By Bruno Savill De Jong — It’s 1993. NCSA becomes one of the first web browsers, Ruth Bader Ginsberg is appointed to the Supreme Court, Federal enforcement enact the Waco siege, and the Maastricht Treaty that established the European Union came into effect. People are listening to “Dreamlover,” watching Jurassic Park and reading Daredevil.

Daredevil Comics - 1993
Written by D. G. Chichester
Illustrated Scott McDaniel (312-315, 317-325), Kevin Kobasic (316)
Inks by Bud LaRosa (312-317), Greg Adams (318), Hector Collazo (319, 321-325), Henry Candelario (319), Michael Avon Oeming (320, 324), Rich Rankin (322-323)
Colors by Max Scheele (312-315, 317-319, 322-325), Chris Matthys (316, 320-321)
Lettered by Bill Oakley (312-322, 324-325), Janice Chiang (323)

Frank Miller’s legacy is complicated, to put it generously, but his impact on Daredevil is undeniable. He rescued the book from cancellation, and restructured its core elements into an iconic, enduring saga. But even with contemporary acclaim, Miller’s legacy only steadily grew through the 1980s, or at least no one else knew how to handle it. Dennis O’Neil tried to revert Daredevil into familiar superhero territory after Miller left, and Ann Nocenti went off in her own idiosyncratic direction. It was really in the 1990s that the canonisation of Frank Miller began in earnest, which current Daredevil writer D.G. Chichester was both frustrated by, and contributed to.

See, Chichester's first proper Daredevil story-arc was “Last Rites,” a spiritual successor to Miller’s Born Again. And now Chichester’s new multi-part saga “Fall From Grace” picks at other loose threads from Miller’s run, to the extent Miller was publicly upset that Marvel had used his characters without his permission. He also claimed the artist, Scott McDaniel, was ripping off his art-style. Regardless of the age-old artistic debate of homage vs. stealing, Chichester was clearly indebted to Miller, yet he was also frustrated at how Marvel rarely promoted Daredevil unless Miller was involved. The impression he got from editorial was that “if Frank Miller isn’t writing this book, it’s not worth your attention.” (as he would be in the simultaneous 1993 ‘origin’ Daredevil: The Man Without Fear) Chichester somewhat represents the push-and-pull between idolising Miller’s increasingly iconic work, and wanting to create his own work.

Outside of the large, multi-part sagas that define his run, Chichester also seems interested in smaller anthological stories that show Daredevil as a protector of the common man. One has him investigate a pizzeria arson (a fairly routine case) where Matt Murdock tries to exonerate a suspected trauma-stricken woman through investigating the incident’s differing perspectives, Rashomon style. Chichester also reiterates his ‘day-in-the-life’ issue of Daredevil saving random citizens (“34 Hours” (Daredevil #304)) with one specifically related to subway crimes (“Fare Play” (Daredevil #316)). The public transport theme is so specific it becomes rather silly, but Chichester justifies it through narration of how “it’s easy to see an individual become forgotten among those kind of soulless numbers. Which is why a certain blind man keeps an eye out for the lost souls riding the mass transit.”

Daredevil thinks to himself “I refuse to accept the hopeless desolation that constantly threatens to overtake urban life.” Chichester reorients Daredevil as an empathetic hand to guide overwhelmed citizens, a Man Without Fear not only in acrobatics but in everyday conviction. This especially comes through when helping somebody infected by a new Mr Fear – a classic foe from Daredevil’s rogues gallery, albeit one who has gone through multiple iterations, this one actually the daughter of a Mr Fear introduced in Spider-Man instead – who hallucinates he is completely alone in the vast New York City.

“Urban desolation” and homelessness seem to be on Chichester’s mind, as characters often comment on the “homeless trash” populating the streets. During the subway issue, average commuters are more annoyed by the inconvenience of unhoused “bottom feeders” than extending charitable hands. This is potentially caused by Rudy Giuliani, who campaigned for mayoralty (and won) in 1993 with policies that would specifically harass the homeless. Although Chichester’s well-intentioned approach isn’t the most nuanced, as such people are often unhinged raving lunatics preaching about subterranean uprisings. Chichester also brings in the obscure character Tatterdemalion - whose power appears to be disintegrating clothes – as an evangelical preacher intoning nutty “gospels of poverty” and advocating “financial barrenness” so the world can cleanse itself.

Tatterdemalion is roped into the bizarre “Grease” two-parter, where various factions – gangster Pete London, Taskmaster, ‘The Wild Boys,’ and Stilt-Man (no seen in Daredevil since Frank Miller lampooned him in Daredevil #186) – all vie for control of a secret collection of black-market grease barrels. The story becomes a sly subversion of typical gangster MacGuffins, like The Maltese Falcon, as the villains all desperately search for disgusting restaurant grease. Although Chichester admits he incorporated it from a New York Newsday article on real-life ‘grease-wrangling.’ Still this is a knowingly ludicrous farce, the editors up-front admitting “we wanted to have some fun before we ruined DD’s life - AGAIN” and several panels feature Daredevil being exasperated by the increasing chaos occurring around him.

