Bluntly put, Man without Fear is Daredevil:Year One. When Frank Miller took over Daredevil in the late 70s, he changed the character forever, and took the blood-red brawler from near-anonymity to comic book stardom. He also injected enough back-story to necessitate further explanation. Man Without Fear does just this.
Man Without Fear makes so many changes in Daredevil’s history, it constitutes a virtual retelling. When Stan Lee first created DD in the 60s, he was a swashbuckling, devil-may-care (curse my pun-propensity) lawyer who began fighting crime as a law school student. Miller’s retelling in Man Without Fear adapts Matt Murdock’s past to make the Miller years (and post Miller years) flow more smoothly. Daredevil is not the happy-go-lucky crusader of the 60s. He’s the brooding, guilt-laden, intellectual Miller made his name writing about.
Frank Miller’s narrative voice is like the crack of thunder. He’s part Moses, part Mickey Spillaine, and the old testament sensibility he brings to the urban wilderness lends the modern city’s existential morass some purpose. At his best, Frank Miller’s style is as good as any noir writer, and better than most novelists you’ll find in a bookstore. For one, he’s not afraid to speak directly to the reader (sometimes a little too directly, in the language of sadism). He also knows how to craft a gripping plot under the dialogue and style that gild it. If Miller has one weakness, it’s his tendency to be so violent that story and style are lost in the screams of his characters. He veers this way frequently in his original creations, particularly
Sin
City. In this book, however, he’s tempered this tendency, and the result is Miller at his polished best.
John Romita Jr. tends to draw his people stocky and wide—so how does this style adapt to a tall, sinewy character like Daredevil? Surprisingly well. Romita Jr.’s raw talent and genius for layout spin Miller’s story into a comic book classic.
Matt Murdock, when out of costume, must be one of Marvel’s toughest characters to draw. He doesn’t wear every emotion on his face like Peter Parker. He doesn’t vacillate between cheerful and melancholy like Captain
America. He lacks any distinguishing facial features an artist can fall back on, like Wolverine’s trademark sideburns. Matt Murdock has to look subtle and intelligent, and if these attitudes are difficult to write, they’re even more difficult to draw. Romita Jr. does it all with aplomb. Matt Murdock’s steely determination, his constant battle with his emotions, all gets sketched in a style simple and rough enough to fit Miller’s writing style, but detailed enough to do justice to the character who fuels the creative team.
Christie Scheele, Man Without Fear’s colorist, is a brilliant interpreter of the grey-red world of concrete and blood Daredevil inhabits. Why is Frank Miller so gaga over Lynn Varley when he had someone as talented as Scheele to work with? (don’t quote me on that, I don’t know what Miller’s relationship is to Varley. Maybe she saved his life once.) The crimsons, greys, blacks and flesh-tones Scheele colors the noir-purgatory of DD’s
New York with is beyond effective; it’s an organic part of the story.
Worth the money? Abso-friggin-lutely. Even if you’re not a Marvel zombie like myself.
