Page 45 Review by Stephen
Welcome to the return of the ruminative assassin, and a welcome return it most certainly is. Here he's particularly preoccupied with the disadvantages of dying in your sleep. And whom it is wise to hang out with.
"The hard part is not the loneliness. The hard part is choosing the right people to have around you, when you finally decide to have people around you. Loneliness offers guarantees that vanish as soon as you try and trust someone. Stepping away from it is running a risk. Especially for me."
You never do know whom he should trust in this series. It's its greatest source of suspense. Previously even the man he'd always placed the greatest trust in, long-time accountant Edward, turned out to be capable of treachery. Pretty stupid into the bargain. Edward had been the conduit in a contract on a man called Martini, and then gone one further and tried to take out The Killer himself. Didn't really work out for Edward, no.
Now lying low in luxurious seclusion, our anti-hero is visited by a man called Mariano, god-son to a Columbian drug baron called Padrino. Seems Martini was one of three men Padrino had set up in high society Paris in order to distribute his wares. The way Padrino sees it, taking out Martini had caused him some serious inconvenience even though The Killer saw the man under police surveillance and may have done Padrino a favour in silencing him. Unconvinced, Padrino insists The Killer accepts contracts of his own in exchange for forgiveness. It remains a lucrative deal so although the worryingly talkative and inexperienced Mariano is foisted upon him, The Killer accepts. From Buenos Aires to New York City things go (sort of) well until, while cruising down the Amazon, there's a vicious attack back home on his lover. Instinct leads him to question whether it was Padrino, but that simply doesn't add up and The Killer hates it when things don't add up. He doesn't like coincidences either, like the assassination of a second of those three drug dealers in Paris, or being befriended by a cop who's being investigated for police brutality. Who's after him now, and what connection does it have to Martini and Edward?
There, I think I've accurately set the scene whilst leading you all astray! Your turn now to grow as paranoid on The Killer's behalf as I was this sunny Sunday afternoon.
That you will all fear for this hitman's safety is a telling testament to Matz's skills as a writer. The Killer's cogitations on his career and craft and its implication for life in general play a substantial part in this. They're well reasoned and betray a heart he denies having, as do his new sentiments towards the woman he's chosen to trust. I think you'll like the cop too.
As to Luc Jacamon, his colouring has always impressed me no end, particularly when it comes to the dappled shadows under a boulevard of trees, and I love the way that there's this constant presence throughout, even outlined in negative on the side of a building, of an Orinoco Crocodile - the very essence of patient, predatory guile. He excels at details others would never think to incorporate like scaffolding netted in green supporting the side of already impressive edifices. There's a gorgeous sense of space no matter what he's asked to draw in whichever country, and there's plenty of globe-trotting to be done here. I'm a very big fan of 100 BULLETS but it can become bogged down by words whereas Matz never allows any self-indulgence to crowd out Luc Jacamon, maintaining a perfect equilibrium for a smooth and pleasurable read in his medium of choice.
So I'm going to do something which we've never done before on Page 45's Comicbook Of The Month and declare a second volume to be it! I know we declared PROMETHEA volume five an early choice, but we gave you all the option of buying volume one at discount instead. This time, however, I am confident enough that I have given you everything you need in this review to make volume two an eminently satisfying self-contained read with a beginning, substantial middle and end. Largely because my memory is so bloody rubbish that I couldn't remember a detail from volume one published in 2007 and still took it all in here.
