The Sentry (2026) Review – Aimless in One’s Own Void
Bob Reynolds has always been a confusing character by design. Originally created by writer Paul Jenkins and artists Jae Lee under the Marvel Knights initiative, he was sold as a forgotten Silver Age hero. In his original, self-titled miniseries, The Sentry (beautifully drawn by Lee), Jenkins approached the character as an unraveling mystery of a man battling himself, Marvel’s most powerful hero, also containing its most powerful villain, The Void, each locked in a seemingly endless battle. This dichotomy and struggle has been the centre of nearly all of Sentry’s most iconic stories and moments, The Void is often used as a smoking gun in the plot, readers fearing his eventual appearance due to Bob’s mental health issues and drug addiction. But In the new 2026 miniseries, again titled The Sentry, this dynamic is altered in a way that shapes a new view of Bob’s mental health journey and sets out to start a new path, freeing both the character and creators from forever relapsing back into this now trope-filled story.
Written by Paul Jenkins, now his third time writing a Sentry solo series, and joined by artist Christian Rosado, The Sentry tackles its titular character not as a forgotten hero with a dark secret, but as a hero well known to the public since recently returning to Earth following his death and subsequent space adventures over the course of the last few years. Instead of bogging us down in continuity, Jenkins opens the series with Bob’s narration as he walks around his sentient base, The C.L.O.C Tower, with his pet, Watchdog. Bob’s narration sets the stage for the two primary through lines of this series, the first is establishing Bob’s mental health issues from a young age before he ever became The Sentry. He talks about his sadness as a child in learning about a dog that the Russians had sent to space in the early years of the space race. Relating to the dog being alone out there stuck in the void, his train of thought eventually leads him to clueing the reader in on the recent horrific acts The Void had done in space, destroying nearly whole civilisations and the weight that has placed on Bob causing him to spiral. At the same time as this we see The Void, depicted here by Rosado as a shadowy version of Bob attacking criminals using his powers more like a horror villain than a standard supervillain.
This set up really helps to clarify for the reader where Bob is at in this moment of his journey with his own mental health, and whilst this series has plenty of action throughout, thanks to a crystal alien virus, it places itself in the background for the main personal journey, which, like Jenkins’ original series, prides itself on its moments of calm in which we simply get to sit with Bob in conversation with himself. Whilst the world faces threats that only The Sentry can solve, we see Jenkins pivot the conversation of mental health around personal triggers. As mentioned, Bob, by the start of this run, is already harbouring guilt for The Void’s actions, and at the same time it is revealed that Watchdog has contracted a life threatening illness in his old age. The death of a beloved pet is something which I’m sure many readers can relate to and I love that Jenkins uses this experience to explore the relapsing of ones mental health, as not only does Watchdog’s death take a toll on Bob, it also worsen his marriage to his wife Lindy as she wonders why he can’t use his powers to save him. Presenting Bob’s mental health as a more nuanced and winding journey than static recovery and progression helps authenticate the themes of this book.
The climax of these many thematic threads is in the reveal that the relationship between The Sentry and The Void is one that has fundamentally changed. Through the four issues, we as the reader witness The Void acting on its own and seemingly appearing to swap with Bob at random moments. It is then revealed that for every bit of good The Sentry does, The Void sets out to balance it with an act of evil, this back and forth has been created by Bob’s own choice to try and ignore and repress The Void within himself, further internalising the feelings that had created it. Through allowing Watchdog to pass away and accepting the feelings that come with it, Bob faces reality finally having the strength to work with The Void instead of ignoring this part of himself. In this, The Void is no longer a massive monster as he’s appeared before but instead a reflection of Bob. Jenkins thankfully averts from the cliche of punching the big metaphor of depression until its solved forever, and instead in a more real and honest way, has Bob begin the path of self acceptance, not forgiving The Void but accepting his place within himself, and being able to move forward, working on himself instead of against.
Rosado’s art is also an important part of The Sentry’s message. Whilst I was not aware of his work before reading this, I’m happy to say I am a huge fan of his style. It captures a similar balance of ethereal and rough realism that Lee had brought to the original run of The Sentry. As I mentioned, Rosedo’s Void design chooses to visually represent Bob’s own self-acceptance, forgoing the giant monster route. Healso draws The Sentry with the same awe and presence that captures both his powers but also the superhero fantasy his is supposed to replicate. With the strengths of both Jenkins and Rosado this mini feels like a fitting spiritual sequel to the iconic original mini whilst also finally freeing up the character from the quite played out dynamic between his two halves and I for one am very interested to where The Sentry will go next.
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