Today, Ethan and Drew are discussing Daredevil 28, originally released July 10th, 2013. 

Ethan: There are some classic tropes we associate with The High School Reunion. The kids who used to be ugly are now the fit, glowing, underwear models; the jerky jocks are flipping burgers; the nerdy punching-bags all own their own companies and are rolling in dough. So when Matt Murdock comes face to face with a childhood bully in need of some help, it’s no surprise that the bully is now down on his luck while Matt’s strutting around in a suit. On the other hand, maybe things are a little more complicated. Maybe there’s a little more virtue in the dirtbag and a little more dirt in the virtuoso lawyer-superhero than we knew about before? Writer Mark Waid and artist Javier Rodriguez continue to keep us on our toes as they shuffle our expectations in Daredevil #28.

Daredevil continues to visit his partner in the hospital as Foggy is treated for cancer. Catapaulting above the skyline after the visit, Matt contemplates how tightly his schedule is being squeezed as he tries to keep up with the things that are important to him — his friend, his law practice, and his superhero antics. Back at his office, he finds a familiar face and potential client waiting for him: Nate Hackett, who used to beat him up when they were kids in school. Hackett — who is far from angelic — was recently arrested on trumped up charges, and wants to sue the state for damages, since the arrest cost him his job. Matt finds his way past the initial outrage at being asked to help a childhood bully and trains Hackett to represent himself in court. The big day comes, and Hackett comports himself pretty much how you’d expect, remembering the broad strokes of his legal cram session and filling in the gaps with ballpoint pen notes scrawled on the back of his hand. Things are going well, up until Hackett mentions overhearing some plans while he was a member of the Sons of the Serpent — a terrorist group. At that, the judge pulls a handgun from his robes and shoots Nate in the solar plexus. As Matt crouches over the fallen man, another shot rings out, though we don’t see where the second shot lands.

Let’s be honest — the judge was firing basically point-blank, Matt is distracted by his client’s injury, bullets fired from a 9mm handgun have a muzzle speed of around 375 m/s (839 mph) — Matt’s totally dead. Tragic end for such a stand-up hero, killed by a cheap-shot from a figure of authority in his chosen profession. So many friends among the powered and civilian communities… he’ll really be missed.

HA, just kidding. I’m sure the next issue will open with Matt springing out of the way as the bullet buries itself harmlessly into the floor. The laws of physics are for losers.

Thing is, even contemplating the death of Matt Murdock is a little sobering. He occupies a special place in the superhero community. Captain America is hope and grit and justice; Superman is selflessness and momentum and strength; Daredevil is underdog and compassion and brilliant strategist. He’s more human than most superheroes, and he’s more godlike than most mortals. Never mind that “man without fear” stuff; he usually comes across as a man without vice, biggest heart and cleanest nose in town. Like a more mature version of Hawkeye (ZING). Check out his inner conflict as his super-senses are pitted against the prospect of spending hours of torture in the same room as the corrosive scent of the chemotherapy drugs pumping through Foggy’s system:

Mind over matter, man over impulse, friendship over self. At least, that’s typically how we see him. Until we meet Nate from his past. Oh sure, at first, it’s more of the same — scrawny kid who gets pummeled with words and fists day in and day out who rises above to both excel at school and in life, giving his sight to save an old, blind pedestrian from a truck carrying toxic chemicals that’s barreling out of control.

This is our vision of Matt, and as it turns out, pretty much his vision of himself too. But maybe that’s not quite the full story. In the midst of Matt’s wrathful reverie as he recalls the months of his youthful persecution, Nate pulls him up short with one sentence: “Look, I know we weren’t close, but it’s not like YOU were the easiest kid to like.” Coming from the mouth of the person who made his early years a living hell, this stops Matt cold. How DARE this piece of trash say something like that to him? Who does he think he is? What the HELL does he mean by coming here and saying–

Ahhhhhh-oh. Erm. Huh.

I love those two panels for how much they screw with our typical perception of heroes, and especially Matt. He’s humble, he’s understated, he’s a good guy, so seeing him as a self-important, braggy brat is a glass of ice-water to the face. Sure, as Matt states in his defense, “you SAY things when you’re a kid.” Yes, he was a skinny wimp who needed to feel special and wanted scare off the bigger kids with big words. But at the same time, his posture as he stands on that cafeteria table, and the stuck-up angle of his chin as he condescends to explain the meaning of the word “lucrative” are delicious for how contrary they are to how we usually see him.

Drew, what did you think about this talk-y issue as a follow-up to the action-heavy martial-arts arc that preceded it? What did you think of the revelation that Matt might have brought some of those schoolyard beatings upon himself? Do the petty mistakes of your childhood matter at all once you grow up?

Drew: The short answer is: they do…if you remember them as mistakes. I’m reminded of that episode of 30 Rock where Liz goes to her high-school reunion hoping to rub her success in her bullies’ faces, only to learn that she was the bully in their eyes. There’s something about how self-conscious we are as children that we always feel picked on — even if we dish it out as well as we get it. Matt had spent his entire life resenting Nate, but when Nate offers a different perspective, Matt isn’t so sure. Not that Matt’s prickish behavior excuses the violence we see Nate and his cronies inflicting, or Nate’s eventual association with a white supremacy group, but it does make it seem less arbitrary. Indeed, while Matt’s memories of being picked on as a kid seemed to fade away, Nate has borne the cross of persecuting the blind good Samaritan his entire life.

I’m always a fan of Waid’s courtroom stuff, and I loved that even the opposing counsel was correcting Nate by the end of the scene. Of course, it’s Rodriguez’s brilliant pacing that keeps the tension up throughout that scene. He’s careful to keep us oriented in space right up until the first “BLAM!” of the judge’s gun. We briefly loose sense of space, as Matt rushes to Nate’s side, but clarifies the space again as he sets up that Matt is in the crosshairs before cutting away for that final “BLAM!” It’s expertly laid-out, and maybe-sort-of almost makes you think Matt might have been shot.

Rodriguez (who covers both pencils and colors here) is hot throughout the issue. His prior experience as colorist on the title gives him a great feel Daredevil house style, but he also brings back some of the more graphic layout elements from Paolo Rivera and Marcos Martin’s work earlier in the series. I’m particularly enamored of the sequence where Matt’s billy club is thrown from one panel to another — but not before ricocheting off of a few more.

It’s kind of nonsense post-modernism, but I love it.

The best part of the issue, though, has to be the first sequence Ethan included, where Matt steels himself for an afternoon with Foggy. It’s a simpler, more relatable act of heroism. Actually, it has the danger of coming off as immodest — look at the big hero, who can withstand bad smells in the name of friendship — but because it comes from a place of loyalty, it seems much sweeter. No matter who is at fault in Matt’s relationship with Nate, the flashbacks here really drive home just how special Foggy is to Matt — he’s his first and closest friend, and he’ll do whatever he has to to give him support.

After the breathless build-up to issue 27, I love the way this issue takes a break from the heavier crime-fighting stuff — the page above is really the only Daredevil action in the issue. The story is relatively self-contained (with allowances to resolve this cliffhanger within a few pages next month), and is chock-full of both event and pathos. I suppose childhood flashbacks will always be relatable — we were all children once — but they’re rarely as rewarding.

For a complete list of what we’re reading, head on over to our Pull List page.  Whenever possible, buy your comics from your local mom and pop comic bookstore.  If you want to rock digital copies, head on over to DC’s website and download issues there.  There’s no need to pirate, right?