I just finished binge-watching the Marvel/Netflix mini-series, The Defenders. I sat in bed the whole day, cuddled up with a hot water bottle (Facebook did that whole virtual celebration of spring thingy, but they are sooooo wrong), and watched all eight episodes at a go.
Now, I’ve never paid much mind to what other people think about the Marvel Cinematic Universe—some people think it’s all too vanilla and predictable—but I think it’s fantastic!
It’s wonderful writing, not because I like predictable plots yadah yadah (I really don’t care what people say about it)—the writing is wonderful because it captures my imagination.
And I’m pretty sure I’m not the anomaly, cause every single one of Marvel’s films and TV series in the last 10 years have had such huge success, both commercially and critically.
The reason why The Defenders managed to capture my attention for eight hours straight is because they took their time with plot and character development. There isn’t that Martha sh*t going on (as you can tell, I was severely underwhelmed by DC’s Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice); The Defenders was superbly well thought out in their pacing and plot, connecting dots, bulldozing predictability (as far as a superhero comic can go), and weaving a horrifically dirty, dangerous but real reality around it.
In short, it’s believable. The Defenders has the ability to capture its audience’s attention and imagination, because we can believe in it.
We can believe the personal horrors, trauma, crushed hopes and dreams that each of the characters faces. Everyday characters, but with not-so-everyday abilities. But we can see ourselves, and our friends and neighbours and strangers on the street, in these characters.
We may not all have Claire’s ability to save lives (but our nurses and doctors and paramedics do!), or Daredevil’s otherworldy senses, or Luke Cage’s unbreakable skin (etcetera etcetera, you know where I’m going)—but we can see ourselves in them. Ordinary people, turned extraordinary by circumstance, but still ordinary people with crazy issues. Jessica Jones and her inability to sustain human connection; Misty Knight’s dedication to her passion/job that sees her lose herself (I don’t wanna give away too much); Colleen Wing’s fear of abandonment—these are all real characters, believable characters in a believably violent world (I mean… let’s just take a moment to look around us and try to say our world isn’t violent). The Defenders‘s ability to enthral is its dedication to the writing and plotting—its dedication to its characters by taking the time to flesh them out in earlier character series, and by, really, simply good writing.
Peace out. I need some food.
Geraldine Stallard 