Kitchen’s most guilt-ridden vigilante is finally where he belongs—no more lurking in the periphery of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and replete with all the broken bones and salty language that have become synonymous with live-action Hornhead. While the changes Marvel and Scardapane have brought to the series are conspicuous, one essential element of the character thankfully remains: Regardless of which streaming platform he calls home, Matt Murdock (Charlie Cox) just can’t catch a break. 

Before comic-book devotees get too excited about the implications of the series’ subtitle, a quick disclaimer: Marvel Television’s new Daredevil series is “Born Again” in name only. For your faint adaptation of Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s seminal story arc, refer to the dodgy third season of Netflix’s Daredevil. That’s not to say Born Again doesn’t feature a fall from grace for New York City’s resident vigilante, with Murdock set on a blood-soaked collision course with Kingpin (Vincent D’Onofrio). But in spirit, if not in function, Born Again feels more like a sprightly season one than a dutiful season four, more indebted to the relatively recent comic runs of Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Charles Soule, and Stefano Landini than anything else. When Wilson Fisk ascends to New York’s mayorship at the end of episode one, any hopes for more of the scorched-earth energy of Miller and Mazzucchelli’s run are all but nipped in the bud. For now, at least.

Still, the two-episode premiere of Born Again sets a forceful tone by storming out of the gate. Its opening fight sequence, set inside and outside Josie’s Bar, is as ambitious and ridiculous as anything from the Daredevil franchise (Affleck era included). Aggravatingly, it’s a one-take wonder gone awry: The fight choreography hasn’t improved much in the intervening years, with the premiere’s directors, Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson (Loki season two, Synchronic), fumbling a digitally-spliced single-take fight between Daredevil and Bullseye (Wilson Bethel) that aims to outdo those bruising hallway brawls from the Netflix era. What gives this intro its emotional punch is the brief return of Karen Page (Deborah Ann Woll) and Foggy Nelson (Elden Henson), briefly completing the series’ core trio and imbuing the premiere with nostalgic warm-and-fuzzies before Bullseye brutally crashes their good times. “I refuse to believe that a tragedy had to destroy everything,” Matt says later. Karen’s cold retort: “But it did.” Are they talking about Foggy Nelson’s death or Daredevil‘s unceremonious cancellation? I say the jury’s still out.

If there was any remaining doubt that Born Again would be more reboot than revival, if it pleases the court, I now submit Foggy’s untimely demise into evidence. Given that Born Again’s original head writers, Matt Corman and Chris Ord (of USA’s Covert Affairs), were dismissed by Marvel Television to make way for a complete overhaul of the series (this time with a dedicated showrunner, which Marvel TV once hilariously believed they could do without), this opening sequence feels like a tacked-on compromise for fans reluctant to part with their favorite co-stars in favor of a new lineup of supporting players. Foggy’s death represents the passing of an age and, with it, the decency the firm Nelson, Murdock & Page once brought to such a cruel, pitiless city. Before he punches the clock, Foggy dutifully reads the epitaph for the Netflix era: “Reverence for the past, hope for the future.” It drives home like the final nail in the coffin.

Yet Foggy’s words are an amicable settlement. After all, we get to hang out at Josie’s one more time and enjoy a few drinks with Matt, Karen, and Foggy—the latter now a seasoned attorney, complete with a studly beard—before Bullseye arrives, hurling an infinite stream of ammo and knives at Josie’s law-abiding regulars for reasons that will only make sense for those who recently watched Daredevil season three. Born Again sure has a lot more cash to throw around, but its MCU-styled superheroics are a notable retreat from the visceral beat-downs that came to define the series. (I will attest that it is fun to finally see DD swing across rooftops like his comic counterpart, fleeting though the moment may be.)

Despite the vicious close to this sequence, which ends with a dull splat as Daredevil abruptly tosses Bullseye several stories to the pavement, this opener shifts rather elegantly into a symbolic new title sequence where New York’s structures of justice, religion, and society crumble, only to reassemble in the form of its most fearsome defender. Get a good look because that’s all the leathered-up Murdock we’re getting for a while; the remainder of the two-episode premiere jumps ahead one year, putting even more distance between the Netflix era and this fresh start. 

Speaking of distance, Matt has left Hell’s Kitchen (and his grody bachelor pad) for new downtown digs and a new firm, Murdock & McDuffie, which he shares with Kirsten (Nikki M. James), a crusading attorney. They have a retired cop on their payroll named Cherry (Homicide: Life On The Street vet Clark Johnson), a high-rise office, and a new battery of clients—a nice contrast to Matt’s former nightlife before he hung up his horns. Making things even cozier is his latest romantic interest, Heather Glenn (Margarita Levieva), a big-shot therapist who adds two high-profile clients before the end of episode two. With Matt’s absence as a nighttime avenger comes a rise in vigilantism in the form of newcomer White Tiger (Kamar de los Reyes, who passed away in 2023), The Punisher (Jon Bernthal), and, we’re told, some guy in a spider costume. Regardless of who wears these angry pajamas, vigilantism will not be tolerated by New York’s latest mayor.

