Daredevil alum Ben Affleck shares his opinion on the Jon Bernthal’s Punisher

More than two decades after first slipping into the scarlet suit of Matt Murdock in Daredevil, Ben Affleck is looking back, not with regret this time, but with a sense of perspective. In a recent press interview for The Accountant 2, Affleck sat down beside Jon Bernthal and didn’t hold back his admiration for Bernthal’s portrayal of Marvel’s most haunted antihero. It was honest, unscripted, and just a little self-aware.

“His Punisher is good... I wouldn’t tangle with his Punisher.” — Ben Affleck (Deadline/X)

He didn’t say it like someone checking boxes during a press tour. It came off more like one artist tipping his hat to another, acknowledging that some characters demand a different kind of commitment. And Bernthal’s Frank Castle? He doesn’t just walk into a scene, he carries the weight of it.

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Inside the Punisher’s war: Pain, purpose, and everything in between

Bernthal’s version of Frank Castle wasn’t designed to be clean-cut. He first stepped into the role in Netflix’s Daredevil, and later took center stage in The Punisher. Castle’s not your average vigilante. He’s a former Marine, a father and husband whose world was ripped apart in an instant. What followed was never meant to be redemption, it was war.

The series doesn’t offer easy victories. Directed by names like Steve Lightfoot and Tom Shankland, it strips away Marvel’s usual gloss and replaces it with grit. Castle’s mission is personal, sometimes reckless, always raw. He’s not chasing justice in the traditional sense, he’s chasing something to fill the hole that loss left behind. And in Bernthal’s hands, that torment becomes the heartbeat of the story.

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More than a weapon: The emotional core of Frank Castle

What makes Bernthal’s performance linger isn’t the violence, it’s what that violence is covering up. The Punisher forces viewers to wrestle with moral gray zones: When does vengeance become addiction? Is there such a thing as a righteous executioner? Can someone this broken ever come back?

And Bernthal doesn’t dodge any of that. He leans into it. He plays Castle like a man who’s always teetering between collapsing and lashing out. It’s not flashy. It’s just devastatingly human.

"Daredevil was an interesting story. It was before Kevin Feige had stepped into the role of running Marvel. He imposed a kind of clarity of tone across those movies that sort of figured out the trickiest thing, which is, ‘How do you balance a movie where you got people wearing pajamas and have superpowers, and how seriously you take it, and how much humor is in it, and how much you wink at the audience, and what does the action have to look like?’ It coincided with visual effects getting to a place where it could look really convincing. It paved the way for great actors like him to really get it done," said Affleck reflecting on Daredevil and Bernthal's role.

These lines could’ve sounded hollow coming from someone elss, but Affleck’s delivery had weight. He knows what it’s like to carry a complex character, to try and make sense of their darkness while the cameras are rolling.

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Back to 2003: Affleck’s Daredevil and a very different Marvel

Before the Marvel Cinematic Universe became the polished machine we know today, there was Daredevil (2003). Affleck suited up as Murdock in a film directed by Mark Steven Johnson, a project that tried to mix moody grit with early-2000s blockbuster flair. It had ambition. It had edge. But it also had growing pains.

The film pulled in over $179 million globally. Not a flop, but far from a phenomenon. Critics were split. Some appreciated the attempt to explore Marvel’s darker corners. Others found it tonally inconsistent, overloaded with visual effects and lacking emotional nuance. Affleck, despite his physical commitment, was caught in the middle of a film that couldn’t quite decide what it wanted to be.

Still, it helped spark something. It proved there was room for flawed, human superheroes on screen, heroes whose stories weren’t always about saving the world, but surviving it.

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A tale of two Marvels: Then and now

Affleck’s Daredevil belonged to an era of fragmentation. Back then, Marvel characters were spread across studios, handled with varying levels of care and consistency. There was no Feige. No shared universe. No long-game storytelling.

Things changed once Kevin Feige took over the creative reins. Suddenly, characters had space to grow. Stories were interconnected. Tone became a tool, not a gamble. Affleck himself has acknowledged this shift, pointing out that his film was made without the kind of direction that today’s Marvel benefits from.

And the reception? It reflects that. Daredevil (2003) hovers at 44% on Rotten Tomatoes. The Punisher, by contrast, earned critical praise, holding above 60%. The numbers aren’t everything, but they tell a story. One of evolution. Of refinement. Of Marvel figuring out how to let its characters breathe.

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Two men, two legacies, one moment of understanding

Bernthal’s version of Frank Castle isn’t designed to please. It’s designed to cut close to the bone. And as he gears up to reprise the role in Daredevil: Born Again, fans are excited, not just for the action, but for that emotional weight Bernthal brings to every frame.

Affleck’s praise might seem like a footnote, but it feels bigger than that. For years, he distanced himself from Daredevil, calling it one of his career missteps. But now? He sounds more at peace with it. Not because the film has aged better, but because the character lives on. Because someone else picked up the mantle and did something unforgettable with it.

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Conclusion: Same streets, different stories

Affleck’s Daredevil and Bernthal’s Punisher were shaped by different tools, different times. But their stories still echo each other. Both characters are driven by wounds that never quite heal. Both operate in shadows. Both believe that sometimes doing the right thing means doing what no one else will.

Affleck didn’t need to praise Bernthal. But he did. And in doing so, he closed a loop, not just with his own past, but with a legacy that continues to evolve.

Because in the end, the most powerful thing a superhero story can do isn’t show us how to fly, it’s show us what it means to fall, and still choose to fight.