One Wins... One Dies!

For those of you who would like to experience an interesting contemporary interpretation of Frank Miller's classic Daredevil stories from the early 1980s which featured the riveting character of Elektra, do treat yourselves to the second "season" of the Netflix production of "Daredevil," which introduces her on the small screen and brings her to stunning life (as played by French actress Élodie Yung). From there, her story continues in a follow-up Netflix series, "The Defenders," where both she and Daredevil fight to the end (and we're not talking about simply concluding the season). In the television series, as was the case in the comic, Elektra is very much her own woman--but the character in each medium stands in contrast to the other, to enough of a degree that her television persona will feel like you're watching a familiar yet fresh new version of her, which indeed you are.

It's the embrace of Miller's darker take on the character, and on Daredevil, which allows their transition to television to meet with the success that eluded them in cinema--for while the film stays more true to Miller's story, the TV series instead incorporates elements of it to build an entirely new sequence of story installments for both characters, a model that has served Marvel (and by extension, Disney) well in its film ventures. Yet like my experience with "Jessica Jones" and the character's handling in her comic series, Alias, I was curious to return to the comics and read the powerful story where Elektra met her death at the hands of Bullseye--a development that, like Elektra herself, was handled very differently in the two Netflix series.

The double-sized issue from 1982 stands nicely apart from its big-budget counterpart, as well as being an excellent example of comics storytelling that any Daredevil reader likely drank in from cover to cover. It also has the distinction of being almost entirely told from the perspective of Bullseye, former chief assassin of the Kingpin--an approach which, to my total surprise, worked, and for a whopping thirty-eight pages. You'd think that this kind of story would at some point need to include Matt Murdock's feelings and thoughts on the matter, since buyers were presumably plunking down $1.00 and some change to touch base with the hero, whose reaction to this murder would likely be at least as dramatic as the killing stroke itself.

But this is all Bullseye's show, beginning with his current incarceration at Daredevil's hands. But the root of the grudge Bullseye carries for DD isn't at all what you might have expected.

To owe someone a debt for saving your life is a hell of a reason for targeting them for death, one that only an unhinged mind would formulate. It makes Bullseye no less dangerous--but it's certainly a surprising premise to base an entire story on, and one of such length at that. Revenge is one thing, but obsession over what most of us would consider a humane act is something that a reader would have to struggle to reconcile, even considering the fact that Bullseye has his own way of looking at the world. Fortunately, Miller adds to Bullseye's incentive to act when he crosses paths with a recently arrived fellow inmate, the Punisher, who tells him that the Kingpin won't be breaking him out of prison anytime soon, since he's already replaced Bullseye with another assassin.

Now properly motivated to take care of his business, there's the small matter of Bullseye's imprisonment to overcome--set in motion in part by Harry, a sadistic guard who at times provides Bullseye with medication to treat splitting headaches that he's still experiencing from when he was afflicted with a brain tumor. To Bullseye, however, the pain he suffers is one more thing to chalk up to Daredevil's actions.

Harry is also present when Bullseye agrees to be interviewed by a television talk show host, a scene that has "opportunity" written all over it. Points to the host, "Tom Snyde," for managing to convince the warden to have Bullseye suited up in his costume for the interview, which would normally be out of the question; aside from a security standpoint (even the most diligent searches have been known to fail--just ask the Wizard), allowing Bullseye to wear his criminal garb can only set back his rehabilitation, which we've seen the warden go out of her way to facilitate. For what it's worth to Snyde, however, it will certainly help to make this particular show a ratings bonanza for his network, and an unforgettable one for his viewers.

From there, Bullseye makes a spectacular getaway in a police helicopter meant to end his attempt to escape but only provides the means to accommodate it. Also, needless to say, Bullseye doesn't forget to deliver on his promise to Harry before departing.

Now at large in New York, Bullseye looks up a hideout of a man known as Slaughter, who heads a freelance assassination operation and, with a little incentive, provides Bullseye with the name of the Kingpin's new chief assassin, whom Bullseye has made the elimination of his top priority:  none other than Elektra, who currently is assigned to kill Franklin Nelson, Murdock's friend. Bullseye prepping himself and doing his homework before moving in is only natural for a man in his profession--but while he doesn't turn up anything that he feels warrants serious consideration, it's Miller's way of planting a seed which will take root.

