I remember the original Assassin's Creed game only as a simulator for jumping into haystacks between moments of immersive storytelling. While the gameplay was underwhelmingly formulaic, I was constantly digging through all the auxiliary plot points; Things like the needless emails and the branched dialogue composed this theme of genetic memory and a centuries-long power struggle between two ancient organizations, and it had me hooked. I wasn't quite interested enough to plop down the cash for the game's sequels, but I knew I'd be buying the comic spin-off the second I heard of it. What I found was that Assassin's Creed: The Fall was more than just a cheap spin-off money grab. Not only is the story a powerful entry in the AC series, but the careful design of the comic was capable of playing with the bilateral symmetry of comics rather uniquely, without resorting to knockoff Watchmen tactics.
Stemming out of my New York Comic-Con visit, I walked away the happy owner of Jim McCann's new all-ages book, Return of the Dapper Men. Maybe I'm still a little loopy from my chance to obediently fetch him all the water-bottles his heart desired, but I only have praise for the book. While most "all-ages" books take that classification as code for vapid kid's stories, this is a timeless book that can genuinely work for anyone. You can't touch the sleek artwork, and one can't hope to understand all this book has to offer in a single reading. What Jim and Janet produced here is a book for the ages.
There's a moment in issue #5 of Frater Mine where you can see true genius at work. The author, Sean McGrath, and the artist, Juan Romera, work seamlessly together to bring a truly goosebumps-inducing series of panels. I literally felt a chill as one of the main protagonists woke up from a nap and watched a number of black shadows silently marching down her staircase.
Mysticism, angst, and relationships are combined in Mr. McGrath's first two story arcs, which encompass issues 1-6 (issue 6 is forthcoming and should be published soon). The first story arc (issues 1-3) finds main character Matt, an unhappy high school teacher, being called back for an unexpected reunion with his former mystical friends. With a focus on nostalgia and the ties that bind friends together, McGrath takes us on a magical romp through heaven and hell. While this first arc is engaging, albeit confusing at some points (there's a lightsaber, an angel, and a few betrayals involved in the confusion), McGrath shines in his characterizations in the second story arc.
In issues #4-#6, the story takes an unexpected, yet welcome, focus on Matt. The mysticism is still there (in the form of a supernatural force that threatens Matt's family life), but it takes a backseat to McGrath's brilliant multi-faceted portrayal of a frustrated man trying to find his place in the world as he balances his family life. Heavier on the drama and character relationships, the second arc also sees Romera's pencils improve with each issue. By issue 6 both writer and artist have reached remarkable levels of professionalism and storytelling. [Editor's Note: I was fortunate enough to receive an advanced copy of issue 6]
But wait, you may be thinking, what the hell does all this have to with the LGBT community?
Though it's not the main focus of the series, Matt's homosexuality is often referred to throughout the book and McGrath's subtlety in his portrayal is much appreciated. Frater Mine serves to continue to demonstrates the variety of LGBT portrayals in comic books.
And so, with great pleasure, we induct Frater Mine as our LGBT Comic of The Month. No, you read that correctly. We're changing our format to give each LGBT comic more exposure.
Make sure to order your copies of Frater Mine via IndyPlanet.
