I’m hesitant to use the word “perfect” to describe a work. Mainly because perfect is very subjective. At a certain point in Mamo’s final chapter, I turned each page, holding my breath a little, waiting to see where creator Sas Milledge would take the book in its conclusion. But Milledge never hits those targets; she’s hitting different ones, better ones. I was hoping she’d find a way to give it a great ending, wheres Milledge was getting it to that great ending. So, in the sense it delivers—page by page—exactly what I wanted from it, Mamo doesn’t finish perfect.

It finishes perfect in a much better way than I ever imagined.

Despite the finale opening with an incredible action sequence—Jo and Orla spending last issue apart also makes more sense (again, it probably reads just right in the trade)—it’s all about character drama. The witchcraft is just an expression of all these buried, complicated feelings and bad memories. But the conclusion of Jo and Orla’s quest to properly bury Orla’s witch grandma is just the beginning; Milledge isn’t only telling that story. The action resolution changes the stakes for the characters, and Milledge sorts through it for the rest of the issue. The dynamic, visually thrilling action sequence is just an appetizer for the character drama.

Mamo’s a book about a lot, but it also does take place in a magical fantasy land, which figures into the resolution but never visually. Milledge focuses on Jo and on Jo and Orla, keeping it very grounded. The magic’s still out there kind of brewing, full of potential, but it’s not the point. The characters are the point, and Milledge does a phenomenal job with them. Perfect job. Down to the body language. Mamo #5 isn’t full of the swaying landscape—I kept wanting a double-page wide shot—instead, it’s full of breaths.

Outstanding work from Milledge. I can’t wait to read it again. I mean, I can because I want to give it time to settle, but, damn, Mamo is one hell of a comic. I know I’m going to miss Jo and Orla. Enough I hope Milledge does a sequel. Even a strong mediocre one. She’s created something special with Mamo and done so with exceptional skill.

It’s such a good book.

While it’s the worst issue of Mamo, it’s still a great comic. Creator Sas Milledge just doesn’t seem to have enough story for it and stretches. Orla and Jo deal with last issue’s cliffhanger, with Orla abandoning Jo and the crow. Except the crow seemed to have already left the girls. Jo can’t go after Orla because Orla took her bike (Jo’s), so Jo heads home. On the way, the crow asks why she isn’t going to Orla because the story’s obviously not at home; it’s with Orla.

It’s a lot of talking—and it’s not disposable exposition either; between Orla’s monologuing and the crow’s monologuing, we start to get a clearer picture of how witchy inheritance works. Unfortunately, we don’t get any substantial information about Orla—except when we find out she and Mamo’s family problems might be less about witch stuff than we thought—just more delays. Presumably, until next issue. Jo asks some direct questions, and Orla brushes them off, but they can’t go unaddressed forever.

And not with Orla going home instead of going to the rest of the comic.

Milledge also takes a faster pace, which is good visually (just never serene like the previous issues) and probably reads better in the trade. Definitely reads better in the trade; you’d get the resolution instead of another cliffhanger. But the issue story doesn’t match that faster pace; it’s just the monologuing, whether it’s Orla telling Jo she’s not going to tell Jo what Jo wants to know, Orla telling her cat things, or the crow narrating about Orla to Jo over Orla’s panels.

The dialogue requires a startling amount of attention. On the one hand, Milledge trusts the heck out of the reader to get it all. On the other, it’s a lot for relatively little. Especially if next issue delivers all the explanations we’re not getting here.

The character development’s also on hold. Jo because she’s sidelined and letting the crow run her scenes, and Orla because we’re finding out just what was so wrong with Mamo’s child-rearing. It’s a very heavy reveal, though it also feels like Milledge has got the other shoe to drop next issue.

While technically a disappointment—again, it’s a good comic, just the worst Mamo, and I’m sure it’s fine in trade—it’s still a success.

With each issue of Mamo, I consider starting by saying there’s no one like creator Sas Milledge in terms of visual pacing. At least for her character’s “performances.” Throughout the issue (and never concurrently), protagonists Orla and Jo have these reaction shots where Milledge has just paced it so perfectly their emotions come alive. Milledge’s other pacing devices are expert, but this particular one seems singular. It’s filmic in a way comics, even talking head comics, rarely attempt.

Or maybe the artists never manage to pull it off because there’s a history of how reaction shots work in comics, and Milledge eschews it for something different. More modern.

It also just could be because Mamo takes place in a tranquil, patient setting—even when there’s danger, it’s slow-moving (or gives the appearance of slow-moving because moths aren’t fast until you’re trying to save one from a cat)—but I think it’s Milledge. She’s cracked something with Mamo’s character development arc. It’s not just the pacing of conversations and story beats; it’s the actual plot details. We find out more about magic this issue, only not as much from witch Orla as ostensible non-witch Jo.

