As finishes go, Lono doesn’t have a bad one. It’s not great. It’s good enough. Azzarello seems to be showing a lot of restraint, like he didn’t want to do too for a finish. Like he didn’t want turn make Lono into too much of an action hero.

Instead, Azzarello focuses on the bad guy. He’s comical at this point, just because no one’s scared of him anymore and he’s got the whole twin aquarium thing going on. It’s humor. Very, very black humor, but still humor.

But the story isn’t a humorous one. The stuff with the priest and the nun isn’t funny at all. The issue doesn’t have a tone. Azzarello doesn’t commit to any of the ones he toys with.

It’s a shame Azzarello couldn’t maintain the level of intricate plotting he had at the beginning of the series. Like I said, though, the issue’s not bad.

B 

CREDITS

¡El Perro Loco!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Gregory Lockard and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

For the first time, I’m very unimpressed with Brother Lono. Azzarello is dragging things out–Lono’s getting tortured, the priest is trying to patch things up with the drug lords (or something, Azzarello is iffy on his actual motives), and the sister is going to get the sheriff. These subplots don’t come together. Azzarello races through each of them, with Lono’s being the worst because it’s a torture scene. Not particularly amusing. Or even engaging.

Even if Risso can draw some gross things.

It’s not exactly a bridging issue; it’s more like being stuck in the middle of a bridge you could see across before you started. It’s a dragging out issue and one with all big events. All that flavor Azzarello and Risso previously brought to Lono is gone.

The issue isn’t bad by any means, it’s just lacking and pointless. One could easily skip it, which is unfortunate.

B- 

CREDITS

¡El Inferno Llega a Casa!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Gregory Lockard and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

I hate the moments where the writer makes a big revelation his protagonist is actually the biggest badass in the world. At best, they’re hollow, at worst… well, they’re hollow and bad. Except Azzarello pulls it off here. And he pulls it off because of how he’s structured this series so far.

With Lono, Azzarello has done a somewhat gentle structure–the lives of the people in this town, in their particular situations, all brought together. When he reveals the “truth” about Lono, he does it through the characters he’s established. He throws a lot at the good guys this issue and their characters react and develop wondrously. Azzarello writes the heck out of the characters here.

And then there’s Risso’s art. Risso gets to do a huge action sequence after a couple lengthily paced sequences. He does great work.

It’s an outstanding comic; raises my hopes for the series.

CREDITS

¡La Canción de Los Torturados!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Sara Miller and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

The hard cliffhanger suggests Azzarello is finally getting to the inevitable bloody showdown in Brother Lono. He’s been setting it up, foreshadowing it with corpses mostly; it sort of had to happen, otherwise there wouldn’t be an epical plot line… but it’s also unfortunate.

So far, Brother Lono has been Azzarello and Risso delicately, intricately laying out scenes and connections. Azzarello manages to make it worthwhile in singles, but obviously more connected in the eventual trade. Giving it a big finish won’t undo the good work they’ve done, but it will suggest there’s a limit to how far mainstream comic can go. Of course, if they didn’t have eight issues for Lono, there would have had to be a lot more action.

Most of the stuff this issue’s character work. Azzarello plays the characters off one another–but not necessarily nefariously. Risso does great with those scenes.

Again, good stuff.

CREDITS

¡Los Hijos de la Sangre!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Sara Miller and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

Azzarello continues what one might call a peculiar approach to Lono. Nothing big happens during the issue; there might be cliffhanger–this issue has a soft one–and there’s a possibly big followup to the previous issue’s cliffhanger at the beginning, but it’s very mild otherwise. It’s horrific, sure. There are drug lords doing terrible things to one another and to regular people (this issue it’s more the hint of terrible things), but it’s almost tranquil.

Azzarello introduces another new character, yet another bad guy, and sort of follows him around for the day. When he gets to town, when he meets with a drug lord, how he spends his evening. It’s all very, very calm.

There’s a texture to Lono, a relaxed pace. It’s hard to anticipate what’s going to happen–though Azzarello does bring in a thing from the first issue–because the events don’t matter.

Good stuff.

CREDITS

!El Monstruo Del Norte!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Sara Miller and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

Brother Lono is tough this time around. It has the first attempt at a issue long subplot, which isn’t a bad thing at all. There are bodies on holy land, which ends up causing trouble for just about everyone.

Sadly, Azzarello doesn’t do a lot to establish the characters based their caricatures. There’s the beautiful young nun with secrets, there’s Brother Lono–I wasn’t clear, in the first issue, he just slept in jail; I thought he just got out–and there’s the priest. Oh, sure, there are other characters–the cop, the bad guys, some more bad guys. But it’s all pretty simple.

And Azzarello doesn’t exactly do anything wrong with those simple characters. Their actions make them a little more complicated, but not really. Lono isn’t somewhat shallow, but Risso’s art and Azzarello’s harshness make it a lot of fun.

The dream sequence is just wasted pages though.

CREDITS

!El Amor de Los Muertos!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editors, Sara Miller and Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

Okay, Azzarello sort of sets up the series here. He’s going split it between Lono, June the new nun and the assistant to the drug lords. I don’t think there’s anything else.

There’s quite a bit about the drug lords, which isn’t particularly interesting. The scenes are all expository. There are no slips of anything deeper or better.

The opening scene with the nun and Lono is really good, then she later talks to the priest. It’s good too. Hopefully Azzarello’s got something good planned for her in this series.

But the Lono stuff is a problem. He runs off to town to drink at the bar–he, the nun and the priest all lie at an orphanage–and Azzarello starts this terrible, first person narration. It’s shockingly bad, especially since nothing else in the issue is as poorly written.

It’s a decent enough issue, just a lot of problems.

CREDITS

!Tu Pasado te Matara!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editor, Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.

I’m not sure I understand anything in this first issue of Brother Lono except the titular character has been in the town jail for a while and he gets out. He’s on a mission to escort a visiting nun–of course she doesn’t look like a nun–to the parish. I think.

Brian Azzarello fills the rest of the issue with drug cartel guys torturing people for information, threatening priests, implying police corruption. Then there’s this meticulously crafted finale outside the bus station. The bad guys are looking for a DEA agent, Azzarello hasn’t revealed the nun yet and there are like three other guys doing shady things. It’s a beautiful sequence, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

Or maybe it all does and I’m just really tired, but I don’t think it does.

Eduardo Risso’s art is excellent. He gets bloody, but still implies even more.

“Fun” stuff.

CREDITS

!El Hombre Respira!; writer, Brian Azzarello; artist, Eduardo Risso; colorist, Trish Mulvihill; letterer, Clem Robins; editor, Will Dennis; publisher, Vertigo.