Years ago, a friend gave me a copy of the first issue of Alias, a comic he assured me I would like very, very much. It centred on Jessica Jones, a hard-drinking, costumed superhero-turned-private-investigator in New York, working through her cases and her issues. And I loved it. Fast-forward to last month, when Netflix and Marvel brought it to the screen, and I fell in love all over again.
Have you watched Jessica Jones? You should.
Let’s start with the perfect casting. Krysten Ritter (star of the much-missed Don’t Trust The B…) plays the super-strong title character, a bracing mix of abrasive, irritable, funny and disappointed. Jessica’s bolshiness is swoonworthy. “I don’t flirt,” she says in episode one. “I just say what I want.” Jones’ sometime paramour, the unbreakable Luke Cage, is played by Mike Colter, who is handsome enough to make doves cry. David Tennant sheds his sweetness to play terrifying villain Kilgrave.
The rest of the cast is smartly drawn, with a crucial emphasis on humanity, making for a refreshingly grounded superhero show. The takeaway is: we are people first, enhanced or broken by our strengths and weaknesses – the powers are secondary. Another plus? The women are written well, which may not sound much of a compliment, but in the current television climate, it is. The show’s portrayal of trauma and PTSD is nuanced. JJ the person is a trier, and the show is, too.
So here’s a tip: this Boxing Day, when family fatigue sets in, turn on your laptop and give Jessica Jones a go. It’s the realistically bleak TV show you didn’t know you needed.
