Marvel’s Jessica Jones Christian Review
When you think “superhero,” what comes to mind? Bright colors, flashy fights, maybe a moral compass that spins true north? That’s not Jessica Jones. This show doesn’t come to save the day in a spandex suit with a blinding grin. Instead, it knocks back a couple of hard drinks, flicks the cigarette ash off its boots, and scowls through the shadows of Hell’s Kitchen. There’s grit here — the kind that sticks under your fingernails and clings to your skin long after the credits roll.
For those unacquainted, Jessica Jones isn’t your typical savior of the city. There’s no grand mission, no “with great power comes great responsibility” rhetoric. She doesn’t want to save the world — she’s just trying to survive it. Played with bruised intensity by Krysten Ritter, Jessica is a private investigator whose abilities might make her bulletproof, but emotionally, she’s anything but invincible. Her story is tangled in trauma and littered with scars — it’s a far cry from the shiny, polished arcs of more traditional heroes. If Marvel’s other shows are pop songs, then Jessica Jones is a gritty blues track, soaked in whiskey and haunted by painful memories.
An Unconventional Hero: Jessica Jones’ Battle with Her Past
From the first scene, it’s clear that Jessica is different. She’s tough, cynical, and keeps people at arm’s length. Her New York is dirty, drenched in rain and neon glow, populated by lowlifes and the lost — and she fits right in. She’s the kind of protagonist who doesn’t ask to be liked, who doesn’t even ask for empathy. But slowly, you start to see the cracks in her armor. Jessica might have super strength, but internally, she’s shattered.
And the source of her brokenness? Kilgrave. Just the name alone sends shivers down Jessica’s spine — and with good reason. This villain, played chillingly by David Tennant, isn’t your typical power-hungry megalomaniac. He’s more like a twisted puppeteer, pulling the strings on people’s minds, warping their will, robbing them of their autonomy. His power is terrifying not because it’s loud or showy, but because it’s so insidiously invasive. He doesn’t just hurt people; he invades them, he redefines them, he makes them do things and believe things that go against everything they are.
Jessica’s struggle isn’t just about stopping Kilgrave. It’s about confronting the ghost of her own past — the time she spent under his control, the horrors she committed at his command. Kilgrave’s hold over her wasn’t just physical; it was psychological, spiritual even. He left a darkness inside her that she’s still trying to claw her way out of. For a Christian viewer, there’s something deeply unsettling — yet familiar — in this struggle. Sin, too, has a way of embedding itself deep in our souls, whispering lies that twist and distort. It’s a sobering reminder that sometimes, the greatest battles aren’t the ones we fight with our fists, but the ones that rage inside our own minds.
Kilgrave: A Villain Unlike Any Other
There’s a particular horror to Kilgrave that’s hard to articulate. He’s not a monster in a traditional sense — there’s no fangs, no claws, no grand schemes for world domination. Instead, he’s terrifying because his power is so subtle, so total. He can compel anyone to do anything, from the mundane to the unspeakable, just by speaking a word. His victims aren’t just harmed — they’re hollowed out, reduced to puppets dancing on his strings. The Bible warns us to guard our hearts, to resist the devil’s schemes (Ephesians 6:11), but what do you do when the enemy speaks directly into your soul, leaving you powerless to resist?
Jessica’s showdown with Kilgrave is a battle for her soul, for her sense of self. It’s a fight to reclaim her identity, to prove to herself — more than to anyone else — that she’s not just a victim. She’s more than what he tried to make her. The parallels to spiritual warfare are hard to ignore. Kilgrave’s control is like sin itself, seeping into every thought and action, whispering that you’ll never be free, that you’re not strong enough to break its grip. Jessica’s struggle, messy and imperfect as it is, speaks to anyone who’s ever felt trapped in their own mind, fighting to reclaim a sense of agency.
Noir and Nuance: The Show’s Style and Substance
But it’s not just the themes that make Jessica Jones compelling — it’s the way the show unspools its story, drenched in noir aesthetics and moral ambiguity. This isn’t the polished, high-gloss New York of The Avengers. There’s no Stark Tower gleaming in the skyline, no Spider-Man swinging through the streets. Instead, Jessica Jones drags us into a shadowy world of dingy bars, neon-lit alleys, and faded, broken people. There’s a palpable sense of place, of grit and grime, that makes this story feel more immediate, more visceral.
The show’s stylistic choices — the moody lighting, the hushed tones, the slow, deliberate pacing — all serve to draw you in, to make you feel the weight of Jessica’s struggle. This is a world that feels real, even when it dips into the supernatural. And it’s not just Jessica who’s struggling. Every character, from Jessica’s best friend Trish to the tough but conflicted cop Will Simpson, is dealing with their own demons. There are no easy answers here, no clean-cut lines between good and evil. Just people, broken and flawed, trying to navigate a messy, painful reality.
A Christian Perspective: Finding Light in the Darkness
So, how does a Christian navigate a show like this? On the surface, Jessica Jones might seem like a hard sell. It’s dark, it’s violent, and it deals with heavy themes like abuse, addiction, and mental manipulation. It’s not a show that wraps everything up in a neat little bow. But if you look deeper, there are glimmers of hope, of redemption, of a desire to reclaim what’s been lost.
Jessica’s story isn’t about being perfect. It’s about fighting, clawing your way through the muck, refusing to let the darkness win. It’s about confronting your past, facing the monsters that still haunt you, and daring to believe that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than your worst moments. There’s a raw honesty to her struggle that feels true, even when it’s painful to watch. It’s not an easy journey, and it’s not always pretty, but there’s something deeply human, deeply relatable, in Jessica’s refusal to give up.
Final Verdict: A Gritty, Thought-Provoking Watch
In the end, Marvel’s Jessica Jones is a show that’s not for everyone. Its darkness, both in tone and content, can be overwhelming. But for those willing to engage with its themes, to wrestle with its messy, complicated reality, it offers a nuanced, thought-provoking exploration of trauma, identity, and the struggle to reclaim your soul. It’s not a show that hands you easy answers, but it’s one that’s worth the journey — if you’re willing to walk through the shadows with Jessica, you might just find a glimmer of light.
Rating: 7/10. It’s not a comfortable watch, and it’s certainly not for everyone. But for those who can handle the darkness, Jessica Jones is a complex, well-crafted story that stands out in a crowded superhero landscape. Approach with caution, but don’t be afraid to dive in.
