SPOILER ALERT – The Punisher Season 1
Antihero: a central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes.
The popularity of the antihero is not a particularly new concept. Having a main character that is undeniably flawed has always been appealing. Think James Bond, Magneto, Jay Gatsby, or reflecting to Shakespeare’s time, Macbeth, Hamlet, or Othello. In more recent media there’s Deadpool, Rick Grimes, or Dexter Morgan. So, what are the features that make these characters so compelling?
To start, it’s worth noting that a markedly imperfect, morally ambiguous character is often a more two-dimensional one. There’s no doubt that audiences enjoy feeling like they can somehow relate to their characters, regardless of the less than realistic attributes of the cinematic world. Like the definition suggests, antiheroes are generally presented as “central” characters. This very centrality indicates that at least some of the time, if not most, the audience gets to look through the character’s lens or gain pivotal insights into their minds (think Death Note’s Light Yagami).
To further delve into this definition, it notes that the antihero “lacks conventional heroic attributes”. This brings to question: what is a conventional hero? The first thing that comes to mind is that the conventional hero often has a relatively unwavering moral compass, generally fixated on what is “right” and “wrong”. They save people in distress, and live by a firm code of never killing anyone in the process, despite using methods of violence to achieve their goals. There is an unmistakable sense of righteousness, and often a steadfast hope in their fellow man.
Antiheroes, however, are generally much more pessimistic about the world around them and the people in it. There is a pervasive sense of distrust of others, which commonly stems from a dark back-story. Which brings me to the main topic of my post: Frank Castle. Specifically, the Frank Castle from Marvel’s Netflix series The Punisher (2017).
Played by the ever-versatile Jon Bernthal, Castle is first introduced in Marvel Netflix’s Daredevil season two. His portrayal of the famously violent comic book character was such a success that his own series, The Punisher, was announced soon after. Castle’s story line between Daredevil and The Punisher transitions from the role of an antagonist, to Daredevil’s foil slash ally, to the antihero in his own series.
Castle, an ex-Marine, is first seen as a highly skilled killing machine in Daredevil, and his back-story is revealed soon after. Castle’s family was brutally murdered in a shootout in Central Park, soon after his return from Afghanistan. He feels entirely responsible for their deaths, since it was due to his part in dubious military actions in Afghanistan under corrupt command (ie. Operation Cerberus).
Castle, broken and having lost everything, begins in a rampage of revenge, piecing together the reasons behind the murder, and killing each of the criminals and people of authority associated with it. The two shows demonstrate the progression of Castle as a hell bent, vengeful, raging assassin who’s inconspicuousness levels him to criminal status in New York City, to slowly making allies with those who see the good in him. He very gradually starts to trust again, revealing to us a much softer, more caring, and surprisingly gentle side – with Micro, Karen Page, Curtis, Sarah Lieberman, her kids, and even Dinah Madani. He does not believe in “the system” as a means of doling out justice, and thus, he takes matters into his own hand. Perhaps, the term vigilante is more suitable for the brand of justice Frank Castle employs.
A vigilante is described as being “a member of a self-appointed group of citizens who undertake law enforcement in their community without legal authority, typically because the legal agencies are thought to be inadequate.” One cannot doubt that the show’s overlying criticism is all about inadequate legal agencies. Thus, Castle is highly, and rightfully, skeptical of legal authority because of the way he was wronged by those who employed him: his country.
The captivating thing about Castle, though, is that he never pretends to be a hero, never kills for the delusion or pretense of benefiting others. However, nor does he claim to be a defender of ordinary citizens, like the Green Arrow or other comic book vigilantes. He is always extremely forthright about his intentions to kill those in the name of revenge, or who are considered an immediate threat to his own life. Military past aside, the present Frank Castle does not kill innocents: he draws a line as to whom he kills (similar to the way Dexter Morgan or Light Yagami operate). And though he does kill, often and brutally, we also see the flip side of his actions.
Specifically, we witness his trauma. We observe the never-ending grief and guilt. Every day, he wakes up to a memory dream of his deceased wife, which quickly turns to a nightmare of her brutal death. We see this repeated, time and time again, until we as an audience know this sequence by heart. The psychological impact is manifested into Castle’s endless list of people to kill because seemingly, the lust for revenge will never stop, just as the resulting survivors guilt remains. As a result we see a relentless, borderline self-destructive inner struggle in Castle. While we may not excuse his actions, we can begin to understand his thought process. Whether a viewer feels disgust, sympathy, confusion, or a desire to see something good happen to him, we ultimately feel various conflicting feelings for Frank Castle.
While the show is undeniably violent, it does not condone violence. Sure, one may look at one of the expertly filmed fight sequences where Frank exacts revenge on yet another set of criminals and think “that’s badass”. However, we also see the aftermath, the death, pain and most importantly the cycle of both physical and emotional destruction of violence. Whatever catharsis Frank feels in the moment of his violence, killing does not make him feel better. But instead, the goal to exact revenge on those who took everything away from him becomes the driving factor of his will to exist. His friends and allies constantly question him as to whether his lifestyle is really achieving anything worthwhile. So where does that end, Frank? Karen tearfully asks him. When will he allow himself peace? Will he ever find peace?
Of course, we cannot give Frank a free pass on the topic of his relationship with violence. Frank admits that as a child, he wanted to hurt people, had the urges to do so. Beyond desensitization, he has expressed that in the past he enjoyed doing his job as a Marine more than being home with his family. He even gets roped into the sinister Operation Cerberus, never questioning his authority until it’s too late. Though this may be in part of The Punisher’s criticism and analysis of the effects of being in the military, as it delves deeply into the PTSD, financial crises, unemployment, and other issues.
Characters like Lewis Wilson, also a veteran, turns into a delusional, bomb-using, volatile terrorist. He tells Castle that he is a “fan” of his and that they are on the same side, to which Frank resolutely disagrees with. Rather than being a battle between good and evil, however, it seems like the show’s analysis of the psychological impact of warfare – both parties, though wildly different, are convinced that their version of justice is the right one, implying that justice as a concept is only as strong as one’s belief in it.
Moreover, the show is less about defining who is ‘good’ and who is ‘bad’. No character in The Punisher is purely good. There is clear corruption in the CIA, Homeland Security, the military, and Billy Russo’s security service Anvil. Essentially, those who are supposed to be the ”good” guys are the most corrupt. Frank, who is always honest of who he is despite the guilt or shame he might feel, despite the crimes he has committed, becomes the only one we can truly rely on because of his transparency that so many other characters in the show lack.
Frank Castle is the pivotal character that not only makes the audience, but the people in his fictional world, question everything they know about societal, legislative, and governmental authorities. Antiheroes often have a habit of bringing out the most profound of deep dark secrets to the surface, and Frank Castle in The Punisher is perhaps one of the best examples to do so.
~Z~
