Brian Azzarello is no stranger to prison stories, as he wrote a controversial (but for me, enjoyable) story of John Constantine in prison to open his Hellblazer series. However, while the setting for "Chill in the Oven" might be the same, the approach here is quite different. The politics of prison are explored from several points-of-view, and the added wrinkle that the goings-on in this prison are related to a larger conspiracy, with several players both peripheral and integral to the conspiracy story, keeps things very interesting. And as always, Risso's work on the title brings through the shadowy, rough world in which these characters move.
I have to admit that I liked the first Loop Hughes story better, as the contrast between young punk Loop and his father Curtis was what really made the story for me, but that doesn't mean I'm not glad to see Loop's story continue in these pages. Some of my favorite exchanges are again between Loop and an older mentor figure, showing that while Loop is definitely smart and has plenty of courage, he doesn't necessarily know everything and isn't against learning from someone else. In addition, I love the use of Lono, as we see him as more than just a shadowy angel of death but instead someone with problems of his own, without losing his scary presence.
While the characters are certainly interesting, what has always gotten me about 100 Bullets is the atmosphere, and that's still very much alive in this story. The description of the various forms of shivs, the slang that feels real and is just this side of foreign language and the politics of the prison all bring the reader right into Loop's world, a place where most of us have never been and don't intuitively understand. It can sometimes be a little distancing, as Azzarello makes little effort beyond using context to explain the slang, but at the same time it adds to the reality of the book.
Of course, when you talk about the atmosphere of 100 Bullets, it's impossible not to mention Eduardo Risso. These days, you can find several folks obviously influenced by his style, or at least using something very similar, and it's no mystery why; his work is gorgeous. Full of shadows, strange angles and cinematic touches, but yet absolutely clear and full of detailed characters, Risso's work on the book brings the atmosphere of darkness and blood without losing the light that lets the reader look in, like a fly on the wall. Some exaggerated, almost inhuman anatomy for some of the characters fits right in with his general style as artistic license, and it gives the book energy without sacrificing realism.
In the tail end of this book there is a preview of The Losers #1, a military/espionage/conspiracy book that seems aimed directly at the 100 Bullets audience. It's hard to fairly judge the book, given that it's only eight pages out of the first issue, and lacks context, but the opening action scene is a lot of fun, and I'm certainly still intrigued. Diggle's writing has the snappy dialogue you'd expect from Azzarello or Ellis, and Jock's art reminds me less of Risso (as I'd first expected) and more of Danijel Zezelj crossed with Charlie Adlard, a potent combination that seems well-suited to the script.
