Dusting Off: Nightside #1 (October 2001)
by Julian Hazeldine ~ July 16th, 2008
Every Wednesday we take turns to delve into our trusty longboxes, pluck out a dusty back issue, and give you our thoughts. We’ll also try and place it in the context of the time it was originally published.
After the breakout successes of Sleeper and Criminal, it’s clear that Ed Brubaker has opened the door for pulp authors to bring their strengths to mainstream comics, with Duane Swierczynski drawing much kudos from his crime literature. This cross-pollination is not a new development, but it’s curious how less self-assured even a comparatively recent attempt feels in comparison. Robert Weinberg’s credentials as a horror author are not in doubt, having written over a dozen novels and had a hand in many anthologies. After his initial venture into the world of comics was curtailed by a change in Marvel’s editorial policy (time travel was out, that year), he retuned in 2001 with this original series about a number of monstrous communities secreted in the heart of contemporary New York, and their self-appointed peacekeeper. In what was intended as an introduction to the world of Sydney Taine, Weinberg has his heroine investigate a spate of mysterious killings, trying to put the pieces together before the Nightside descends into all-out war.
It’s impossible to talk about any creator-owned title without at least a passing mention of the artist, but Tom Derenick’s work is a particularly integral part of the book’s tone. He’s a skilled, if sometimes unremarkable, penciller, clearly influenced by Alan Davis’ work. He has, however, a trick up his sleeve. Breaking away from his previous superhero work, Derenick adds to his drawings a layer of pencil shading, giving the book an intriguing, almost monochrome look. It’s a deceptively simple move that instantly grabs the reader’s attention and adds much to the pulp detective element of the property. Despite this strength, the artist’s character designs leave something to be desired. He communicates the characters in an uncomplicated fashion, arguably to excess. Sydney is a trench-coated femme fatale, while Ape is her massively powerful henchman. In story terms, there’s little wrong with the use of such stock characters, which merely exist in as vehicles through which to explore the setting and its mysteries. However, a less obvious interpretation could have given the book the spark it lacks.
There’s a rich mixture of influences here, with horror the most obvious, but the most interesting inclusion is the whiff of mafia-style politics, as Sydney attempts to keep a negotiated harmony between the various monstrous families. However, Weinberg appear to somewhat limits his ability to exploit this, by sometimes dumbing-down his heroes. The book’s greatest weakness is actually in its obedience to the norms of comics storytelling. While our introduction to Taine is gripping, as she deftly fends off enquiries from the city’s police force while carefully examining a crime scene, Weinberg insists on giving her a quasi-superhero costume for her confrontations with the various Nightside families, and she’s frequently found relying on her fists rather than her brains. The plot moves rapidly, with the first issue culminating in ambushes on the heroes, but it’s regrettable that the author’s narrative style doesn’t match his setting’s offbeatness.
Taine and her world later found a more comfortable home in Weinberg’s prose stories, but aside from a Wildstorm limited series, this venture sadly marked the end of his comics work. It’s arguable that the market wasn’t quite ready for the book, but its appeasement of a traditional conception of comics’ audience prevents the title achieving “aborted classic” status.














