Upside to the dark side

Take a quick glance at Roman Dirge’s work, his creepy-crawly cartoons, his spooked-out comics, his definitely-not-for-children toys (the warnings on the boxes say “for ages smart enough not to eat large hunks of plastic”), and you might assume that Dirge is a man of dark vision, a sad-eyed, melancholic wonder as endearingly odd as any of his characters.

You’d be wrong.

At the Bourgeoisie Pig Cafe in Beachwood, I am greeted instead by a cheery and fresh-faced 30-year-old, raven haired and sporting several piercings, sure, but nonetheless in the possession of a surprisingly sunny disposition.

“I’m incredibly lucky,” Dirge says. “ I get to do what I love and make money at it -- what could be better?”

What Dirge loves to do is draw. To draw comics to be exact: sweet and strange and slightly discomforting books of stories and illustrations -- all rendered in a style that might be described as an unholy union between Tim Burton and Dr. Seuss.

“Dirge’s characters have a certain childlike innocence,” says Chris Vrenna, a music producer and member of the band Nine Inch Nails (and a Dirge fan), “but at the same time they’re very disarming ... which can be dangerous.”

Dirge has been drawing since childhood, sketching out characters born from a fecund imagination, a fantasy world populated by broken dolls, haunted houses, swashbuckling pirates and sideshow oddities.

Dirge’s work was then (and still is) weirdly sweet; macabre but somehow managing to come off as cute.

“He has a style that attracts you while it scares you,” Vrenna adds.

Thoroughly discouraged by his high school art teacher from pursuing a career in illustration, Dirge ignored that advice and went to work for a local San Diego magazine directly following graduation with the idea of finding a way to draw.

It was there, in the early 1990s, that Dirge filled in a last-minute blank page with a small comic about a little girl named Lenore, a charming, mischievous, yellow-haired child, who also just happened to be dead.

Lenore was an instant success. “People just loved her,” says Dirge, who remains surprised by the reaction. “She maybe represents the need we have to explore new things, that quality that children have, the curiosity they have before death and taxes and all that stuff.”

Before long, little Lenore had won a devoted following, and Dirge found himself with a publishing contract and a burgeoning career. His work struck a chord with a wide and diverse audience: Goths, punk rockers and heavy metal kids alike were drawn to his characters for their mix of mischief, vulnerability and outsider appeal. “You can’t help but feel for his characters,” Vrenna says. “Lenore feels like your little sister.”

Since that comic’s inception, Dirge has published several illustrated books and directed a series of animated shorts for Sony, and his renderings of cutely mutated kitties, lonely monsters and carnivorous bunny rabbits emblazon everything from T-shirts to plastic action figurines, products Dirge sells at the retail chain Hot Topic.

In some ways, the success of stores like Hot Topic is indicative of the popularity of Dirge’s own aesthetic, a success that has recently caught the attention of Hollywood taste-makers as well.

In addition to his work for Sony, there are upcoming plans for a “Lenore” animated feature, and Dirge is penning a “Halloween” script with “Beetlejuice” and “Addams Family” screenwriter Larry Wilson.

“Working with Roman has been great,” Wilson says. “He has a way of doing stuff that on the surface is kind of morbid and grotesque, but you look a little closer and it has a lot of heart and a strange innocence to it. He can take subject matter that is in some ways very dark, but he can add a sly element of humor that transforms it and elevates it.”

“Darkness is intrinsic at this point,” Dirge says. “Everything I touch turns dark.” He pauses a minute, then smiles and shrugs. “That’s just me.”

Obviously, being himself seems to have worked. Despite his high school art teacher’s misgivings, he has managed to build a career out of his distinct vision, creating a world where even the misfits and the outsiders have found a home.

“What Roman does, and what he and I are doing together, it’s like licorice,” Wilson says. “You either love it and want more of it, or you hate it and spit it out.”