Archaia
Studios Press
Writer:
Matz
Artist:
Luc Jacamon
Just
when you thought the hired assassin story was dead: the body rises,
an extinguished cigarette dangling from a narrow, firm lip
is relit, smoke rolls from the nostrils, a cold, methodical hand
reclaims the gun.
The Killer is a gritty, noir comic that
follows the life and mind of an, thus far, unnamed assassin. As this
first issue opens, our blonde gunman is brooding in his own thoughts
as he waits for the arrival of his latest mark. As he watches and
waits, the assassin ruminates about how and why he transitioned from
law student to gunman, while doing a frightening job of justifying
murder for hire.
Written
by Matz and originally published in France in 1998,
The Killer
is being imported and re-presented for an American audience and I
find it hard to believe that any of what made this series popular in
France was lost in the translation. Matz’s writing of
The Killer
is disarming and potent, just as any hired gun should be. Part of
what makes the writing here unique is the self-awareness of the
narration. The assassin at the center of the story knows that we are
there; he feels us staring, acknowledges our disgust at his trade and
addresses it.
The Killer straddles the fence between
Post-Modern fiction and fictional memoir writing. The narrator is
both separate from the reader and, at the same time, part of the
readership – he speaks to himself and accuses us in the same
breath. A high-wire act worthy of Ringling Brothers.
Luc
Jacamon handles the artwork on
The Killer with deftness. He
gives
The Killer an unexpected look and feel. Dirty, bloody
and harsh at times, the artwork is balanced by the calm, even pacing
of the story panels. By the halfway point of the issue, even the
simplest of activities in
The Killer is full of subtext and
suspicion. Simply slicing an apple seems foreboding and disconcerting
and Jacamon manages to maintain the intensity with ease and finesse.
Knowing the malign nature of the book, Jacamon manages to do
something new an unique with the face of
The Killer’s
central character: he makes him look like the first guy in line for
chess club and the last guy to sign up for the “hired gun” class.
The unnamed hero is a thin, lanky, blonde-haired wisp of a guy who
looks like he may have just escaped from a Woody Allen look-alike
contest. But I dare you to say it to his face. By the end of the
book, the assassin’s thin, awkward frame feels more substantial,
crafted more from wood than straw. His former frailty feels more like
efficiency, the efficiency of predators. It’s only after you close
the book and begin to reread that you realize that nothing in the
artwork has changed – he’s the same character on the last page as
he was on page one – but you realize now that this isn’t the kid
you picked on in high school all grown up… this is someone
different, someone sharper, harder, someone you need to keep an eye
on.
Slated
to be a 10 part affair,
The Killer is the book you need to
watch.
