Daredevil 181

Last Hand by Frank Miller and Klaus Janson

One Sentence Overview: Discovering that the Kingpin has employed a new assassin, Bullseye engineers a jail break in order to confront his replacement

Most iconic issue ever? If not, it's pretty close. Frank's transformation of Daredevil from a second rung (and that's being kind) title to probably the most acclaimed book in the stable is signified here by being honoured with a double sized issue -the first time in its history. But does this issue deserve its lofty reputation?

Let's not beat around the bush. Yes. Yes, it does. One of the interesting (or difficult) things about reading Daredevil in order from start to present is the attempt to read each issue objectively and not to be too swayed by its acclaim. The absolute reality is that, since Frank took over the scripting duties, the title really has shifted gear and acquired storytelling of the highest order. Honestly. If I thought these stories were over-rated, I would be happy to tell you that.

But what's so good about this particular little floppy? Well, its iconic status derives principally from the death of Elektra. And I'll come on to that extraordinary scene. However I think that that in itself is actually not the most daring aspect of the scripting here. Let me explain.

The entire story is told from Bullseye's viewpoint. At first the reader is drawn in as they realise they're getting an explicit insight into the sociopath's world view. This perhaps isn't particularly bold. Pick up any newspaper the day after some kind of homicidal maniac or serial killer has tried to massacre innocent folks for no apparent reason and you'll find columns of print desperately looking for why on earth this could have happened. That's certainly been the case recently in the UK where there have been two high profile, seemingly inexplicable, multiple shootings in rural areas. Like these real life horror stories, the reader is compelled to understand Bullseye's nature, why he does what he does, and here Frank tries to give us a glimpse into the pattern of his thinking. That in itself guarantees the reader to keep turning the page.

But that's not what's most impressive about the storytelling. By viewing everything merely from Bullseye's point of view, Matt is rendered utterly passive and seemingly emotionless. In their artwork, Frank and Klaus present a very inexpressive lawyer who, in scenes that should be filled with grief and emotion, such as when Matt and Foggy visit Elektra's body in the morgue, is rendered mute and monotone. It's a very strange thing to do and risks alienating the readership as they are not given the opportunity (in this issue at least) to empathise with Matt.

And because we're seeing everything from Bullseye's unsympathetic viewpoint, this also makes Elektra's death scene and what follows extraordinary. For an event so catastrophic, so monumental for our hero, it's bizarre that the brutal battle between the two assassins takes place, not at the book's denouement, but halfway through. Elektra is killed. Then life goes on. Because Bullseye has no feelings for her the story cannot dwell on the emotional impact of the death. Instead, the scene just changes to where Bullseye next turns up. He doesn't give a damn, after all.

But that death scene. Oh, that battle so breathlessly displayed. Let us take time to dwell upon it a moment. Bullseye's fatal blow is one delivered in a panel so brilliant (and let's face it, so disturbing) that it recently came third in a list of Marvel's best panels ever. I've written about this before and you probably know exactly what I'm talking about (there's a great homage to it on the cover of New Avengers 31, if you want to check that out). However, there's some frankly astonishing panels leading up to this moment and then following it. Let's talk about those.

Firstly, there's a truly horrific moment (which is reproduced in the Daredevil film) where Bullseye snags his snare by unleashing his Ace of Spades right into Elektra's jugular vein. It's pretty nasty and stuns the reader. This is followed by what one can only describe as an utterly sadistic little quip from the grinning Bullseye, who tells his suffering foe, "And now for my next trick..." This makes what follows all the more sickening, the reader aware of the enjoyment and enthusiasm Bullseye is achieving for his kill.

Following this, for one brief page, Frank gives the reader a tiny piece of respite. We follow the fatally wounded Elektra as she crawls away from her psychotic murdered and falls onto the steps outside Matt's brownstone. There's only one word on this page, a fragile "Matt," gasped by Elektra as she begins to slip away - as such, it's strangely reminiscent about the way stories are told in today's comic books, without the florid explanation of text box after text box. Back in 1982, this was more unusual and the wordlessness is because we don't have the story's narrator present to give commentary. In the midst of Bullseye's relentless dispassion, this one page is a beacon and is one of my favourite sequences in the entire DD canon.

As stated above, this is not the end of the story. Far from it. Instead of being given the opportunity to mourn the death of one of the most extraordianry comic book characters of the day, the reader is led straight back into Bullseye's egocentric world - he's more interested in trying to suss out if his hunch that Matt Murdock is Daredevil is correct and bantering with the Kingpin about how ace he is. It wouldn't surprise me if this led readers at the time into feeling very angry about why we were bothering with this nutcase, gaining access into his world, when all we want to do is give Matt our deepest sympathy.

But towards the end, there is a chink that reveals that Matt's strong moral resolve is severely compromised by what has gone on before in this issue. In a scene deliberately recalling Daredevil's decision to rescue Bullseye 12 issues back, DD finishes in a similar position with the psycho. This time, he's not so charitable (and, hey, who can blame him?). All we're missing is Lt Nick Manolis with a loudhailer, bellowing "I told you so!"

There's so much more I could say - Frank Castle being the unintentional tipping point that sends Bullseye on his murderous way; a jail break that must have been a later influence on Oliver Stone's 'Natural Born Killers'; Elektra's moment of humanity when she spares Foggy's life but this has been a pretty long review already. It's a truly remarkable issue.

One caveat in retrospect. It could be argued that the whole story is probably undermined somewhat by Elektra's later resurrection. In fact, reading this and the preceding 12 issues makes the 21st century reader regret somewhat the decision to revive her - she's captured so perfectly in this story and, whilst there have been some other good stories featuring the Greek assassin (I particularly recommend Greg Rucka's 'Introspect/Everything Old Is New Again' graphic novels), one cannot help feel that Marvel made the wrong call bringing her back. But we shouldn't be surprised they did - unlike DC, they like a truly iconic and dynamic female hero and perhaps they felt Elektra could fill that gap. Unfortunately, what works best about her is her unknowability, her sense of having deconstructed her own self following her father's death and that means that it's very hard for her to be a central figure in her own right without watering down who she intrinsically is.

And, after all that, a lighter and more frivolous note...

Gratuitous Panel of the Month

Phwoarrr, nice ass, Matt!

Cast

Daredevil/Matt Murdock

Foggy Nelson

Kingpin/Wilson Fisk

Elektra Natchios

Turk Barrett

Bullseye

The Punisher/Frank Castle

Grotto

Eric Slaughter

Sweaty Tex

Tom Snyde

Harry

Rating: 10 out of 10