Behold: Marvel Comics' blind superhero! Splashed in the face by "biohazard" material, a tough young boy takes the horrifying poisonous gloopy waste full in the eyeballs and his gorgeously handsome chops are unharmed. As Harry Hill would say: what are the chances, eh? He grows up to be Ben Affleck, an idealistic "pro bono" lawyer - lawyers in Hollywood films adore that solemn classicism - with regulation blind person's mussed hair and realistically skew-whiff tie. But he finds that his blindness has been overcompensated by supernatural radar-like hearing and Hannibal Lecter's ability to divine a beautiful woman's scent. He is, in fact, differently abled.
His name? Matt Murdock, well nigh perfect for the hero of a Fox movie! He is also Daredevil, a superhero stalking the billion-footed city by night, righting wrongs. This is actually very enjoyable stuff, far funnier and gutsier than last summer's wimpish Spider-Man, though unlike that film, it does not address a subject that disturbed me when I read Marvel comics at school and disturbs me now. That funky and not at all gay red leather costume with the choice of masks. Who designed it? Who fitted it? When does he change into it?
Daredevil's main enemy is Bullseye, played by bad boy Colin Farrell, a swaggering Irish villain shown dissing some contemptible limey asshole in a pub, and then roaring off to the Big Apple to the accompaniment of a very bizarre pseudo-Irish rap with the chorus "Top o' tha' mornin' to ya". Unconvincing touches aside, it's exhilarating stuff showing the kind of darkness Tim Burton once shed on the Batman legend.