It’s been a bit of of a bumpy year for the MCU on streaming television. As Marvel’s film studio has largely subsumed its TV division, the episodic shows are now allowed to tie themselves more closely to the films that spawned them (as opposed to the Netflix series like Daredevil and Jessica Jones, which were ostensibly set in the MCU but often felt like they existed in an entirely different universe). Now all the MCU action is corralled on Disney Plus, and the results – while nominally exciting – have been something of a mixed bag.
Things started off well in January with WandaVision, a creative sendup of TV sitcoms through the ages, even if things reverted to a typical action extravaganza by season’s end. The quality grew rockier in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, a poorly-paced, heavy-handed allegorical tale that completely fell apart with its final episode. Loki dealt with some interesting topics, but had more than its share of lulls, and suggests a future for the MCU that’s less tempting than what’s come before. And What If…? inspired plenty of questions beyond its title, most of them variations on “Who Cares…?”
The final MCU show of 2021 has arrived, to a debut perhaps less auspicious than some of the others. Hawkeye, premiering this week on Disney Plus, finds Jeremy Renner reprising his role as the titular bow-twanging Avenger, with Hailee Steinfeld taking on the show’s title as her own superhero identity as well. The show has been heavily marketed for the holiday season – the first two episodes premiered right before Thanksgiving, and the remaining installments will drop weekly till Christmas.
Hawkeye is far from Marvel’s most ubiquitous superhero, despite being one of the original half-dozen Avengers in the MCU. But his new show benefits in part from its source material – specifically, to one little comic book that unexpectedly became one of the best superhero series of the past decade.
First, a bit of backstory. Hawkeye made his pop-culture debut in 1964, in the pages of Tales of Suspense #57. Originally conceived by Stan Lee and Don Heck as a villain, the character went toe-to-toe with Iron Man on several occasions, eventually partnering with femme fatale Black Widow, then a Soviet spy with plans to undermine the US government. (What do you expect, it was the ’60s.) Eventually, both baddies reformed and joined the Avengers, and Hawkeye began developing beyond his smart mouth and arrow-filled quiver. He revealed his real name – Clint Barton – flirted with an indifferent Scarlet Witch, and even temporarily took on a new identity as the size-changing Goliath. (The identity had initially been assumed by Ant-Man #1, Hank Pym.)
That last development (which proved largely cosmetic) was an early sign that Marvel did not quite know what to do with Hawkeye. He was an Avenger, but without superpowers or his own ongoing series. (Even Black Widow spent some time in the ’70s sharing top billing in Daredevil.) He was given his first limited series in 1983, which paired him with fellow second-stringer Mockingbird, and then moved to California for the spinoff book West Coast Avengers. During the next few decades, he starred in some more unsuccessful books (including a short-lived eponymous series in 2003), underwent some costume changes, and soon rebranded himself as the scimitar-wielding Ronin. Around this time, a second Hawkeye was introduced in the comics – a young woman named Kate Bishop, who initially took up the mantle on her own, but eventually received Clint’s blessing.
Like many Marvel characters, Hawkeye finally achieved wide recognition upon his debut in the MCU. Following a brief cameo in Thor, Jeremy Renner’s Clint made his proper debut in 2012’s The Avengers. Unfortunately, as with the comics, his character was not particularly well-served in that film, especially not when compared to his five costars; while Tony and Cap grappled with personal demons, Hawkeye spent much of the film as Loki’s unwilling pawn.
Still, the massive success of The Avengers finally convinced Marvel to give the green light to a new Hawkeye series. And it would serve him far better than any of the previous versions did.
Debuting in September 2012, Hawkeye was written by Matt Fraction and drawn by David Aja, who had previously worked on the acclaimed Immortal Iron Fist series. (Yes, people, there’s a good version of Iron Fist. Don’t believe everything you see on Netflix.) And their pitch asked a simple yet potent question: What does Hawkeye do when he’s not hanging out with the Avengers?
Turns out he’s got a small run-down apartment in Bed-Stuy, duking it out with street criminals and struggling to pay the rent. The first issue opens with him plummeting from a high-rise window, but most of the story which follows takes place at street level, as he clashes with a roughneck landlord and some Russian Mafia cronies, who wear bad tracksuits and refer to everyone they meet as “bro.” It was a far cry from the team-up book that Hawkeye had spun off from, and it pointed to some intriguing new destinations.
