She-Hulk: Savage or Sensational?

Or neither?

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is getting roasted each week. We could just blame this on “toxic fandom,” but then we’d miss out on quite a few learning opportunities.

If you’re enjoying the show, that’s fine. Please keep enjoying it. Nevertheless, a lot of the criticism out there is valid.

We’re eight episodes into the nine-episode season. Unfortunately, despite my having enjoyed the comic book version of the character for many years, the Disney+ series hasn’t been working for me. If the finale turns out to be a masterpiece, it might retroactively improve the previous episodes a little bit, but many of the issues would remain.

Let’s see if we can break this down as calmly and respectfully as possible …

Spoilers ahead!

1.) Comedy

She-Hulk’s comic books took a comedic turn back in the late ’80s, so there’s plenty of precedent for a humorous take on the character. She was smashing fourth walls before Deadpool was ever drawn. The idea of a law firm that specializes in superhuman cases also has its roots in She-Hulk comics, and it’s a fun concept.

However, much of the comedy in She-Hulk: Attorney at Law stems from a concerning premise—that other people are the problem.

Most episodes feature Jennifer Walters (She-Hulk) having to suffer the most insufferable people. We’re supposed to laugh at her ridiculous dates, the silly villains, and even some annoying women. Yes, the show does make fun of both men and women, but there’s barely any character-based comedy that stems from the flaws of the main characters or the interactions between the established cast.

Comedy can’t merely point and laugh at stupid people. It needs to balance itself with a healthy dose of self-deprecation, or, in the case of sitcoms, jokes at the expense of the main characters.

Imagine if Cheers was about Diane having to endure the endless boorishness of Sam Malone episode after episode and we’re mostly just supposed to laugh at him. That would have gotten old fast.

Sam and Diane are perfect foils for each other. He has a clear advantage in street smarts; she has a clear advantage in book smarts. Both are flawed, neither is better than the other, and they each give as good as they get when their verbal sparring ramps up. Throughout many episodes and several seasons, the upper hand keeps switching back and forth, keeping the tension alive and vibrant.

In Seinfeld, Jerry and friends are often passing judgment on the various people around them, but the show knows full well that Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer aren’t such wonderful human beings either. As they comment on other people’s weird quirks and flaws, we laugh at their weird quirks and flaws. And we might recognize ourselves at any point along the way.

When comedy laughs at everyone, it ultimately judges no one—we’re all flawed and messed up in our own ways, and we’re all just trying to figure things out. Comedy, done right, keeps us all humble.

She-Hulk seems to want to point and laugh and complain, but it lacks that Seinfeld self-awareness of how Jen isn’t such a great person either (or at least that doesn’t come across in most episodes).

The closest it comes to poking fun at Jen’s own foibles is when a guy ghosts her and she obsessively checks her phone. But even that’s more the guy’s fault. As opposed to, say, if the guy was genuinely great but had a completely legitimate emergency come up, and Jen inadvertently sabotages a potentially fulfilling relationship through a series of humorous misunderstandings.

2.) That scene.

It's possible to write a great superhero show that tackles the theme of toxic masculinity. Indeed, an example already exists: the first season of Jessica Jones. That show takes the time to humanize the villain without excusing any of the horrible things he’s done, and Jessica has plenty of flaws herself. Plus, Killgrave’s mind-control power provides a good metaphor that represents the damage that toxic men can cause, not only to women but to other men too.

Take a look at this much-talked-about scene from the She-Hulk pilot, in which Jen explains to her cousin, the Hulk, why she’s so much better at controlling her anger than he was early on. “I’m an expert at controlling my anger because I do it infinitely more than you,” she says, because every day she has to deal with catcalling and condescending men who might murder her if she’s not polite.

As many others have pointed out, in the comic books, Bruce Banner was a victim of child abuse. Even if that’s not part of the MCU Hulk’s backstory, it’s context that Hulk fans are familiar with, so “I do it infinitely more than you” comes across as tone-deaf at best.

