Lo mejor es que le eches un vistazo a la serie más adelantado y todo eso...
Por cierto, magno, no se si has visto este video:
Hablando de Jessica Jones, de todas maneras, acabo de recordar unarticulo sobre la serie que leí no hace mucho que publicaba el New Yorker...
As I watched Jessica and Kilgrave spar, another show kept coming to mind: “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” the comic-book-inflected series that made me into a television critic, and which was airing around the same time that the original Jessica Jones comic-book series, “Alias,” came out. “Buffy” ’s most divisive season was its sixth, when the villains weren’t the show’s traditional “big bads” but extremely little ones: three comic-book-loving nerds, Warren, Jonathan, and Andrew, who began as minor characters, precisely the type of geeky guys who bicker over the merits of TV adaptations of Marvel comics. Their gang, the Trio, was a goofy lark, designed as much to catch the attention of the superpowered Buffy as it was to defeat her. Only over time did they slide, in increments, into real crimes, attempted rape and murder. And, like “Jessica Jones,” the show was less obsessed with pure-cut violent misogyny than with the queasy intersection of seduction and mind control, with fantasies about overriding consent and the excuses that abusers make for their worst acts.
On “Buffy,” this coercion took many forms, using overlapping occult metaphors: there was a Buffybot sex doll, a memory-wipe magic spell, and a supernatural roofie that Warren designed to turn his ex into his sex slave. The kinky, and also mutually abusive, relationship between Buffy and her bad-boy vampire boyfriend, Spike, kept shifting back and forth in meaning, with coercion and violence, exploitation and role play, combining into a toxic mess. Many viewers resisted these plots, finding them off-putting or, as Tumblr might have phrased it had it existed in 2001, problematic. But, in retrospect, that “Buffy” season, in all its gaudy perversity, its willingness to shock, feels underestimated. On “Buffy,” the truly dangerous people were the weak and resentful: that was the kind of person (often but not always a man) so ravenous for control that he’d embrace evil rather than risk rejection.
Since “Buffy” aired, more than a decade ago, that season has struck me as remarkably prescient, a rare confrontation with intractable questions of sex and power. Gamergate—the corrosive online cultural movement—might as well have been founded by the Trio. Bill Cosby is nothing if not a vampire. The on-campus movement against sexual assault lives on the fault line of these stories, with the grayer area of blackout drinking at the center of a national debate. Even the recent revelations about the “boy-next-door” porn star James Deen feel related. He has been accused both of raping his girlfriend and of manipulating the rules of consent on porn sets, enabling him to abuse women in front of an audience. It all seems like a replay of the same nightmare scenario: say yes to anything and you’ve signed away your right to ever say no. “I want everything to be my fault,” one female character says, on “Jessica Jones.” “Means I have some control.” When the alternative is radical vulnerability, who can blame her? ♦