Though the opening touches on how magic works in Mamo, and Orla invited Jo into the proverbial fold last issue, it’s just not necessarily as initially exciting as it might seem, being a witch. The two travel continue traveling around town, fixing up the various problems resulting from previous town witch (and Orla’s grandmother) passing without having a succession plan in place. We meet Jo’s uncle and his sheep; they’re acting super-weird, but they’re also super cute because they’re sheep, and Milledge brings a lightness into the book even as Jo and Orla are actually dealing with witch bones and their magical power.

But Jo then reveals she might have a shortcut to finding the other sites—she’s been lifelong pals with the birds around town, who can talk because Mamo’s always got magic, not just when witches are involved (something Milledge gently implied last issue). It also means Jo’s had a much more fantastical life than Orla assumed, changing their relationship dynamic just as they make a big discovery for the cliffhanger.

From the first issue, it was clear Mamo was going to be outstanding, but Milledge is upping the ante every issue. It’s superior work.

While reading the first issue, I didn’t realize Mamo issues were double-size. I just thought creator Sas Milledge had some preternatural sense of pacing; she does have it, but the issues are also double-sized. They don’t feel like two issues slapped together, either. Milledge fluidly paces the issue—starting with a cliffhanger resolution through a bunch of character development and reveals. There’s never a false step. It’s incredible. Mamo #2’s even better than the first one.

The opening cliffhanger resolution leads into witch Orla explaining to mortal Jo how her witch grandma wasn’t buried right (for a witch—or anyone, really), and it’s causing the disturbances around town. When they start investigating, it turns out Grandma wasn’t just doing the regular town witch stuff; she was also keeping the ordinary folk ignorant of the fae (the magical creatures) around them. So they didn’t just not know what to do when she died; they had no idea they had to do anything. And unless Orla (and Jo) fix it, magical nature will literally retake the town.

Plus, the mystery of grandma’s improper burial. And Milledge gradually reveals more of Orla’s backstory regarding her relationship with her grandma and why no one around town remembers her even though she keeps saying she grew up there. Milledge also puts in a lot of work on world-building, doing a genuinely exceptional job with it. Jo’s learning about the world around her, information she should’ve had, but Orla’s a somewhat standoff-ish teacher. Everything’s a surprise—grandma not being buried right, grandma not educating the town about the balance with the magical—not to mention having a sidekick.

Orla’s also learning from Jo, whose family welcomes her in—there’s a hilarious and heartwarming breakfast before they start their first day on mission together. There is a lot of excellent character development set against the seemingly tranquil but upset world. Milledge once again manages to make the pages convey the breeze and the sounds of the nature the characters find themselves in. It’s such gorgeous work.

We also meet some of the other townspeople, who, it turns out, know more than Jo (and less than Orla), which gives Milledge some mileage in the unintentionally unreliable narrator department. It’s exceptional work.

The issue’s a delightful, often immediately rewarding experience. And the soft cliffhanger—set in a flashback—is superbly executed.

I can’t wait to read more Mamo.

Creator Sas Milledge is masterful when it comes to introspection. Despite Mamo often being full of expository dialogue, it’s about the characters when they’re not talking, why they’re not talking, what they’re thinking about instead, and so on. Just like most of the book, it’s understated, thoughtful, and fantastic.

The issue begins with teenager Jo riding her bike out to the seaside cliffs to consult the town witch. It’s windy, and the trees are swaying, with Milledge preternaturally keeping Jo moving as well as the scenery, implying two things at once. Milledge employs various styles in the comic without ever changing the visual norms; the pacing is sublime.

Jo’s mom is cursed, and only the town witch can help. Jo finds the town witch hanging out with her cat, reading a book while lounging in her hatchback. Milledge does a fine job establishing the world—there’s magic (the magic people are called the Fae), towns are supposed to have witches, and normies are supposed to have basic magic education.

Except Jo doesn’t find the town witch, she finds Orla, who’s a few years older—old enough to have a hatchback, not a bicycle—and isn’t interested in helping. Until something unexpected happens involving something supernatural, but it’s not entirely clear what. Because it’s magic, and Orla knows what it means, even if the reader doesn’t. It’s remarkably assured work from Milledge and only in the first four or five pages.

Orla and Jo talk on the way back to town, walking through a stunning forest, where they find out more about each other. It’s excellent pacing; Milledge’s superb at adjusting the speed.

There’s not just time for Orla to meet Jo’s family but also for a big reveal and then a cliffhanger, with Jo’s expository jabbering helping set the tone.

Mamo’s ostensibly YA comics, but it’s really just a great comic about characters who happen to be in that demographic. I already adore this book.