1x01 Moment of Truth

All of the Netflix Marvel shows have had the problem that the lead is not the show’s most interesting character. Charlie Cox’s Daredevil is a big hunk of wonder bread at the center of a much more flavorful cast of characters. Krysten Ritter is a good actress, but took some time to settle into the role of Jessica Jones, and had to contend with the instant success of David Tenant’s Kilgrave. And here is Mike Colter’s Luke Cage, who is dropped into what seems like a very interesting world, but given a bunch of dry cool action hero lines that he delivers with all the charisma of a nice-looking tree.

And the result is that I’m way more excited and interested about everything in Luke Cage besides Luke Cage. Cottonmouth is a little stock as a character, but he’s interesting in the mob boss role that’s been so prominent in this corner of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Alfre Woodard’s councilwoman making deals with the mob to get civic works going is a particularly interesting angle. And Misty Knight, the undercover cop investigating the whole thing, adds an interesting wrinkle as well.

The way the series premiere, “Moment of Truth,” sets up the plot and the world of the show is also pretty deft. We see the pieces of the puzzle – the mob doing arms deals, the civic leader, the kids at the local barbershop, Luke’s night job, and the cops – and then suddenly we see how they’re all connected. The councilwoman gave Cottonmouth the funds to open his club, giving him a front to launder money to repay that investment, which requires the arms deal. Then, of course, things go south with the kids from the barbershop trying to take the money and run, which prompts the cops to investigate further. There’s also a mysterious benefactor whose sent his envoy, Shades, to look after Cottonmouth, who just so happens to be involved in Luke’s jailtime. Of course, Luke knows the kids from his job at the barbershop, and Cottonmouth from his job at the club. It’s all very clockwork, introducing everything nicely, stitching it together, and establishing a lot of places for the series to go in the next twelve episodes.

The show also has style out the wazoo. The way the standoff during the arms deal is shot and framed is excellent, with artistic shots of masked men getting blasted through windows and a great deal of visual poetry in such a grisly event. Similarly, there’s a, dare I say, Wes Anderson quality to the sequence where Cottonmouth beats up one of the barbershop boys for information. The lighting in the scene, and the way Cottonmouth is framed against the Biggie poster, creates a unique aesthetic that helps make the scene as memorable as the violent acts within it. We’re in a world of Fincher-esque dingy greens and grays here, as has been the standard for these shows, but there’s a lot going on visually and in the show’s editing, with interesting cuts between conversations at the club, or between a beautiful song and a violent breakdown.

Of course, we also get Luke as the reluctant warrior, a kind of dull motif but probably a necessary one. The idea that he’s still smarting from the death of his life, that he wants to be left alone to just live his life, is compelling in the abstract. The problem is that as viewers we know that we’re not going to get twelve episodes of Luke sweeping floors and washing dishes, so his reluctance to use his powers to help people seems like a perfunctory hurdles that, sure enough, he’s hopped over by the end of the episode.

More interesting is the idea that he’s not grateful for these powers, that they were imposed on him without his request or his consent. There’s shades of Tuskegee to that story, and while it’s hinted at here in the early going, I hope the show devotes more time to that angle. For now, Luke Cage has adopted the tack its predecessor series took – only parceling out a bit of the origin story in the early going, with the likely result that we’ll get more of it later.

But hey, at least we got one pretty cool scene of Luke being the rough and tumble hero we expect he’ll blossom into. The sequence where the guys from the protection rackets attempt to rough up Luke’s landlords at the Asian restaurant was superb. In particular, the image of the heavy’s fist cracking against Luke’s chin, and his subsequent casual beatdown of the rest of them fit perfectly to show him as not antagonistic, but someone who’ll stand his ground when innocent people are threatened. And the last goon begging off, saying he doesn’t even like his fallen compatriots, added some much appreciated levity to the situation.

That said, his “I got you” line is a bit much. There’s the sense that Luke is just too good, a problem he shares with Matt Murdoch. Heroes need to be good, but the whole “I can’t accept your money” “I won’t be one of your goons” “I’m not for hire” routine needs to be balanced with some meaningful flaws, flaws beyond “I’m just not ready for the dating scene” for it to work. If you go overboard with the nobility, the character ceases to feel human.

That’s already a problem with the less-than-charismatic Mike Colter being treated as a bastion of raw animal magnetism. It’s nice to see the show embracing some sexuality in an apologetic fashion (though the strip club scene was probably unnecessary), but despite his bodybuilder’s physique, it seems unlikely that a dry piece of toast like Luke would be so instantly irresistible to everyone. (But hey, maybe he has a dreaminess that overcomes his dullness that I’m just not the right guy to evaluate.)

There’s a number of intriguing elements to Luke Cage out of the gate. The world its operating in is self-assured, the wheels of the plot are nicely set in motion, and there’s a stylistic bent to the presentation that makes the show stand out even when the mute button is on. Hopefully that’s enough to overcome the less-than-thrilling guy at the center of everything.