Fog by Denny O'Neill and David Mazzucchelli
One Sentence Overview: Matt's response to Heather's cry for help leads to his being unable to intervene in a fatal case of domestic violence
Denny's last issue was offbeat and a little silly. So it's quite something to see him follow that up with a truly wonderfully dark landmark storyline. 'Fog' is very well titled. There may be a literal fog clogging up the city but what is more pertinent is the metaphorical blurring that is occuring in the minds of the lead characters - Matt and Heather.
Yes, Heather Glenn is back - though not for long - and she's in a bad, bad way. In a stunning opening panel by David Mazzucchelli (who is seriously on song this issue), Heather is sprawled out, twisted round, desperate looking and almost dwarfed by the upsided wine glass in the foreground.
We haven't seen her for a while and we can only guess what's been going on since she and Matt split up. Whatever's been going down (and it mostly seems to involve a catalogue of men and serious boozing), it's taken Heather to a dark and lonely place. In one way, she's a long way from the zany, ditzy character who first and relentlessly flirted with Matt seconds after she met him. In another, her codependent need for Matt - a need that has left her vulnerable to him and even led to her being treated really quite badly for him - has never really disappeared. In a few panels, Denny shows us a woman on the verge of a breakdown.
But Matt lacks sympathy. Heather has manipulated his coming to her - saying she is trouble, her life at risk - and, in a common, tragic literary trick, Matt attending to her needs means another woman dies elsewhere. The irony is, of course, that Heather's life really is at risk and Matt was unable to sense that. I'm sometimes a little harsh on Matt's emotional intelligence but I'm not sure one can blame him for being angry with Heather here.
Daredevil disappears into the fog and tracks down the man who has just killed his partner. Not much to say about this other than that it showcases another terrific atmospheric panel of the guilty party, Manny, painted as if from ground level - more gorgeous stuff from David.
The next day, Heather's phoned Nelson & Murdock eight times, eventually prompting Foggy to go visit her. There he calls Matt, who Foggy persuades to come over and is presented with the most awful of sights.
I read quite a few of these issues back in the 80s though I must confess not a lot sticks in my memory. In fact, up until I reached this page, I had forgotten I had read this number. But this is a panel that lodges itself in the memory like an arrow through the brain. And the following close up of Matt is just as brilliant - simple, effective, a study in horror.
I'm not sure how many comics dealt with suicides by a member of the supporting cast at this time in comic book history. Deaths were usually more honourable, being despatched by a vile villain rather than submitting to their own hand. Isn't that how these things should be? Despite all that has occurred previously, this is a true shock. Daredevil the hero who stands up to Kingpin and the underworld cannot prevent an ex-girlfriend from wrapping a cord around her neck. He trembles at his powerlessness.
And we're only halfway through the book. The truth is that there's really not much more to add. At first it feels like we're drifting into the same territory as DD 182, with Matt in denial that Heather's actually killed herself. Then there's a bit of plotting involving some Italian thieves and Daredevil pretending to breathe like a rodent (no, really, he does). It's okay but can't deliver the brutal punch to the gut those first ten pages deliver. It's a bold piece of writing, demonstrating that Denny's in the middle of a purple patch of storytelling that is close to Frank Miller at his best.
Cast
Daredevil/Matt Murdock
Foggy Nelson
Heather Glenn
Becky Blake
Turk Barrett
Grotto
Silvio Gulio
Manny
Doris
Rating: 9 out of 10

And in one scene where Matt is namechecked as 'John' (Wayne, anyone?), he stands in the doorway of a down at heel hotel like the Duke at the end of the Searchers. 
This is no Kingpin, just a self-important big fish in a small town, trying to keep on top of the downtrodden souls around him. By no rights should he be a threat to any superhero (the cover misrepresents him in as an equal to DD which he doesn't come close to being) and yet his story is one which rings true. Again, the story owes a lot to High Plains Drifter (though if you really want to see a more recent film about small town criminals being represented as a bunch of pathetic losers, check out Shane Meadows' Dead Man's Shoes, which covers very similar territory).

But, wait, I'm making the story sound terrible. And it really isn't. The ridiculous nature of this appears to be deliberate homage to the golden days of Stan Lee's run on the book (later DD turns up at a big gothic mansion that was par for the course in Stan's run) and it's really rather fun.
You can hear the Marvel staff room all breathe a sigh of relief...

It's indecent, I tell ya.
Matt can't cope with these emotional gushes and actually deals with his own self pity in a similar way as Foggy deals with his - namely distraction. Except his is by slipping on a tight red cossie and swinging around Hell's Kitchen.

Intriguingly, Denny immediately follows this with a little dissonance on Glori's part by adding that she doesn't "have the stomach" for the bombing and instead only helps organise travel arrangements... presumably for those with the stomach for the bombing. There's a big moral quandry being presented here - how responsible is Glorianna for what may be regarding as terrorist activity? Of course, on a larger scale, the same question is often posed on nation states who go to war against others - how responsible are the everyday citizens who vote for the leaders who partake in such actions? Still, I think Glorianna does find it difficult to distance herself, in a way that might put her heart at ease, from the potential terrorist activities with whcih she could be closely identified. Later, Daredevil is troubled by notion of getting involved with someone who has an unclear sense of "what is right and wrong", comparing Ms O'Breen witih Elektra (which is quite a contrast, really - okay, Glori might be indirectly linked to bombings but at least she is dispassionately scything down underlings with her sai for the heck of it).
Of course, this is another example of Matt's moral superiority in such matters and shows him once again being 'blind', if you'll excuse the pun, to the ways in which he sometimes uses violence in order to protect. Heh, sadly none of this is straight forward, folks.
That's the way to deal with that kind of think, Ms Blake!





It seems quite an obscure taste and, perhaps, reflects Denny's own musical tastes. Me, I'd rather be with Glori, especially if the Pogues were on (or Ash. Or the Divine Comedy. Or the wonderful Gemma Hayes. Though I'd give it a steer if it was U2 or Snow Patrol). Though when the Irish pub turns up, it's not the usual scene of stereotypical debauchery and drunken joy but a scene of misery.
In other words, an Irish pub in New York that actually resembles an Irish pub.
Indeed Daredevil calls him a 'British Chauvanist' here and really holds him up to ridicule (he ends up with a Condolences wreath around his neck). Which I guess is not surprising given his sympathies to the Irish characters elsewhere.

Both Matts, Hawk and Murdock, have odd moments of "now why did I think that?" which are meant to be mysterious but seem a little clunky.
I struggled with whether the whole mystical thing was just wrong for DD, but on the other hand, anything involving the Hand is kind of levitating in the same territory.
It is not, for example, particularly surprising that Matt, initially in the employ of the rich white man, puts ethics before the Nelson Murdock bank balance to put things right (as if our Matt would do anything else, eh?).