Night Fever: A Nightmare Noir of a Vacation

Frequent collaborations in any artistic medium can be a double edge sword, as they allow creators to develop a relationship and establish a rhythm, which then runs the risk of the work feeling repetitive or similar. The strongest partnerships strike a balance, using the shorthands and history to delve into something new or different. It’s translating the phrase “variety is the spice of life” to the artistic process. With a partnership that has now run over 20 years and a vast body of work, Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips (and in more recent years, Jacob Phillips) have proven that approach leads to continuously better works. 

Night Fever – written by Ed Brubaker with art and letters from Sean Phillips and colors by Jacob Phillips – pivots from the pulpy action/investigations of Reckless to a more moody, atmospheric exploration of crime. The graphic novel focuses on Jonathan Webb, a restless book salesman who descends into the seedy underbelly of the European town he’s visiting for a publishing conference. After reading a new manuscript that features a dream from his childhood, the festering resentment propels Webb to wander the cobblestone streets instead of sleeping. 

While on his walk, Webb trails a couple in masks to an underground party full of debauchery. He fakes his way into the party by taking the name Griffin and leans into the role. It results in meeting a mysterious man, Rainer, after being run down by a group of suits outside the party. Rainer pushes Webb, first to track down the men and then to another party, where Webb is split between keeping up the mask he’s constructed or staying faithful to his family. From here, the trip spirals into more acts of violence, break-ins, a drug trip, and then a hard shift into an espionage angle. Skipping over the twisty elements, which deserve to be read fresh, the book leads to a changed Webb returning home with a lack of resolution, but a reconfiguration of his priorities to his family.

Brubaker’s script channels an energy that resembles the delirious wanderings after a lack of sleep. It’s a bit unhinged, but still coherent, and feels like a controlled exploration of a stream of consciousness. Webb is an aimless wanderer that finds himself caught in a (no pun intended) web of deceit and violence and spends the bulk of the story taking reactive actions. He’s presented as a man with a carnal core caged by modern trappings and a familial regret inherited from his father. It’s a set-up that could lead to a passive story with a meandering plot. Instead, thanks to Brubaker’s masterful narration and focus on theme and atmosphere, the result is a spellbinding page-turner that ensures that the reader clicks into place with Webb, joining his almost voyeur-esque status for the first half of the book. 

Brubaker also ensures that a switch happens during the plot, as Webb takes control of the events unfolding and circumvents the machinations around him. That reversal is like a jolt of coffee at three a.m., adding a sense of clarity to the larger plot while spurring Webb to shift closer to the primal aspect of the character. That brings Night Fever closer to the feeling of a Brubaker/Phillips story and proves the versatility of this creative partnership. The larger structure of the graphic novel is a break in form and expectations that loops into something similar, proving that while the established formula works, there’s still room to explore.  

Phillips’s linework thrives thanks to the break in format, thanks in part to the production of the art. Channeling the spirit of the European influences from this book, Phillips illustrated the series using a classic method called double-up. The process sees an artist drawing the book on a page twice the size of the final product, which allows for packed panels full of stunning detail in this instance. The texture of the world that Phillips creates thanks to this technique helps to provide a new dimension to the art. Everything from the walls of old apartment buildings to the worn rock of cobblestone streets feels like a rich buffet of detail that helps to transpose the audience to this world, drawing the eye to every page and panel. 

Just like those details, Phillips plays with thicker linework for Webb’s figure to create a strong impression that draws the eye and allows for a sharp contrast to the colors on display. The heavier linework and inks create a concrete anchoring as Webb slips in and out of reality and insomnia. Phillips breaks that boundary and linework at a key moment of the story when Webb goes through his nasty trip. The four-page sequence breaks from the rich, vivid background work to exist in a stark black void filled with a rush of imagery. The sequence emphasizes Webb’s mental state, and Phillips lives in the mind, transferring the focus from detail to expression and anatomy. 

The art and its stunning focus on detail are invigorated by [Jacob] Phillips’s coloring as well, utilizing a palette that stands in a stark shift from previous works. Much of the color work on the Reckless books is a bit lighter, and less vibrant, which feels in line with the aesthetic and tone that series is going for. Here, Phillips instead shows off a palette that feels closer to his other creator-owned works like That Texas Blood and Newburn. Shifting to a noir drenched, European cityscape allows for these richer, vibrant blues and pinkish reds to alter the flow of this issue. It forces the eye to slow down and soak in every pigment just like the overt detail in the art begs for the audience to pour over. 

That overwhelming sense of color also helps to build tension in both the quieter sequences, like Webb wandering the empty night or the exploration of a murder unfolding. Each palette employed evokes a specific feeling or atmosphere, and Phillips guides the eye with ethereal colors in one moment, and then a concrete flare of a gun or splash of blood that returns to a primal feeling. All three creators engage with the delineation of man’s nature, but the coloring especially feeds that dichotomy to masterful effect, building off the linework to create the feeling of Webb’s internal conflict at every turn. 

Some of the most powerful imagery of the story that showcases the coloring are these shots of Webb’s glasses reflecting light or color to break up the backgrounds. These beats are used sparingly but grab the attention immediately. Seeing Reiner beating a man to a pulp in the reflection of tinted glasses is a stunning composition that [Jacob] Phillips reinforces through a hue that matches the warm lights of a building’s interior. The light contrasts with the savagery on display, and the flecks of blood splattered across the frame.