Ivan Radford | On 05, Mar 2025

This review is based on the opening two episodes.

Almost 10 years exactly (9 years and 11 months) since Daredevil first appeared on our TV screens, Marvel’s vigilante lawyer is back – something that’s almost as hard to believe as the amount that has passed. That sense of boldness, though, has always been part of Daredevil’s dark charm: when it began on Netflix, a landmark collaboration between the streaming giant and Marvel, it was a dizzying burst of fresh air, as it dared to enter the violent shadows of the Marvel Cinematic Universe that had rarely been explored on screen. After three seasons and a crossover event – featuring the rest of the Defenders, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones and Iron Fist – it was cancelled as Marvel pulled away to do its own thing. Now, after almost a dozen Marvel-owned TV series, Daredevil: Born Again once again impresses by just how unafraid it is to pull its punches.

Already renewed for a second season – what started as an 18-episode new incarnation was retooled into two nine-part chapters – the series is a strange beast, part reboot and part sequel. And so Charlie Cox agains steps back into the shoes of the blind lawyer Matt Murdock, joined – brilliantly – by his BFFs, Foggy Nelson (Elden Henson) and Karen Page (Deborah Ann Woll). We catch up with them in a bar and the trio bring such lived-in chemistry that their friendship is immediately believable whether you’ve spent three seasons or three minutes with them. But the show has bigger ideas on its agenda that merely reliving old times – and so a time-jump takes us forward by a year, to a point when Wilson Fisk (Vincent D’Onofrio, also making a very welcome return) has his eyes on being the mayor of New York.

“I’ll admit it’s not entirely unpleasant to se you again,” growls Fisk, as he and Murdock sit down together at a dinner for a cuppa. It’s a friendly, polite conversation, but it’s riven with tension and old grudges – it’s one of the nail-biting coffee dates since Michael Mann’s Heat. The show, under the eye of showrunner Dario Scardapane and co-writers Matt Corman and Chris Ord, once again frames the story around their antagonistic connection: whereas before they were immovable forces finding their places in the world, here they are two men attempting to leave their darker sides behind.

Vincent D’Onofrio does some of the best work of his career once more in the role, managing to physically intimidate just by breathing on camera while still underpinning Kingpin with a vulnerability that’s almost toddler-like. There’s more maturity to that pain and longing now, but there’s also more charisma and showmanship, as Fisk recalls at least one modern politician who can lie to the public and get them to look past his crimes and misdemeanours. For every moment we doubt and suspect him, we get another in which he bares his feelings to a marriage counsellor, attempting to make amends with Vanessa (Ayelet Zurer), a formidable Lady Macbeth-esque authority in her own right.

Charlie Cox, meanwhile, is impeccable, throwing ever fibre of his body into the role of Murdock. He’s always had an understated likability that he wears like costume while lawyering up, but it’s backed by a steely nerve that he can summon with just a tweak of his shoulders. His Catholic-instilled belief in redemption and second chances is balanced by his thirst for retribution – and Cox’s performance is layered enough to make that to-and-fro of conscience and anger not just apply to Fisk and others, but to himself.

The degree to which either man can do the right thing – or do the wrong thing for the right reasons – is the driving force for the show, and moving both men away from Hell’s Kitchen to explore that is fitting, as they attempt to escape their pasts. Other faces return, of course, including Benjamin/Bullseye Poindexter (the still-creepy Wilson Bethel) – and, waiting in the wings to make an appearance, Frank “The Punisher” Castle (Jon Bernthal).

This moral dilemma is refracted through the inspired introduction of another costumed figure, White Tiger, or Hector Ayala (the late Kamar de los Reyes), who is also the sole witness of some cops up to no good. Where does the line sit between corruption and comeuppance, between honest citizen and secret vigilante? When the mayor is busy trying to blackmail his way to the top, what does it matter?

Lead directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead bring their signature flare and trickery to the table, as they navigate the confused streets of a divided New York. A running vignette involving an online reporter (Genneya Walton) captures the fragmented sense of loyalty and faith among the population – something that echoes through the show’s repeated dives into Murdock’s perspective of the world. All the while, the added choral swagger to the soundtrack from the Newton Brothers (still using Daredevil’s original theme composed by John Paesano and Braden Kimball) ups the ethical angst beautifully.

The result is a relatively slow-burn drama rooted in fear, distrust and uncertainty. But even in its first two episodes, the show knows just when to let those simmering pots erupt – and when it does, the action is exceptional. The opening set piece is a sensory masterclass, moving from quiet dialogue to loud bangs, from bloody fisticuffs to silhouetted projectiles. By the time we’re seeing a law enforcement dust-down in an apartment, it’s clear that Daredevil: Born Again isn’t going to be any less brutal than its predecessor.

And that, in itself, is enough to draw us in, as Disney+ boldly takes us back to the shady corners of Hell’s Kitchen. Born Again’s biggest weakness is that it might be a little alienating for newcomers, although key exposition is smartly slotted into the opening two hours. Its biggest strength? It understands exactly made the original show so great, and it promises to deliver that while still taking us into new territory with intriguing new characters.

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