Well, I hadn't taken a look at any bathwater for a while. My opinion may have shifted somewhat.
Daredevil by Frank Miller and Klaus Janson, Vol. 1 is the first of three fairly large volumes collecting their combined run on the Daredevil character, from 1979 through 1982. Now, there's an asterisk there - several asterisks, actually - since this is corporate comics, and it was created assembly-line style. Janson was the inker before Miller joined as penciler, working over Gene Colan, and took over as penciler/inker afterward. And Miller started off as "the hot new artist," picking up co-plotting after a few issues and eventually taking over as writer as well. So what most readers think of as "the Frank Miller Daredevil" starts up about halfway through this book.
But comics fans are completionists, and this is a complete package, so that's a good thing. It also has extensive credits of who did what - something comics weren't good at for a long time, but they made up for it starting sometime in the 1970s, and became obsessive about it in the flood of reprint projects starting in the '90s.
Included in this book are:
- Peter Parker, the Spectacular Spider-Man issues 27 & 28, written by Bill Mantlo and inked by Frank Springer; it's basically a Frank Miller try-out, I guess, since Daredevil guest-stars
- Daredevil #158-161, 163-166, written by Roger McKenzie (with Miller contributing for 165 and 166)
- Daredevil # 167, written by David Michelinie and Miller
- Daredevil #168-172, written by Miller
Now, Bill Mantlo has definitely written better comics than this. So has Michelinie. I don't know McKenzie's work well, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. But the stories here - even the ones when Miller takes over at the end - are filled with long, verbose, tedious captions that "set the scene" and "provide color commentary" but mostly tell us what we're looking at and repeat standard phrases about the character and world.
Daredevil doesn't have a single phrase that gets beaten into the ground like Wolverine's "I'm the best at what I do and what I do isn't pretty," but both "man without fear" (including related references to DD never giving up on anything ever) and "hey, don't forget this guy is, like, totally blind!" come up like a bad penny every few pages.
The stories are also...what's a more polite word for cliched and standard? There were a lot of comics like these in the 1970s and 1980s, and only slightly different before and after that - superhero yardgoods, rolled out to fill up pages and entertain an audience that just wanted to see this guy in this costume punching a particular group of villains and repeating his catchphrase.
Miller was an solid artist from the beginning, which is good. And Janson supported him well. They worked well together to make eye-pleasing pages full of superhero action, only slightly marred by the reams of words pasted on top of all of it.
Once Miller starts writing the stories, the elements of his later work slide in. The last five issues here are one plotline, in which The Kingpin - up to this point entirely a Spider-Man villain, and at that point retired in Japan - comes back to New York for a vaguely described plea deal in which he will hand over a dossier on his successors to the Manhattan DA in return for complete immunity on all of his previous crimes. (Which is, what thirty years of murders and gang-lord-ing and attempted spider-squashing? Nice deal.) We also get a flashback to Daredevil's college days, to meet the One Great Love of His Life, Elektra, the beautiful daughter of a Greek diplomat who drops out of school when Daddy is murdered by terrorists that not-yet-Daredevil isn't quite able to stop. She drops out, of course, to become an international assassin in a skimpy costume made up of mostly red straps.
As, of course, you do. In superhero comics, at least.
Bullseye, the most iconic Daredevil antagonist - basically his Joker or Lex Luthor - turns up several times, with a lot of hugger-mugger and opportunities for Daredevil to emote and express his pure goodness and desire for justice, including during the Kingpin plotline at the end. (I do have to admit that Miller makes better use of him, with less histrionics, than McKenzie did.)
So the front half of Vol. 1 is just a slight step up from a standard Marvel comic of 1979 - Miller is energetic, but there were plenty of good, energetic artists then. The end shows more promise, but Miller is still working in the same mode: characters talk too much, and the narrative voice might be pulling back just slightly, but it's still too intrusive, and spends far too much time telling the reader things he should already know or can see right there in the same panel.
I'm assuming all that gets better in Vol. 2; I'll have to take a look.
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