When a writer of Paul Jenkins’ caliber returns to Marvel Comics after over ten years, you know you’re in for something special. The co-creator of Sentry returns to the series with a four-issue miniseries that returns the character to their proper form and function. Gone are any gimmicks and superhero hooks, as The Sentry #1 returns the character to his more relatable, human, and self-flagellating form.
The Sentry is not your stereotypical comic, which may make some skip it when flipping through. That would be a grave mistake.
The first issue is that visuals are dark, less detailed, and more moody. It’s a comic you read to get into the main character’s head, not necessarily to bask in their superheroics, though there are heroic moments. No, instead this is a compelling look at a man rife with self-doubt and unease. He knows the Void has done terrible acts, and can’t come to grips with telling anyone, not even those closest to him. He goes about his day as if he’s the hero his peers respect, knowing he doesn’t deserve it. It’s a solitary place, I think many will relate to, especially after the COVID shutdown.
Grave mistake may sound overly dramatic, but I’d recommend everyone check out this book because it feels so different, introspective, and deeply personal at a time when comics like Absolute Batman go big with action and ideas, but not necessarily with internal strife and psychology. That isn’t to say Absolute Batman is bad by any means; it’s just that The Sentry offers something worth investing time in.
Kingpin is pretty damn scared.
Credit: Marvel
The Sentry #1 opens with Bob moving a ball in a Newton’s Cradle so that it’ll click, with a tear streaming down his face. We don’t immediately know why he’s sad, but we do see he’s alone with only his loyal dog by his side. He’s alone with his thoughts, which Jenkins delves into via captions. In these captions, we learn about the first dog to go to space and the awful result: it burned alive. A dark thought, and one that the Void likely feeds on.
While Bob is taking in the moon from the roof of The Watchtower, Bob thinks of the aliens he killed as the Void. From there, we cut to a dark alley where Kingpin and his goons are mercilessly destroying lives, and the Void decides to show up and have a chat. It’s a dark and disturbing scene, not only in how Jenkins writes Kingpin, but also in how the Void frightens Kingpin despite Kingpin’s evil nature.
As the story continues, we see that Sentry is loved by fellow superheroes, and then he gives a press conference on where he’s been. In this scene, Jenkins plucks at the unnerving nature of Bob and how he delivers a grave sentiment, only to bring the room back up a bit with cheer. By the end of the issue, it’s clear he’s a manipulator of himself and of others.
Much of this issue does a good job of setting up a version of Sentry that’s as dangerous as ever, because he’s so alone. Tsunamis are created, and people are saved, a loyal dog that can’t be cured, and a Sentry that is losing control of himself hang in the balance, leaving the stakes quite high and the reader concerned for Bob. It’s not just what Sentry could do if he lost himself, but what he could do if he lies to himself in the process.
The art by Christian Rosado, with colors by Matt Milla, is dark, with shadows even in the brightest scenes. It’s as if the Void itself is taking over every page, lingering on the periphery. The humanity of the characters is always present and strong, with the superhero aspects mostly good to great. I say mostly as a shot of Sentry zipping by a tsunami is a little hard to gauge what is happening, though the dialogue explains it. Outside of that blip, though, it’s a strong art style that suits the book. I could see some finding it a bit too muddy for their liking, but it works with the themes and point Jenkins is going for.
The Sentry #1 feels like a return to what made the character compelling in the first place. Paul Jenkins strips away spectacle and focuses on the fragile mind of Bob Reynolds, exploring guilt, loneliness, and the terrifying weight of power. Christian Rosado and Matt Milla reinforce that mood with shadowy visuals that make every page feel haunted by the Void. The result is a comic that lingers in the reader’s mind long after the final page. It is not just about superhero action, it’s about the psychological toll of believing you may be the greatest threat in the room. If the rest of the miniseries holds this level of emotional depth, Marvel may have one of the most compelling Sentry stories ever told.
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