Marvel's The Punisher

Despite its name and Bernthal’s intense performance, The Punisher is about more than just its ruthless antihero, and proves much more incisive than it may initially seem to be. ... Even when its stylized viciousness is undercut by real-world tragedy, The Punisher, like Marvel’s very best Netflix series, gives its title character a bloody good introduction.

It’s meditative but not self-flagellating; brutal but not a slog. It remains to be seen how it will stack up to the Defenders and their individual outings, but at the very least The Punisher could nab the title of first stand-alone property in all of the MCU, TV or film.

For a show which seemed, given the timing of its launch, to be so controversial, its most controversial element is its lack of controversy. Frank Castle does some bad things, but nothing as bad as what happens in America on a regular basis. As a narrative about veterans trying to find their place in the world, The Punisher has something to say. But it could have been so much shorter, and its placement in the Marvel universe feels tangential at best.

Deeply melancholic, The Punisher is more of a procedural than fans might expect, though one colored by sporadic bursts of the kind of over-the-top violence not likely to spill onto an episode of Law & Order. That being said, it does feel like a tone befitting someone as inherently bleak as Frank Castle.

As usual, the production is immaculate, and Bernthal--who never disappoints--is his usual self. You may, however, wish (I did) that his Punisher wasn’t such a humorless, unmitigated jerk.

All too often it’s a plodding slog. Bernthal’s performance somehow finds energy in Frank’s pain. ... Lightfoot’s breadth of storytelling is gratifying--he wants to do more than give the cultural landscape another killing machine to idolize. It makes The Punisher less uncomfortable to watch than it could be amid so many outbreaks of extreme gun violence. But it isn’t an easy ride.

The tropes of post-traumatic stress and recovery mesh with the topical elements of Mr. Lightfoot’s story, which are presented with more polish than nuance. ... The action picks up as the season progresses, but The Punisher never quite gets in touch with the visceral roots of its material.

It’s a testament to the ambition of The Punisher that the show’s creator, Steve Lightfoot, does not shy away from the isolationism and inner torment that veterans live with on a daily basis. ... When the series moves away from this stuff, however, the show ranges from fascinating to bland to ridiculous.

But set aside the occasional bullet-ballet flourishes and the whiff of government paranoia, and you’re left with something that feels like a melancholy riff on some CBSy procedural like Seal Team. Which isn’t bad. But it ain’t frickin’ good.

The show is well-written and Jon Bernthal ("The Walking Dead") is fantastic as Castle, the Afghanistan war veteran turned vigilante. ... But the story itself isn't dynamic enough to punch through all the cultural baggage this show is unfairly (or as some believe, justifiably) saddled with. It doesn't help that the burly character's superpower isn't a superpower at all. It's old-fashioned rage, coupled with special ops training.

Better too rich than too thin, to be sure, but “The Punisher” casts its net so wide that almost none of these stories get a fair shake. When they do, it’s usually the acting that closes the gap — Woll and Bernthal are so good together that it almost doesn’t matter that their scenes get snapped out quickly — but it’s hard to escape the feeling that, in giving us all that story, “The Punisher” doesn’t have much time for substance. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

It’s a dank, depressing series made on too little money that could have been vastly improved by cutting the episode order by at least a third. At 13 hours, you’ll feel as if you’re the one being punished for something.

Bernthal’s charismatic performance adequately sells The Punisher as an action piece, which speaks to the depth of his talent more than a person might consider. ... A love for skull-pounding action flicks should be a prerequisite for enjoying The Punisher, but even those who count ourselves in that group may find it tests our limits in the same way any hero who solves problems strictly by punching through them eventually does.

The Punisher isn’t nearly as pretentious as Hannibal was, but it’s certainly as deliberately paced. The violence of the show is up-close and brutal. ... The show would be too dull without its action scenes, but when those arrive, your first instinct may be to cover your eyes.

It’s a slow, monotonous story without a clear antagonist, and Frank is a grim, one-note character who works better as a supporting player than a lead. Amber Rose Revah brings some liveliness as a potentially sympathetic Homeland Security agent, but she barely interacts with Frank in the first six episodes.

The more The Punisher tries to humanize and deepen Frank by having him work through his pain--and by juxtaposing his struggles with those of other veterans, none of whom feel central to Frank’s quest--the more unpersuasive this series becomes. It seems to want to be both The Best Years of Our Lives and Death Wish IV: The Crackdown, an ambition that’s not honest.

The Punisher has moments of excitement, moments of bracing violence and a well-cast star at the center. It's also tedious for long stretches, and when it comes to plot details, astoundingly forgettable. The gun stuff is just an unpleasant capper.

The Punisher feints at asking bigger questions--about whether you can trust authority, how soldiers handle reentry into the civilian population, how people deal with trauma--but never really answers them, and ultimately returns to a more conventional narrative of a haunted man violently righting wrongs. It may seem like The Punisher wants to live in gray areas, but it ends up lamely sticking to black and white.