3 out of 5

‘Zero’ remains an incredibly compelling book that stands light years apart from Kot’s big league books.  The first collection, issues #1 – 5, started offering us reflections into retired spy Edward Zero’s past, leading up to some left-field reveals about… aliens… or some sci-fi element that just amped up – in a positive way – the whole off-settling nature of the book, and made Kot’s long-term approach (each issue a solo tale that fills in flashes of something larger) as exciting as the read was worthwhile.  This second collection doesn’t take a step down in quality at all, but it lacks the vaguely linear forward progression of the first arc and doesn’t really have as much to offer.  We’re again seeing little moments of Zero’s life – and some important ones, granted – but this almost feels like a pause in things to get even more philosophical with whatever concepts Kot is / will play with as things continue.

Issue #6, drawn by Vanesa del Rey in a very sketchy style that honestly makes some action and some who’s who hard to discern (‘Zero’ has the fortunate quality for being written in a dreamlike state, so art like this still works), is perhaps the one that feels most like one of the ‘mission’ books from the first arc, as Zero tracks down know-it-all Robert to some protected facility, offing some dudes in a bloody fashion before hearing Rob espouse some cryptic wisdom and then step – and disappear – into another big, glowing portal.  The concept of reformation is underlined via a story about phase shift – water turning into ice.  It’s a solid issue that maintains the spy feel while sprinkling some conspiracy crypticness about.

In issue #7, Matt Taylor’s big, clearly-lined figures walk us pacedly through an interaction that shows Zero coming to terms with how he wants to deal with Zizek.

Issue #8 follows on this, with Zero coming to Sara Cooke’s rescue after hearing that Zizek had planned to have her killed.  Jorge Coelho is an interesting midpoint between our two artists – bold figures against heavily lined and shaded backdrops, action detailed via some creative paneling choices.

Issue #9, by Tonci Zonjic – who’s cleaned up his style, coming closer to the streamlined simplicity of Paolo Rivera or Marcos Martin – takes a step far back in Zizek’s past, to give us some further insight on why he is who he is.

And finally issue #10, the most indirect issue of the bunch: Michael Gaydos’ heavily-inked style shows us a day in the life of ‘Roland,’ an alias Zero has taken up in a small town as a chef.  Zero seems to constantly be questioning whether he’s still in the game or not, and in a very Prisoner-esque moment, gets caught in the middle of a “live play” which seems to oddly mirror his own life.  And then, y’know, a Psychic TV quote to close things out ’cause Kot’s like a cool indie bastard.

There are two superficial elements which continue to amaze: Tom Muller’s design work on each book makes it simply impossible to pass by on the comic shelf, and Jordie Bellaire’s colors are insanely flexible – juxtaposing colors when appropriate, blending when appropriate – and always just effing spot-on.  Each issue has a “feeling” and no panel betrays that.

So this is absolutely a valid arc, still, but it’s an arc-less arc, even less so than before.  And my lower rating is really only due to that: a couple of the issues work effectively as one-shots (#9 and 10), but otherwise it feels like Kot’s just pulling on some threads and letting things sloooowly unravel.  Which is absolutely fine.  You can’t find books like this any more.  Vertigo used to do this, but they’ve lost their way, mostly, chasing sales.  Image has really embraced the creator ethic, and it’s truly astounding that Kot can deliver something so willfully oblique (but not Morrison confusing – we do have a sense of some of what’s going on, whereas with Morrison you’ve generally gotta do crack magic and then read the series three times to get the gist).  The style will, occasionally, lend itself to ‘inbetween’ moments like these issues, but I believe (hope) that at the end point, we’ll appreciate the time taken to give us these slow, subtler glimpses.