A car with the gear selector in “P” cannot move forward or backward, because the gearbox locks the wheels.
This small detail does not prevent a 60-kilogram woman from pushing a 3-ton SUV off a cliff. If you think she does so in such a way that said SUV opens up and frees her few-month-old son trapped inside to die of heat, you'd be forgiven for thinking that this is the plot of yet another Michael Bay-esque disaster movie, not the product of the supposedly best Italian authors.
"Monolith" is, first and foremost, a monumental monolith to cretinousness. First, the cretinousness of the main character, Sandra, so irritating that you can't help but feel the urge to slap her. Things go like this: she gets into an argument with her husband and, along with her few-month-old son, runs away in his car.
This car, which she does not know and cannot drive at all, is “Monolith,” the best car in the world. Oh, Elon Musk is going to be so angry. Anyway. She runs away with this car, whose owner's manual she didn't even bother to read, and goes into the desert. Here she runs over a deer (Wait, are there deer in the desert?) that gets caught under the car. As she tries hard to get rid of the carcass, the car closes with her son inside, and she no longer knows how to open it. Not least because she has lost her phone, which acts as a key. Nice job!
Of course, any of us has a nightmare of seeing one's child die before one's eyes, but the impression here is that the little son locked in the car is definitely the smartest character in the story. He is locked in the car and suffering, while his mother is forced to take an acid trip to figure out how to save him. And what is the solution? That of Wile E. Coyote (I kid you not): throw the car off the cliff and it, sensing an emergency, will open. Brilliant! Of course, we're talking Monolith, so the car falls off the cliff without a single dent - darn my Hyundai getting scratched by a button on my coat.
The car opens, her son is safe, Sandra speeds away running over everything in her path.
End of story. Did I spoil it for you? No, I just spared you the agony of a story without meaning, without depth, with absolutely artificial tension and downright ridiculous moments. Because by the end of this disaster of a graphic novel, the character you will feel most in tune with will be the dead deer under the wheels of that damn SUV.
Next time buy a hybrid Toyota, Sandra. And read the fucking owner's manual.
STYLING: ⭐⭐
ORIGINALITY: ⭐⭐
CHARACTER DEV.: she's so dumb you want to slap her
PLOT DEV.: ⭐
IMPORTANCE: not a chance