Based on how the eighth episode ended, it now appears the writers did not intend this scene to be a direct lecture at the audience, and that they’re aware Jen indeed has more to learn and doesn’t come across well here. But a lot of people, myself included, completely misinterpreted it as on-the-nose venting, which suggests there’s some room for improvement somewhere. So how might we smooth this out?

The writers may have intended to make a point about how men and women process anger differently, and that’s an interesting idea to explore. But I think the key issue is that the dialogue lacks specificity to Jen’s life. I can picture Mallory, one of the supporting characters, saying the same thing if she had been exposed to gamma-irradiated blood instead.

Jen is an experienced prosecuting attorney at this point. Maybe she’s seen guilty people walk free because they have the right connections. Or maybe she’s gotten a conviction, only to later learn that the person was innocent. Or what if we saw her failing to stand up for herself in any aspect of her life? And then later, her She-Hulk persona brings out a more confident version of herself, perhaps too confident, though, and she struggles to find the proper balance.

There are so many possible sources of anger that could be specific to Jen’s life. This was an opportunity to show us what she cares about and perhaps where she struggles while also raising broader points about the effects of anger. In that regard, the dialogue misses the mark.

3.) Motivation.

Why did Jen become an attorney? What are her goals in life?

Based on the eight episodes I’ve seen, I’m not sure.

Comic book Jen/She-Hulk had clear motivations from the start. In her first appearance in Savage She-Hulk #1 (1980), she’s an attorney who’s trying to take down a mob boss. Therefore, the mob boss sends goons out to kill her, and one shoots her while cousin Bruce is visiting. Therefore, Bruce gives her a blood transfusion to save her life, and an ambulance takes her to a hospital so she can recover. The goons follow to finish the job. But then, because of the blood transfusion from such a unique donor, she transforms into She-Hulk and takes down her attackers.

It's not an especially great comic book, but it follows the fundamentals of good storytelling and sets up a strong character. We see how Jen, even with no powers, is motivated to pursue justice and hold criminals accountable, and her transformation into She-Hulk arises as a consequence of her opposing a mob boss. (In the show, it’s just a random car wreck caused by a random alien spaceship, and Bruce’s blood randomly falls into hers while she’s pulling him out of the car.)

Also, look at Daredevil’s legal career. Whether it’s the comic book or Netflix version, we see Matt Murdock’s passion for justice, his desire to help out the low-income residents of his hometown, and his need to honor his late father’s wish that he become something more than a boxer.

Maybe I missed a key line of dialogue somewhere, but I don’t know why Disney Jen wants to be a lawyer. A passion for the legal process? A desire to help people? A good salary? It’s unclear.

4.) Heart.

Nor do I know what she’s hoping to get out of her dates with various men. Except for one-time guest-star Daredevil, none are developed well enough to carry any weight.

Forget the romance angle then. Who or what does Jen love? She seems to have a decent relationship with her family, and that’s nice, but the show neglects to give those relationships any depth. (Comic book Jen’s mother died years earlier, and her father is a police officer and kind of a jerk—there’s tons of friction between policeman father and lawyer daughter in the early comics.)

Disney Jen has a best friend, her paralegal Nikki, but that relationship receives little development. Nikki serves primarily as her cheerleader and a source of perpetual validation, while Jen doesn’t really do much for Nikki.

Daredevil fleshed out the friendship between Matt and Foggy and showed us how these two love each other like brothers, and conflicts arose between them. Same with Captain America and Bucky in the movies. There’s nothing like that on She-Hulk.

In an early episode of Cheers, “The Coach’s Daughter,” Coach meets his daughter’s fiancé—and the guy is a total jerk. This guy embodied toxic masculinity long before the term went mainstream, and he lacks any redeeming qualities whatsoever. But he’s not just there for us to point and laugh at. This isn’t an episode about how terrible men can be. On the contrary, this is an episode about the kind of man Coach is, and how he loves his daughter and still loves his late wife. The irredeemable jerk is the antagonist who exists to spark a rather touching heart-to-heart between a father and a daughter.