Fisk’s long-awaited return to the city (after an extended period of convalescence following the events of Echo) sees his wife Vanessa (Ayelet Zurer) taking the reins of the Kingpin’s criminal empire as he pursues the mayoral seat for frustratingly vague reasons—yet another moment where Born Again’s break from the past creates storytelling discord. Didn’t Fisk go to jail for blowing up Hell’s Kitchen? Wouldn’t that be disqualifying? “If they actually elect him, then New York’s getting the mayor it deserves,” Murdock cynically huffs. If there’s any pertinent commentary to glean from Fisk’s political ascendency, it’s found in the details: the money Fisk throws at trouncing the incumbent, those ridiculous blue hats that say “Fisk Will Fix It,” and the Kingpin winning the highest office in the city despite the public’s grousing of his criminal misdeeds are all we get. “A rich man by his nature is self-serving,” he tells Matt during an engrossing diner sit-down à la Heat. “A mayor serves his city.” Sure, if you say so.

And so Murdock and Fisk establish a shaky new truce. “Stay in your lane; I’ll do the same,” Matt says graciously, perhaps stupidly, to his hated enemy. Fisk grimaces, and lays down his trump card: Should Matt ever don his reds again, “There will be consequences.” The game, as they say, is afoot.

This face-off, brief though it may be, is a lively attempt to amp up the stakes of Daredevil even as it scales back its superheroic derring-do. Luckily, these episodes are strung together with a surprising amount of thought and care, enough to gloss over the staid civic drama Scardapane and his writing team have laid out for us. For instance, there’s a clear effort to align, if not surpass, this series to the cinematic leagues with strong (if obvious) visual cues, like a shot of Matt’s neglected frying pan burning as the announcement of Fisk’s candidacy goes live, and two birds cozying to each other after Matt’s meet-cute with Heather. There are also stand-out character moments, like Fisk admiring his mayor’s desk, wondering if it once belonged to Fiorello La Guardia, which reminds him of his slain father.

While the vigilante angle to Daredevil’s whole deal is woefully missed in these two episodes, there is an earnest attempt to make this new world order as appealing and compelling as possible. Murdock’s new firm, with Kirsten ingratiating into his private life and Cherry there as the rock holding the whole show together, is a neat corner to hang out in, reminiscent of modern law procedurals. Their big case in episode two, which introduces Hector Ayala (de los Reyes) as an accused cop killer and sees Fisk contending with a combative police commissioner, gives the series an episodic aspect not entirely dissimilar from The Shield or—and I realize the loftiness of this comparison—The Wire. It’s a tricky balance, finding space for silly costume theatrics and grounded city intrigues, but as we see it struck in scenes like when Matt defends his client with a ridiculous argument (“[He] wasn’t in possession of his mystical amulet [at] the time of the incident”), it’s played completely straight and thus feels oh so right. Prestige TV with flourishes of comic book silliness has always been a snug fit for Daredevil. Curious that it’s taken this long to embrace it.

Stray observations

• • Check out Matt’s expression as he endures a beating at the end of episode two, delivered by unscrupulous cops sporting Punisher tattoos, who clearly have recompense coming their way. Is that agony he’s feeling as he takes their blows or ecstasy? When it comes to a good Catholic boy like Matt Murdock, is there even a difference? 
• • Did you catch Bullseye tossing lethal paperclips like Colin Farrell? Surely, that was not by accident.
• • Pat Kiernan returns as Marvel Cinematic Universe’s NYC newscaster, Pat Kiernan.
• • Matt: “Drakkar Noir, the scent of choice for New York’s Finest.” 
• • The episodes are interwoven with B-roll interstitials featuring apparent locals discussing the city’s events—Daredevil’s absence, Fisk, and the shortage of police on the streets. What happens in New York is deeply felt, and these brief interviews, led by BB Urich (Genneya Walton), niece of the late journalist Ben Urich (Vondie Curtis-Hall), act as the glue that binds this version of New York together. It provides a new vantage point in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, one that’s been woefully undersold these many years: street-level, where real people dwell, and sometimes suffer, at the mercy of forces far beyond their control.  
• • Fisk’s out for vigilantes: “Registration is like making a grocery list of cancers. I propose treatment.” Matt: “If I didn’t know better, know him better, I’d say he sounds sincere.” 
• • Michael Gandolfini, as Daniel Blake, is stoked to be here. I’m stoked for him.  
• • Fisk: “It’s not entirely unpleasant to see you again.” So true. 
• • I loved Dr. Glenn’s therapy session between Mayor and Mrs. Fisk. The performances are understated, yet the actors’ use of body language—Vanessa lounges back on the couch while Wilson sits on the edge, engaged and anxious—creates an intensified tension that will certainly unfold in future episodes.
• • Note that Punisher tattoo on the bad cop’s wrist. Surely, Frank Castle will be answering for his fanboys sooner rather than later. 
• • Josie’s jukebox: The Kills’ “Future Starts Slow,” The Magnetic Fields’ “I Looked All Over Town,” TV On The Radio’s “Staring At The Sun,” Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ “Into My Arms.”
• • What did you think of this second coming of Daredevil, group? Is Matt going budget-friendly and eschewing the suit for most of this season? Will Spider-Man thwip his way into Kingpin’s crosshairs? And what’s to be done about Vanessa’s new side-piece, Adam?