Alert: *Spoilers Ahead*
Barely three episodes in, it becomes really hard to defend The Defenders, Marvel’s latest, highly anticipated series for Netflix. The action was patchy, the four leads looked out of place, and somehow flavourless. Here’s an analogy that comes to mind:
Pop Quiz: What happens when you mix bloody scarlet, bruised purple, impenetrable black and smouldering gold?
Answer: You get dull brown. The colour of a mouldy wall on a New York alleyway at night.
Why, Marvel? Why this sudden love for the hoary HR concept of parity? Why So much screen time for Iron Fist? Why this gushing over New York? Why the giant fossil? Why would you bring Bakuto back? Why did you make Sigourney Weaver feel so tired? Sigh. A fan runs out of air after a while.
It was supposed to be the small screen event of the year. The blending of four (okay, three. Iron Fist was rusty) superb story arcs featuring action, attitude, incredible music and edge-of-the-seat plot. The result, alas, made eight episodes seem a bit too long. It wasn’t entirely unexpected.
It all started off beautifully, way back in April 2015, when Daredevil first streamed into our phones. For those who came in late, Daredevil was blinded in a chemical accident, but his other senses and reflexes were incredibly enhanced. He is a lawyer by day, hero by night. Spectacular action choreography, a believable performance from Charlie Cox and one of the best villains ever on small screen – the Kingpin (played with menacing gusto by Vincent D’Onofrio). The second season, in 2016, was even sexier, with new characters Elektra, Punisher and Stick, brought in.
It was also in 2015 that Jessica Jones came on. She is a private detective with a past and an attitude like you’ve never seen. She’s got superhuman strength and can make insane leaps, but she doesn’t give a damn about them, or anything else. She loves whisky. The series took on refreshingly adult themes (same sex relationships, PTSD, addiction), and delivered in style. Helped along again, by an incredible villain in David Tennant’s Killgrave.
And in September 2016, we got Luke Cage, the third Defender in the series. He was black magic. A brother from the Bronx doesn’t go for spandex heroism. He doesn’t wear masks or fly around or indulge in karate chops. He punches your lights out, while giving you a lesson in African American history in front of a barber shop, with Rafael Saadiq playing in the boom box. Bulletproof skin, superhuman strength and a way with women, Luke Cage got it right where Hancock flopped.
The less one speaks of the Iron Fist – the youngest, most poorly planned series in The Defenders package – the better. Panned universally by viewers and critics alike, this final hero of the quartet brought a decidedly ham-fisted approach to plot and single-fistedly ruined the carefully built-up story arcs of the other series.
Daredevil, Luke Cage and Jessica Jones are all getting fresh new seasons next year. Even The Punisher, who appears and kicks serious butt in Daredevil season 2, will get his own series in 2018. Can’t wait.
If you think I’m recalling old series to stall and put off writing about a disappointing experience, clever you. You would be right. But back to business.
The plot of The Defenders takes off from where each series ended. Daredevil watched Elektra die on the rooftop, so he’s put his suit in a trunk and is practicing law full time. Luke Cage finishes his prison sentence and comes back into the arms of nurse Claire who, after exertions, declares, “You’ve got potential.” Jessica Jones has shut shop for now, and is drinking and avoiding people. She is herself. And Iron Fist is globetrotting with his girlfriend in search of ‘The Hand’, to destroy it, which is his destiny. Don’t even ask.
So, long story short, everybody converges in New York and discovers that they are on the same side, fighting the same enemy – the mysterious and ancient crime organization called ‘The Hand’, which is now run by Sigourney Weaver.
The role is a breeze for Weaver, who gets some nice scenes of banter with Scott Glenn and some of the defenders. Particularly nice when there are references to how ancient she is. But she is a bit underwritten, made to say “my child” too many times, and shown to be losing control of her organisation too often.
The effects of the damage done by Iron Fist to the Marvel TV verse continue. Concepts and plot point that seemed jaw-dropping in other series have been reduced to silliness. The hole in the middle of New York, which Daredevil and Elektra stumbled on, for instance.
Beneath all the soil, beneath all those episodes of build up, you get anticlimax.
In the individual series, the title track and animation were incredible (except Iron Fist). The Defenders’ title track isn’t bad at all, but like the blend of colours, all you’re left with is the beat of Daredevil with some Iron Fist grunge.
The action is great, but inconsistent. You don’t get ninjas to fight Luke Cage or Jessica Jones. It just looks awkward. Like Tarzan vs Jackie Chan. The four bounce talk off each other nicely. The conversation in the restaurant was well done. Just that when the fighting starts, they all look uncomfortable.
The only one who seemed herself was Jessica Jones, played by a wry, eye-rolling Kristen Ritter. That’s because being uncomfortable is part of her character. At one point she says, “I just want this to be done with.” I found it hard to disagree.
(Anand Venkateswaran is a communications professional who writes on film, TV, books and other available surfaces.)
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