The Evolution of Daryl Dixon: A Character Journey 13 Years in the Making
Photo Courtesy of AMC
It’s hard to imagine The Walking Dead without Daryl Dixon (Norman Reedus). His crossbow, permanent snarl, and long ratty hair have been staples of the show since its inception (Daryl was first introduced in Episode 3 of the first season, “Tell It to the Frogs”). Because of his firm existence in the TWD universe—not to mention his cache of nine lives, what with his sneaky, cat-like talent of evading death—Daryl was recently granted his own spin-off, his name front and center in the title with The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon. Reedus’ and Daryl’s ability to captivate audiences and leave them wanting more is all the more impressive when you consider that his character was never even meant to exist in the first place.
In 2003, writer Robert Kirkman developed a comic series about the zombie apocalypse. In 2010, he became the screenwriter and producer of the television adaptation of his beloved comics, a little show called The Walking Dead… and here we are, thirteen years and several spin-offs later. Many things differ between the comics and the show, especially since the comic series ended a few years before the show did (the show was its own beast, but that’s a discussion for another time, one when we all have a few hours to spare). Yet one of the most significant differences remains longstanding fan-favorite, Daryl Dixon, brother of loose-canon Merle Dixon (Michael Rooker).
Reedus originally auditioned for the part of Merle (another character Kirkman dreamed up for the series), but as with the marriage of all good actors and creative producers, Kirkman saw another character in Reedus—one that didn’t exist. Thus, Daryl Dixon was born; Kirkman created the character specifically for Reedus. It’s interesting to garner audience reception to unexpected characters like these, especially given potential fears of backlash from lovers of the comics, which was the expected, built-in audience for TWD at its release. But that’s what makes good writing: the red herrings, and navigating the unexpected—navigating it well, at least.
Daryl and Merle started out as two sides of the same coin. Despite now being the heart of the Walking Dead universe, Daryl was introduced as an aggressive, slow-minded redneck, the lesser of two nuisances up against his brother (albeit not by much). He was little more than a throwaway character at the start, someone who ramped up the antagonism caused by his brother. Yet, Season 2 began to chip away at his tough-guy facade; when Carol’s daughter, Sophia, disappeared, Daryl spearheaded the search party without anyone telling him to. This also marked the beginning of his friendship (although some will say they were more than friends) with Carol, undeniably one of the best relationships on the show, casually pairing two of its best characters.
Daryl was a slow burn. If paying close attention, viewers would be able to pick up on the gradual erosion of his trademark scowl through the seasons—and this change could be seen not only physically, but mentally, too. Season 2 hinted at it with Carol and Sophia, but Season 3 only served to confirm Daryl’s natural role as the unlikeliest of caregivers. He was a leader, but not only to bolster his ego and put his manliness on display; in fact, the main reason why he stepped up to lead the group forward was because of Rick’s (Andrew Lincoln) incapacitation after the loss of his wife, Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies).
Daryl’s two closest relationships on the show, particularly early on, are notably with women: the aforementioned Carol Pelletier, and the younger Beth Greene. This is at odds with the person we’re first introduced to, and particularly at odds with the type of person Daryl is set up to be when comparing him to his brother. He’s a loner who casts aside everyone from his life, understandably only focused on himself and his survival; his character seems like the antithesis of someone who would have multiple, healthy platonic relationships with women.