Daredevil: The Red Devil Never Stops Fighting
As a child, I remember how my mother would take me to the city center to buy used comics. Amidst piles of yellowing pages, I discovered Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the Avengers… and also Daredevil, the character we here knew as "Diabólico" due to a questionable translation. The correct adaptation should have been "Temerario," but the word "Devil" sounded more direct, more impactful. This "red devil" not only had a dazzling costume, but a story that left a permanent mark on me.
Daredevil was born in 1964, created by the brilliant minds of Stan Lee and Bill Everett. I always thought the real "diabolical" genius was Stan Lee, for creating a blind superhero, a lawyer in whom blindness was not a weakness but a metaphor for blind justice. The man could "see in the dark" like a bat, something even Batman couldn’t do! Furthermore, his universe, the dark streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his enemies, his conflicts… everything was designed to make us feel the chaos of a place steeped in violence and crime.
It’s hard not to imagine that this character would have been perfect for great filmmakers like Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino. Matt Murdock, the man behind Daredevil, is a Catholic Irishman with a consuming faith, trapped in a whirlwind of internal conflicts that have formed the backbone of so many great films. Scorsese, with his mastery of exploring morality and ambiguity, would have seen in Daredevil a rich, complex character deserving of a human drama that tugged at the deepest emotions. And Tarantino, of course, would have thrived with the boxing fights, gang wars, and ninja masters.
But, among so many adaptations, two moments in Daredevil’s history stand out. The first was when Frank Miller, a genius of graphic storytelling, took over the creative reins of the comic. Under his pen, Daredevil transformed into a dark noir tale, inspired equally by German expressionism and Alfred Hitchcock’s visual suspense. And of course, it was Miller who gave us the masterful Born Again in 1986, a story so brutal and human that, if it ever became a movie, the direction should definitely go to someone like Scorsese or Tarantino.
The second great moment was the era of D.G. Chichester and Scott McDaniel, who, in 1992, tried to capture Miller’s spirit in Fall From Grace. This comic has obsessed me for years, especially due to its connection to the title of a Morbid Angel album, Blessed Are the Sick (1991). I can’t help but think that many Daredevil story titles, such as Born Again or End of Days, sound more like death metal anthems than comic book titles. Imagine, for a moment, a Daredevil film with a soundtrack like that: the contrast between light and dark, sacred and profane—something that would have certainly given the 2003 Ben Affleck film a unique atmosphere.
Speaking of Ben Affleck, who else could have been so lucky in his career? Two Jennifers, two superheroes. The 2003 Daredevil movie, though considered a failure, had potential. The extended version of the film showed what could have been a story worthy of the character’s depth. But it was the 2013 Netflix series that truly captured the essence of Daredevil. Charlie Cox, with his portrayal of Matt Murdock, brought to life a hero who finally resonated with fans. The Hell’s Kitchen universe, more elaborate than ever, found its place on television.
Now, a new question arises: Will Guardian Devil (1998), written by Kevin Smith, ever make it to the screen? This is another one of Daredevil’s great gems, a plot that mixes religion, sacrifice, and a touch of the supernatural, where Daredevil fights to save a child who could either be the Antichrist or the Messiah. The premise alone is intriguing. And, in an unexpected twist, I wonder if a contemporary writer like Xavier Velasco would draw inspiration from the title for his own novel Diablo Guardian.
However, we can’t forget Last Hand (2004), written by Brian Michael Bendis. In this story, Daredevil not only defeats his arch-nemesis Kingpin, but in a twist worthy of The Godfather, he becomes the new king of organized crime. A story so laden with morality, power, and corruption that, in the hands of the right director, it could become one of the most impactful films in cinema history.
It’s curious to think that, despite all these twists and adaptations, Daredevil remains a character that resists being fully understood. Each story, each version, each reinterpretation, gives us a new layer of his tumultuous existence. Because in the end, Daredevil is not just a hero. He’s a reflection of our own internal struggles, those we’d prefer to leave in the shadows but that define us, transform us, and perhaps, save us.
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