What more needs to be said about Season 3? Magnificent, perfection, Daredevil the way Daredevil was in Season 1 before Season 2 and the Defenders
blew everything off track. Man. That classic Kingpin/Daredevil knock-down drag-’em-out in the last episode harkened back to treasured Daredevil comics of my youth. Don’t know what it says about me that a brawl warms the cockles, but it did. Even more cockle warming, the knock-down between Daredevil and Gladiator, replete with saw blades. Would have been nice to see Gladiator in full regalia but this was fine, just fine. Gladiator
was always my favorite Daredevil villain and I almost shed a nostalgic tear as he tossed Matt to and fro. Loved Bullseye, too, but it would have been nice to see him in his own costume instead of swanning around as Daredevil. Yes, I know, there’s some Bullseye title where he does said swanning but that’s outside my comic book ken. Guess I’ll have to wait until Season Four…oh, right. Sorry.
I have not felt this let down and ripped off by an ending since Lost. What the hell? This was, up until the end, the best horror series in decades. About the only thing comparable is The Returned (the French version), which was as creepy and disturbing but did NOT shoot itself in the foot with a final New Age post-modern angst-ridden sellout episode. Dudes, really? Really?
Rake: 
Whew. For a minute there, I thought Cleaver Greene had jumped the shark and we were going so far out into the Australian bush that we would never find a way back but, apparently, the writers realized they were crashing and burning and quickly ended that silly Secretary of Defense storyline. Trump Derangement Syndrome, and I guess they just had to say something, just had to. So, feel better now? Great. Let’s stay on course, shall we?
BTW, I don’t binge watch. I watch an episode a week, unless it’s grabbed me and then maybe two episodes a week, like this last Daredevil. Some of us savor our pleasures.