Looking for a meticulously researched police procedural? Hungry for a probing meditation on the fluidity of sexual orientation? Then keep looking, because FAKE is neither of those things. But if you’re looking for a slick, engaging romantic adventure, you could do a whole lot worse.
In FAKE Vol. 1, Sanami Matoh introduces readers to New York City detective Dee and his new partner, Ryo. On the surface, Dee is the prototypical cop who plays by his own rules. He’s cocky and conceited, yet charming in spite of that. Ryo is reserved, a little uncertain, and seems initially to stick closer to procedure. Dark-haired Dee and blonde Ryo are handsome as models. It’s the standard buddy-cop character formula, but I don’t remember Hutch ever sticking his tongue down Starsky’s throat.
This happens fairly frequently in the course of FAKE, as Matoh is a lot more interested in tracing Ryo and Dee’s evolving personal relationship than he is in telling cop stories. Ryo resists Dee’s advances, in part because he’s still figuring out what he wants. Beyond that, he has good reason to wonder just how deep Dee’s feelings run. Dee passes himself off as a lothario, and he may well be one, but there are many moments that hint at deeper feelings.
The pair’s investigations aren’t really much more than a backdrop for their courtship dance. This is all to the good, because the law enforcement content of the manga doesn’t bear much resemblance to the realities of police work. It’s just an opportunity to fold in some fairly deft if unrealistic adventure content to punch up the moments when the hot guys make out.
The cop work also helps round out the supporting cast. In one case, Ryo befriends a streetwise orphan, Bikky. Bikky’s father has been murdered, and he latches onto Ryo as a father figure and protector. Bikky’s juvenile homophobia triggers a need in him to “protect” Ryo from what he sees as Dee’s predatory advances. This could sour the proceedings, but it’s played largely for laughs, and it’s just as likely that Bikky sees Dee as a rival for Ryo’s attention. (Dee certainly sees Bikky that way.) Bikky’s friend Carol, a charming young pickpocket, doesn’t care about the cops’ sparking much either way. Her priorities are her ailing father and Bikky.
FAKE’S strength lies in the characters, who are all appealing in their own flawed ways. Matoh has done a fine job of creating the kind of interpersonal dynamics that can further story, and even the short-term characters – crooks, cops, etc. – are distinct. The art is appropriately dynamic, and Matoh does action, comedy, and romance equally well. If there’s a problem, it’s the sometimes clunky translation if dialogue. Syntax can be a bit off, too formal or stiff, but it’s not bad enough to hurt the flow of the otherwise deft storytelling.
On a more personal note, I have to admit that one of the things I love about FAKE is that it’s not About Being Gay. It focuses on gay characters, but they aren’t specimens. Sexuality isn’t presented as a problem or an issue so much as part of a larger mosaic. Dee and Ryo work, they make friends and enemies, they flirt, they go through life. And they kiss.
And, on another more personal note, I just don’t think there are nearly enough comics featuring hot guys kissing. So if you ever watched Glaser and Soul busting perps and thought, “Just kiss already,” FAKE might be for you, too.