Daredevil: Born Again – The opening sequence explained: symbolism, mythology, and the fall of justice?

You’ve already seen it. The blood. The wreckage. Daredevil. Bullseye.

The line Matt Murdock swore he would never cross, obliterated.

Justice did not just fail; it was executed.

Disclaimer: This analysis is based on the opening sequence of Daredevil: Born Again, combined with my knowledge of Greek mythology, alchemy, and symbolism.

While the visuals speak for themselves, their deeper meaning often lies beneath the surface. It's woven into history, myth, and the language of cinematic storytelling.

This is not just an examination of what is shown, but an exploration of what it signifies.

By the time the opening sequence of Daredevil: Born Again begins, the city is not bracing for impact. The damage is done. Foggy Nelson is dead. Bullseye is not. But Matt tried. Hard. He has done something he cannot take back.

This is not an introduction. It is an autopsy.

The brilliance of this sequence is not in what it sets up. It is in what it forces you to sit with. After the chaos, after the unthinkable, then the opening begins. A visual requiem for what was lost. A chilling prelude to what is still to come.

A requiem in ruins

First, the mask.

It falls, weightless yet crushing. This is not just a symbol of Daredevil; it is Matt Murdock himself, discarded. The moment lingers, almost reverent, before the world begins to collapse around it. Statues shatter. Foundations crumble. What remains of justice, blind, battered, and eroding, is left to disintegrate.

And then, Fisk.

His back, imposing, in the opening.

A reminder of a scene. Him.

Not standing. Not imposing. Upside down, eating. A grotesque inversion of power. This is not just a city in free fall. This is a world where Fisk has already won. He is not returning. He never left. The city, the balance, the fragile order Matt fought to maintain, is all unraveling.

But Born Again does not settle for devastation. It makes you feel it. It strips away not just people but symbols: justice, faith, the idea that any of this was ever fair.

The death of justice

A church spire crumbles. A cross is barely visible before it is swallowed by dust. A chalice disintegrates. Corruption, sacrilege, the desecration of something once sacred. And then, the Statue of Liberty’s head, fallen, shattered. A quiet confirmation that this is not just about one man. The whole system is collapsing.

The legal world is not spared. Nelson, Murdock & Page, once a beacon of justice, is not just fading. It is eroding like a tombstone, its lettering vanishing as if it never existed. And maybe, in a way, it does not anymore. Foggy is gone. The firm is gone. The life Matt tried to hold onto is buried alongside it.

This is not just a world without Daredevil.

This is a world where even justice is dead.

Born in blood

But then, something stirs.

From the rubble, from the dust and debris, Daredevil rises. He does not step forward. He emerges. The visuals shift. Grayscale gives way to deep red mist, as if the city itself is bleeding. This is not a comeback. It is a rebirth.

Hell’s Kitchen does not need a hero. It needs something relentless. Something unbreakable.

And Matt Murdock, whether he likes it or not, has always been that something.

Fisk/Kingpin, the unshakable Nemesis for Matt/Daredevil

The shattered statues recall the fall of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and strategic warfare. Justice, represented by Themis, no longer stands blind. She crumbles, no longer a force to balance the world. And then, Nemesis, the goddess of retribution.

In Daredevil: Born Again, Nemesis has a name: Wilson Fisk.

His introduction makes it clear. This is not about reclaiming power. Fisk never lost it. Matt’s world was turned upside down, twisted into something unrecognizable. Fisk is inevitability made flesh, the weight of every consequence Matt tried to outrun.

Nemesis does not teach lessons. She punishes those who overreach. And in Fisk’s eyes, balance has always been about control.

More than gods and monsters

The imagery does not stop at Greek mythology. The crumbling church tower and the dissolving chalice are not just signs of a city in decline. They represent Matt’s faith shattering, his belief system breaking down.

He has always lived between absolution and damnation. Now, there is no in-between left.

Even alchemy plays a role. Solve et coagula, dissolve and recombine. Before something can be remade, it must be destroyed. The sequence follows this principle. The city, Matt’s beliefs, and even his sense of self—they are all breaking apart, only to be reforged into something else.

There is also a touch of Trojan mythology. The Palladium, a sacred statue that protected Troy, was lost before the city fell. Here, justice, liberty, and faith have all crumbled. And with no protections left, Hell’s Kitchen is vulnerable.

The prophecy in motion

This is not just a prelude. It is a statement. A reckoning.

Everything Matt believed in is gone. But even in the ruins, even when justice itself has fallen, Daredevil rises.

Because that is who he is.

Not just a hero.

Not just a man.

A force.

A survivor.

A myth born again.