Starr and Bertilorenzi’s The Chill, about a rash of mysterious serial murders with an odd twist in the streets of New York City, is my new favorite obsession. Fuckin’ go Vertigo, keeping me sucked in like a crack whore on the rock.
This is the first of Vertigo’s new “Vertigo Crime” series that I’ve read, and I have to say I love the format. I’ve become more of a nerd when it comes to packaging in the past year or so, so the incredible cover, and the fact that it’s novel-sized and hardcover, is perfect. Bertilorenzi’s art on the inside reminds me a lot of Eduardo Risso’s work in 100 Bullets, a great mix of fluid cartoony-ism that makes motion and layout flow real well, and stark realism when it comes to human anatomy and shadows (if that makes any sense).
The twist at the end is what truly makes this as the realization of what has happened hits you. It’s not really what I thought it’d be, but I really like what it turned out to be.