With Nelson being the bait that will lead him to Elektra, Bullseye tails him, and, sure enough, Elektra makes her move. Nelson gets a reprieve with what turns out to be a few well-chosen words of recognition--but Elektra can expect no such generosity from the one who stalks her.

What follows is a very minimal play-by-play of their struggle, courtesy of Bullseye, with Miller appearing to realize that Bullseye's confidence here can only add to the scenes of movement that Miller provides over four full pages of to detail this fight. Yet how strange to see no dialog whatsoever from Elektra, who isn't exactly lacking in confidence herself--is she typically mute in her fights? Again, however, Miller continues to maintain the focus on Bullseye as this story's driving force, though in this case it almost telegraphs the fight's outcome.

As the struggle reaches its climax, it's difficult to interpret Elektra's final ploy here with her head scarf. The safe assumption seems to be that she's planning to strangle Bullseye--yet unless her level of strength is such that she can execute such a move sufficiently so that Bullseye is unable to counter it, it simply takes too much time to employ to give her the edge. And so it proves to be a fatal miscalculation--emphasis on "fatal."

I was never able to buy a playing card used as a projectile by Gambit--and unless the card used here has been weighted in some fashion, I simply can't buy it from Bullseye, either. Neither man has super-strength that I'm aware of; and while I can flip an ace of spades across the room as well as anyone, I couldn't inflict injury on anyone with that card even if I wanted to, unless I flung it at extremely close range and it happened to hit an orifice (e.g., an eye). Bulleye's flawless aim is his primary ability, true--but so what? I can't bring myself to Google any instances of someone bleeding out like Elektra from the impact of a playing card, mainly because it feels too ridiculous to try.

Regardless, as we can see, there's no mistaking the deadly effect of Bullseye's second strike--and as far as his pending payback to Daredevil, what happens next is a deduction that virtually falls into his lap, thanks to a little careful observation after the fact.

Bullseye's good fortune stops there, however--even though he makes the right move in going straight to the Kingpin with his discovery, an act that seems sure to guarantee that his former position will be offered to him again. Given what Bullseye's investigation on Murdock has uncovered, it's a little surprising that the Kingpin isn't taking those details more seriously, facts which for you and I add up perfectly. But the Kingpin knows who he's dealing with--and he also knows that there's a way that Bullseye can prove what he claims, one which would also prove that he deserves to be brought back into the fold.

Which brings Bullseye full circle, or so it appears: targeting Daredevil, as he'd originally intended. But in the interim, Murdock has prepared for Bullseye's arrival--and with the use of a dummy, he convinces Bullseye that he was set up for Daredevil to ambush, and that he and Murdock are not one and the same. Bullseye is furious at the deception--yet he swiftly regains momentum and lures DD outside to face him, once and for all.

Once more, Miller lays out the fight in similar panels--and once more, Bullseye is the only one who is providing the narrative. But there is conspicuously less of it, with the art this time assuming the burden of holding the reader's interest.

And in this struggle's climax, Miller returns us to Bullseye as we found him. Left at a disadvantage, he seems on the verge of being forced once more to be obligated to Daredevil for saving his life; but due to his own efforts to resume the attack, he inadvertently ensures that DD this time chooses a different course of action entirely.

Landing in the ICU, his threat apparently finished for good, Bullseye's musings on both Daredevil and Murdock show that Miller's symmetry for the character is now complete. It almost seems appropriate that Bullseye fails to realize that the pain he wishes he could have inflicted on both men has indeed been dispensed; otherwise, this "waiting game" that Miller has established as a perpetual theme for him would now be absent, and Bullseye would now be lying immobile, broken but content in the knowledge that payback has been delivered in full. Instead, it remains to be seen how both Daredevil and Bullseye will emerge from this conflict. Assuming they ever do.

Daredevil #181 Script and Pencils: Frank Miller Inks: Klaus Janson Letterer: Joe Rosen