It’s also a program that delicately, intricately draws in viewers, adding layers with each character and subplot in a way that will make not watching another episode difficult. Why is Trish taking self-defense classes? What secrets are Luke hiding? Why is Hogarth so dismissive? And how villainous will Kilgrave get? Like the slow reveal of The Kingpin on “Daredevil,” the writers of “Jessica Jones” treat Kilgrave like the shark in “Jaws,” making his legend more menacing than imaginable by the time he actually starts getting notable dialogue. He’s barely in the first few episodes, which allows the writers villain build-up in a way that’s not really possible in film.

It’s also impossible not to notice and appreciate the gender commentary on display in “Jessica Jones.” At first, it’s subtle—the strong woman who escaped an abusive relationship with the controlling man—although, there are clever, brilliantly written comments on gender imbalance and the male gaze even in the first episode, no more so than a chilling moment that precedes extreme violence in which someone tells Jessica to “smile,” an annoyingly common reality for women in big cities and the men who think they’re being chivalrous but are really just being controlling. The subtext of a male-dominated society, even one in which women have superpowers, becomes even more blatant as the show goes on with lines like, “Men and power, it’s seriously a disease.” “Jessica Jones” is daring and brilliant because it’s more about what we do with power than having it. We’ve seen hundreds of stories of men and women with abilities beyond our imagination, but “Jessica Jones” dares to suggest that even in a universe of super strength it is how we use our advantages, especially the ones society gives us, that impacts the world.

To be fair, I wish “Jessica Jones” was a little more stylish. The show is often shot in a flat, predictable manner, which is likely a choice made to place emphasis on the deep emotion of the piece instead of a perceived “comic book look,” but it results in a show that has almost no visual language at all. That’s disappointing in an era of visually strong dramas all over the TV landscape. Compared to those, “Jessica Jones” can be distractingly dull to look at.

Luckily, it’s never dull in every other department. From Ritter’s totally engaged performance—this character could have been pure snark but she never gives into that impulse—to the aforementioned themes that Rosenberg so captivatingly weaves into her narrative, “Marvel’s Jessica Jones” works. It would be tempting to end by suggesting you change your Thanksgiving plans to include it, but I suspect most of you will have watched it all long before Turkey Day.