Review: Zero Vol.3: The Tenderness Of Wolves

Zero, Vol. 3: Tenderness of Wolves (Zero #3)Zero, Vol. 3: Tenderness of Wolves by Ales Kot

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

There goes Ales Kot making me a liar. I made a statement about not sticking it out with this title in my review of Vol. 2 if there weren’t more in the way of answers with this one. Well, guess I’m fulla shit, because I’m in for vol. 4. Kot keeps givin’ me just enough to string me along.


Edward Zero’s back at it in Zero Vol. 3 The Tenderness of Wolves. And by “back at it” I mean he’s straight- up wreckin’ mother fuckers. Kot’s Zero seems to continue to borrow heavily from Ludlum’s Bourne series with the “rogue agency assassin” thing. Ales keeps pulling the curtain back a little bit at a time with this latest collection. While this book plays out a little more straight forward chronologically than the first couple volumes, don’t expect it to make a huge difference in terms of being any more concise. Chapter 12, while being something of a head scratcher, had a pretty unsettling revelation though. Eewww.


The off the chain violence helped to keep my attention. Believe me when I tell ya, there’s a butt-ton of it. Zero runs into a couple of folks that are just as hardcore as he is and shit gets REAL. The last 2 issues collected are especially light on dialogue and heavy on the kickassery. Loved it.


As in both the prior collections, a new artist tackles the drawing chores with each new chapter. This collection might be my favorite to date in terms of the overall consistency of the artwork. Everybody did a bang up job. Marek Oleksicki being something of a standout with the last chapter. He really nailed the visceral vibe that issue needed.


I know the lack immediate clarity about just what the fuck is going on story-wise will put people off to this title. Typically, I fit in that category. But Ales has set the hook and I’m seeing this one through to the end. Which, from I understand, is the next collection. Can’t fuckin’ wait.

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About Lono

I spend most of my time thinking about comics, tattoos, guns, beer, comics, my kids, comics, my wife, bourbon, samurai, comics, boobs, and English Bulldogs. And very rarely, if ever, think about work. I’m the less literate, rarely appropriate, knuckle-dragger of the bunch. I’ll make any excuse to hang out with my Shallow Reading pals, nerding out about comics, and avoiding responsibility at all costs. Only my name has been changed to protect the justifiably embarrassed. For completely un-waxed full frontal nudity, hit me up over at Goodreads.

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