Compare this to the sixth episode of She-Hulk. An immortal man seeks the services of the law firm Jen works for. Jen’s at a wedding, so Mallory, who’s also an attorney, takes this case, with Nikki’s assistance. The immortal man keeps killing himself to avoid confrontation with his spouses, and these spouses are now suing him. The immortal man is blatantly sexist, thoroughly unlikeable, and has zero redeeming qualities, which might be fine if he served a clear function for the main characters.

This was an opportunity to learn more about these two supporting characters and dig deeper into who they are. But neither Mallory nor Nikki goes through any interesting character development while they try to settle this case as quickly as possible. We learn a little bit of information about Mallory at the end, but we don’t experience any meaningful moments of triumph or defeat with her, nothing that cuts to the core of her being. Alternatively, some humorous conflict between Mallory and Nikki, arising from personality differences, could have been fun, but they get along well enough.

A sitcom doesn’t necessarily need heart (look at Seinfeld). But a superhero sitcom tremendously benefits from it.

5.) Heroism.

Jen is only concerned about herself. She explicitly does not want to be a superhero, and she seldom goes out of her way for anyone who isn’t a client. In the pilot, she does help Bruce escape their car wreck, but that’s her most heroic action and it’s early in the pilot.

Granted, this could change in the final episode. But if the plan was to show Jen growing from a shallow, self-absorbed lawyer to a more selfless superhero, eight episodes without any real progress is too long. It’s like if we had eight episodes of Spider-Man’s wrestling career before he learns that with great power comes great responsibility.

A show about a reluctant superhero could work with new characters or possibly different characters, but She-Hulk is not the right fit for that, not spread out over this length of time. For quite a few years in the comics, she was much more of a proper superhero than her cousin. She joined the Avengers and even substituted for the Thing in the Fantastic Four. It’s the recurring challenge of adaptations: Some differences will occur, but at what point do you have basically a new character with the same name?

Each episode of She-Hulk offers silliness but no meaningful growth—other than Jen learning to accept herself just the way she is. That’s the opposite of a hero’s journey, though. To become a hero, the protagonist must become something better than she was at the beginning.

And that might happen. We’ll see. Helping Wong fight demons was a step in the right direction, but it felt like one step forward and then one step right back. Otherwise, throughout eight episodes, every opponent she’s encountered has been a joke, even characters like Titania and the Wrecking Crew who are quite formidable in the comics. Not exactly the fire that forges a hero.

Avengers: Infinity War contained a lot of jokes, but none were at Thanos’s expense. A superhero comedy doesn’t need to follow that same rule, but the villains can’t be only jokes either.

6.) Daredevil’s shoes.

To be fair, the latest episode, which guest-starred Daredevil, is the best of the series. The script allows Matt/Daredevil to be a genuinely good guy and a formidable superhero. He gives Jen some good advice about perhaps doing a bit more with her She-Hulk persona. And the two have decent chemistry, setting up what could have been a mature relationship, even if they ultimately parted as only friends.

But Jen chooses to go straight to sex, and our final image of Matt is him doing the walk of shame the morning after. For inexplicable reasons, he’s carrying his shoes and walking barefoot. I guess those shoes were designed for running across rooftops, so they probably don’t work well on sidewalks.

What’s the in-story rationale for Daredevil not putting his shoes on? Could they have been badly damaged earlier? Some detail to set up the gag would have helped. Either way, though, the whole bit seems out of character for him.

I’ve gone on longer than I intended. Feel free to share your own (constructive!) criticisms of the show, or if you’ve been enjoying it, let me know what appeals to you. Just as there are valid criticisms, there are also valid reasons to enjoy the series.