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| MOON KNIGHT No. 4, September 2016 |
Inauspiciously sat within the confines of a toilet
cubicle inside Gena Lander’s brightly-lit diner, the Moon God Khonshu could
just have easily been scolding writer Jeff Lemire, as opposed to this comic’s
titular character, when he berates him for wasting “precious time eating
pancakes” and directly enquires “what do you think you are doing in here?” For
whilst this fourth instalment in the “Welcome To New Egypt” story-arc starts
off well enough with a vicious fist-fight between Mister Knight and the
crocodile-headed Sobek, it’s likely the vast majority of this book’s 40,012 strong audience
weren’t terribly impressed with the narrative’s subsequent seemingly endless
portrayal of Marc Spector either aimlessly wandering through the dune-filled
streets of “a New York City covered in sand and pyramids”, or supping upon starch-based
batter and “warm coffee”.
Admittedly, the early revelation that a concerned local
cop is in reality an ancient Egyptian deity who was waiting for the “Son of
Khonshu” so as to “eat you and then expel you at the feet of King Seth”, makes
for a pulse-pounding punch-up; especially when it results in Jean-Paul DuChamp
bleeding to death on account of having his throat partially ripped out by the ‘Splashing
One’. But the former mercenary’s savage revenge upon Frenchie’s reptilian murderer,
dynamically pencilled by Greg Smallwood, is over within a heartbeat of panels,
and leaves the twenty-page periodical’s pace disappointingly wanting until the “Marvel
Worldwide” publication’s very conclusion when the “retrograde sanitarium”
escapee is surprisingly struck by a crescent moon throwing blade hurled by his alter ego, Moon Knight..?
Equally as disheartening is the Doug Wright Award-winner’s
sudden and senseless removal of Gena from his script. The tough no-nonsense Brooklyn
informant has fought right alongside the Fist of Khonshu since this “deep-dive
into… Marc Spector(s)… fractured psyche” started, and yet Lemire frustratingly
has her abruptly decide to stay behind in her prefabricated fast food
establishment, meekly accepting that because “the sand (is) rising out there” the
establishment will probably become her tomb; “Well then, so be it. Better here
than out there.” Such a fatalistic acceptance of her demise makes absolutely no
sense to so strong a personality, and it is hard to reconcile this Lander with
the woman who previously smacked Mister Knight over the head with a large stick
when she erroneously thought he was a pursuing hound-headed hospital orderly.
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| Writer: Jeff Lemire, Artist: Greg Smallwood, and Color Artist: Jordie Bellaire |
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