Ironically, the fun “Grease” storyline prefacing the “serious” life-destroying Fall From Grace one only highlights the similarities between the two. As before, Fall From Grace involves several factions falling over one another to reach a precious MacGuffin. While “Grease” was overstuffed and noisy (albeit intentionally), so too is Fall From Grace, making it frustrating to read across 5 parts. Fall From Grace was designed to be a 30th anniversary celebration of Daredevil (as the final issues would cross into 1994), but many of its faults stem from being too much of its own time.

Fall From Grace’s basic plot is this; back in 1963, a telepath Eddie Passim was involved in a black-market designer drug called the “About Face Virus,” which he hid in Chichester’s favourite place, the subway. This virus is able to genetically transform people according to their personal desires. Various groups try to track down this virus for their own ends, making Daredevil contend with Silver Sable, Hellspawn – a demonic Infinity War doppelgänger who, with his living-costume-and-oversized-tongue is essentially DD’s Venom – Venom himself, Morbius the Living Vampire and Snakeroot – the inner-circle of the Hand – and many more. The last ones want to resuscitate Elektra through the essence hidden inside Agent Garrett from the Elektra: Assassin miniseries.

As all of this is going on, Matt is haunted by sightings of Elektra. It’s eventually revealed her “good half” was successfully resurrected by him in Daredevil #190, and The Hand controls her “dark half” (named Erynys). Additionally, Ben Urich’s newspaper notes on Daredevil’s secret identity are discovered by a Daily Bugle intern, which she subsequently published in another newspaper. Although Matt manages to have the story discredited, he thinks how such public knowledge permanently alters his and his loved one’s safety – just as he and Karen Page were starting to reconcile – and ends Fall From Grace with faking the death of Matt Murdock. Those reading ahead in Daredevil will note striking similarities to a Brian Michael Bendis storyline, but those paying attention will remember Matt also faked his death back in 1969.

As this synopsis should show, Fall From Grace is a clunky mess, being totally overstuffed with characters and side-plots that rarely advance the needlessly convoluted story. Venom makes a quick cameo as he believes the About Face Virus will eradicate his specific weaknesses, but then quickly leaves the story once Daredevil talks him out of it. It results in this brash, lumpy pace where Daredevil is always fighting somebody but rarely gets anywhere. Daredevil even gets a new “armored” costumed mid-way through Fall From Grace – a lasting, tangible side-effect of the story – but he simply dons it during Daredevil #321 with miniscule build-up or thematic purpose.

The 90s was an era of big flashy changes in comics. The Death of Superman, The Clone Saga, Bane breaking Batman’s back; all of which were symptomatic of an industry that rewarded quick attention and rising speculators. Daredevil’s redesign (which isn’t awful in itself) falls under this, as does reintroducing Elektra into his life. This move was slightly controversial, as Miller claimed Marvel editor Ralph Macchio had promised him that she wouldn’t be used without his permission. Frank Miller is far from a sympathetic figure, but this does play into perennial debates of “creator rights” vs “work-for-hire” practises. More fundamentally, Elektra’s return loses its impact through being threaded into an entirely unrelated storyline, becoming another drop in this long and messy saga.

The semi-public controversy between Frank Miller and Fall From Grace also came from Scott McDaniel “copying” his art-style. At certain moments of Fall From Grace this is undeniable, as McDaniel’s art takes on the blocky talking-heads of The Dark Knight Returns or the chiaroscuro noir shading. Yet this is also McDaniel’s best artwork in a very uneven year, whose previous compositions were misshaped and splashy. McDaniel has discussed being at an “artistic cross-roads,” torn blockbuster heroic poses and imitating Miller’s more tight stylised pencils. This tension also comes through in Fall From Grace, which fluctuates between more stylised scenes and more typical 90s artwork, even though there are solid compositions amongst them.

Look, I really don’t like trashing old stories, and reading interviews on Fall From Grace has softened me on Chichester and McDaniel as creators who acknowledge their shortcomings while being proud of the work they did. But in such interviews, they also candidly admit trying to generate buzz for the title through unnecessary guest-stars and more cynical techniques. As a result, Fall From Grace serves too many masters, introducing many different threads that makes it lack a clear direction. Even taking on a new “Jack” identity (after faking Matt Murdock’s death) was recently done before by Ann Nocenti. Chichester clearly wants Daredevil to be something new and invigorating, but the important large-scale stories he tells seem to be too stuck in what’s come before.

Read classic Daredevil Comics!

Check out past installments from The Man Without Fear…By The Year!

Check out Bruno Savill De Jong’s last regular series, Gotham Central Case by Case!

Bruno Savill De Jong is a recent undergraduate of English and freelance writer on films and comics, living in London. His infrequent comics-blog is Panels are Windows and semi-frequent Twitter is BrunoSavillDeJo.