From the start, Fraction and Aja were careful to distinguish the series from the bigger and more polished series that Marvel was publishing at the time. Characters communicate in broken dialogue, with conversations jaggedly interspersed with Clint’s voiceover. Clint himself doesn’t much resemble a flashy hero; his face displays street-fight scars and a nose bandage for much of the first issue.
Narratively, Hawkeye represents a break from the typical form of the medium. Panels are smaller than a typical action-driven comic book (occasionally numbering as many as twenty per page), allowing for more subtle visual beats and interpersonal conversations. Pen-lines are thick and jagged, with colors mainly relegated to muted blues, greens, and tans. A plot-setting newspaper headline is stained with the ring of a coffee mug; background characters are often framed in silhouette.
Action, too, is rough and brutal; each punch is backed with understated power. Guns practically spit bullets, with flying ammunition drawn as sleek, thin lines of death. Clint and Kate are proficient with their bows and arrows as well, and aren’t as particular about holding back as some of their superpowered brethren. (One early issue has Kate taking out some murderous villains with some arrows to the eyes, effectively blinding them for life.) Most comic books allow you to witness the action; Hawkeye makes sure you feel it, in each panel and every page.
But for all the grunginess on display, the series’ shining achievement is its sense of humor. Simply put, Hawkeye is driven by comedy, wry and dry though it may be. The banter between Clint and Kate – taking on a teacher-and-student vibe, though the roles switch with telling frequency – gives both characters more personality than they ever had in the Avengers books. The story and art combine to create several throwaway jokes, both verbal and visual, many of which take a second reading to appreciate.
The marriage of Fraction and Aja’s sensibilities reached its apex with issue #11, a miniature masterpiece known as “Pizza Dog.” (Technically the title is “Pizza Is My Business,” but many fans refer to it “Pizza Dog” and I will follow their lead for clarity’s sake.) It’s a standalone issue, told completely from the point of view of Lucky, Clint and Kate’s pizza-loving dog, who gets caught up in a murder mystery of his own. The story is entirely told from the dog’s POV, and it showcases the ingenuity of the series better than any other issue.
Simply put, “Pizza Dog” is a story that could not be told in a non-comic book medium. Featuring a minimum of dialogue (Lucky seems to understand only about every third word or so from the humans around him), the story beggars to ask how a dog would see the world, replacing thought bubbles with signpost images and laying isolated panels over black-and-white backgrounds. It’s the sort of comic that requires two or three readings to fully absorb the story, right down to the saddening conclusion. The story, which won a 2013 Eisner Award for Best Single Issue, remains one of the greatest individual achievements in 21st-century comicdom.
As Hawkeye continued into its second year, Fraction and Aja took another bold step, splitting Clint and Kate to their separate ways. Stories continued to follow their solo adventures, interchanging perspectives with each issue. But the quality of the stories remained high, a testament to how well-developed the two leads had been up to this point.
The twenty-second and final issue of Hawkeye was released in 2015. Following this, the series was relaunched as All-New Hawkeye, by Jeff Lamire and Ramon Perez. Another Hawkeye series, centering exclusively on Kate, began in 2017, helmed by Kelly Thompson and Leonardo Romero. In 2020, Marvel introduced a new Clint-focused miniseries, Hawkeye: Freefall, from Mattew Rosenberg and Otto Schmidt. And just this week, to tie in with the new TV series, they debuted a new Hawkeye: Kate Bishop from Marieke Nijkamp and Enid Balam.
As with all comic books, nothing is forever, and the characters of Clint and Kate will continue to pass from one writer and artist and shiny new series to the next. That’s the nature of the business, which has relied on new readers and ever-changing creators for decades.
But even if the larger universe and constant reboots and relaunches give you caution, the 2012 Hawkeye series is well worth checking out. Fraction and Aja created something special in their little corner of the Marvel Universe. And with the DNA of their work embedded in a new show on Disney Plus, it’s the perfect time to check out one of the best comic books of the modern era.
Critically Touched 