The Culture's Feeling: Born Again
I've been reflecting a lot on the meteoric rise in popularity of the Daredevil Born Again trailer, and the "reaction" content being served to my Youtube page. The recommendations are my fault: we posted our own faux reaction podcast, that in true fashion, was not really a reaction at all. The loudest sentiment (whether honest or not is another question entirely) is that "Marvel is back."
This forecasting apparatus launders the art through the lens of "will the culture like this" rather than "is this art compelling" nor "is this art of value to me", but the prospective impact of the work on a larger commodification of enterprise. No concern for whether the work gains popularity or finds a core audience, but a singular focus on if this component part can keep the money train rolling.
And maybe I'm feeling defensive. Me and Pat have dedicated the better part of two years to studying Netflix's Daredevil in exhaustive detail, doting on the text as it evolved from the passionate output of a tight-knit writers room into a jigsaw piece to fit in with The Defenders. The writers of Daredevil expended enormous portions of page space to buil and elaborate characters with needs and wants and weaknesses. The relationships between Matt, Karen and Foggy are some of the most cautious, dynamic work that takes other shows like Mad Men six seasons to find.
My investment is not whether Born Again is "faithful" to the original show, but rather, to contend with the fact that this is a story made by people. They woke up for a string of months in a row, went to their offices and studies, and got to writing screenplays. Costume designers tested fabrics and materials. Actors froze their arses off in various streets across Vancouver.
We're not re-experiencing the mystification of the authorial process as we did in 2012 with Tumblr' Super-Who-Lock cultural dominance. Instead we are a few rotations of the spiral down where the concept of the craftsman in time is obliterated with a casual gesture. This flattening of the work into a segment of content.
Because here's the thing: I don't really care what happens in Born Again.
Yes, we'll watch the show for the podcast. Yes we'll study the work closely and offer our full attention. And yes we will say things like "well this worked for me" and "my preferred reading here is" but this pre-sentiment as to whether this revives the Marvel vehicle outlines such a flagrant disregard for how these things work you almost have to compartmentalise these speakers away from the work. I've no interest in policing what is and is not media criticism and journalism, but a little academic honesty might reveal a line of tape down the middle of the apartment. That quiet divide we all conciliated when they forced video on us and took away writing as a viable living: we said fine, but you stay on that side, we'll have this little part of the flat to ourselves. Increasingly it feels like they're reaching over the line, further and further each year.
Based on our reading, Born Again has been an absolute shit-show to make. They filmed most of the show, tossed it out, and started again with the orignal cast. I can't anticipate any version of the final product that isn't implicated by the prior decisions. The question is less "will this fix Marvel" and more "can this commercial enterprise still produce art" and look, it's a good trailer. Making a compelling trailer is an artform of its own that is deeply impacted by how and when the trailer is made. We live in the combined trailer reality of Inception and the Youtube five second "trailer upcoming" sting era - and so yes, the Born Again trailer does look excellent.
But I can't shake the itch that writing and voices about whether Marvel is saved will shout over media writers in March when we actually experience Disney's attempt at Daredevil. Or maybe I'm just tired of the internet. Either way, I am left with the sour after-taste of unwanted adrenalin considering the state of criticism that will greet this effort to revisit a complicated work.
