Jessica Jones is undoubtedly Marvel’s most innovative incarnation of a comic book character. Krysten Ritter’s performance aids in the drama’s unapologetic murder of Mary Sue; Jones breaks the conventions of female heroism more easily than she breaks the neck of her sexual and psychological tormentor in the finale of the first season.

The messy beginning to season two, released in March this year, leaves the viewer disappointed. The bland plot and lack of cohesiveness in the opening five episodes fail to live up to the standard of the first season’s thrilling fluidity, which began with a superbly dark and enticing pilot episode. “AKA Start at the Beginning” commences with a nod to the first season with its through-the-lens shots, Jones’ gritty narration and its dingy New York settings. Paradoxically, as the story begins to pick up, the show starts to lose momentum. The conflict with shadow corporation I.G.H. almost takes over the narrative and fails to live up to the villainous standard previously set by Kilgrave. The subplots concerning Jeri Hogarth (portrayed outstandingly by Carrie Anne Moss) and her diagnosis of ALS, the competition with fellow P.I. Pryce Cheng, and the deeper insight into the life of former addict Malcolm provide substance to the otherwise unfulfilling re-introduction to Jessica Jones.

The discouraging start does not last. The opening episodes, which introduce us to a “meat-face monster” with dodgy prosthetic makeup who is prophesied as this season’s big bad, set a false tone. As more about I.G.H. is revealed in episodes 5 and 6, the dependency on the Big Evil Corporation trope melds into a more meaningful plot. In particular, Episode 7, “AKA I Want Your Cray Cray,” is deeply insightful. We learn more about Jessica’s past, her first love Sterling, and the scarring impact of his death, which Jessica later discovers was at the hands of her presumed-dead mother. This combined with subtle allusions to the present day makes it one of the best episodes of either season. The shot of Jessica smiling on a hot day after having kicked open a fire hydrant is particularly resonant: as Jessica smiles and the water sprays across the frame we get a rare glimpse of her pre-Kilgrave. In the same episode, her partner is murdered. This startling contrast defines what Jessica Jones is as a television show — a blend of beauty and cruelty that leaves the viewer simultaneously broken-hearted and awestruck.

In terms of style, Jessica Jones’ second season may have even superseded its predecessor. The combination of a smooth jazz score and semi-ethereal lighting, which blends artistic vision and everyday colour palettes, constitutes the show’s stylish atmosphere. Coloured lighting and urban backdrops artistically connect viewers and New York City. In the season’s climax, purple lights flash across Jones’ face; her cheek is covered in her mother’s blood as she cradles her dead body. The presence of the colour purple is a motif continued throughout both seasons and signals Jones’ emotional distress, the colour of her Kilgrave flashbacks and the colour of his suit itself. Here the effect of the colour goes beyond the cinematographic and actually intensifies Jones’ trauma for the viewer.

This artistic approach taken by Jessica Jones’ creators and producers is not all that makes this story about a “powered person” stand out. The writers don’t solely rely on intricately orchestrated stunts to capture the interest of the viewer; Jones’ intelligence, tricky wit and the show’s dark psychological approach mean super-strength is not all Jones offers. “Fight Like a Woman” is one of several taglines for this season, with good reason. Jones’ fighting isn’t limited to the men who harass her, although we do get to see her satisfyingly smash one into a bathroom mirror. The approach that the all-female directorial team took for her characterisation highlights how being a heroine is not the dominant part of Jessica’s identity. Moreover, her main rival in this series is a woman, physically stronger than Jessica with just as painful a backstory, and the added layer of a familial connection to the villain enriches this exclusively female conflict. Jessica Jones is brave, yes, and definitely questionable. Most importantly, she is realistic — her problems aren’t limited to her powers. She is an alcoholic who consistently struggles with her mental health and the appearance of David Tennant in “AKA Three Lives and Counting” aids excellently in the show’s portrayal of Jones’ PTSD. The additional shock of Trish, her beloved sister, being her mother’s killer leads to a painful split between the two and cements Jessica’s isolation.

Despite some narrative missteps, season two of Jessica Jones is a success. Jessica ends the series having dinner with friends and not drinking alone, Trish may have finally received the powers she’s ardently pursued all season, and Malcolm has moved onto a respectable P.I. job. The main cast are happy but separated from one another. This ambiguous ending, though it fails to match the triumph that accompanies “AKA Smile,” delivers for both the first-time viewer and for the diehard Jones fan.