I picked this book up at the tail end of a Brian Michael Bendis bender -- once I'd read all the "Powers" collections, what was left...? And having read it, I'm looking forward to the rest of his "Daredevil" stories...!

I think this was the start of his stint scripting DD (in issues 16-19) and while the overall story has a bit of a been-there, agonized-over-that feel to it (a child abuse victim goes into catatonic withdrawl, until the adults can catch up to what he's been through...), Bendis manages to hit the right notes to give this story some punch. Bendis and illustrator David Mack work together on many levels, with the art complimenting and commenting on the text and the story arc in various ways... Mack slips and slides between a photorealistic presentation and a more disjointed chicken-stratch style that accentuates the chaotic inner dialogue of Timmy, the little boy who's mental health is at risk. The artsiness of the illustration is distracting through most of the book -- Mack's work calls a lot of attention to itself, and you are frequently made aware of his Technique, with a capital "T", but in the revelatory climactic sequence, the interplay of the constrasting styles really pays off. The story is told from the vantage point of newspaper reporter Ben Urich, so there's not a lot of the Matt Murdoch/Daredevil character in here, which actually is fine; it's a nice change of pace.

Overall, this a good story, well worth checking out, and an appropriate entry point into the Bendis-penned DD storyline. Recommended!

If you look at my other reviews, it will be patently obvious that I am a big fan of BMB -- please excuse my simple taste. I will stray from that here by saying I am not a fan of this book.

The first reason is David Mack. I know a lot of people like him, and he does have a lot of talent for capturing light with watercolors. I understand his own books are really good, and I liked his covers for Alias a lot, but his angsty teenager style (like the way he writes words into his drawings) is a little hard to take for Daredevil. I also couldn't stand how Peter Parker looked EXACTLY like DiCap and their secretary bore a ridiculous resemblance to model Kate Moss. I mean, photo referencing is fine-- clearly, I excuse it of Maleev-- but could he use less recognizable faces please?

And I think Brian Michael Bendis' work is not as compelling here, either. I have a big problem with comics that do the "child in trouble" storyline. I mean, what is up with this city? Why are children always in some sort of contrived danger? This storyline has been done too many times. JMS did it, twice, on Spiderman, and that's unfortunately when I stopped reading that book. Bendis doesn't really find Daredevil's voice until "Out" with the help of Alex Maleev. I would pass on this one and start on volume 4.

Don't get me wrong, i enjoyed this book. Smith is great at writing (a little bit too much at times, but great). Quesada's art is pretty good too. My main problem was that I love Bendis and Maleev's Daredevil so much more, and i could tell that both writers (and artists) were percieving Daredevil differently. I like Bendis' take better, and so this book wasn't as easy for me to fall into as the other ones. Still essential to read, but in comparison to the later and current books, just not better.

They didn't make comic books like this when I was a kid. Coming back into the realm of comic book reading only last year, after a too-long hiatus in the serious world of "grown-ups", I was amazed and delighted to find how wonderful this genre could be. The Daredevil movie prompted me to seek out the title again, and one of the first I read was the Brian Michael Bendis/David Mack "Wake Up" trade paperback. The brilliant storytelling and the unmatched artwork had me spellbound.

The story that jumped off the pages at me was unlike anything I had ever seen between the covers of a comic book. Timmy's plight and the way the doggedly determined Ben Urich sought to find the hidden answers were graphically depicted in the most beautiful watercolor illustrations and child-like crayon drawings, interspersed with what I had always thought of as "comic book art".

David Mack's photorealistic renderings make the saga heart-wrenching, while Bendis's scripting takes the Man Without Fear to new heights, and gives us the ultimate moment of tenderness between a boy and his hero. Never thought a comic book could make me cry.

Bendis's prose and Mack's art are wonderful together. If you haven't seen this team in action, you are missing a treat.