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August 1, 2006
Ivan Went to Comicon and All I Got Was This Lousy Photograph of T-Shirts
The title says it all. I've been wanting to go to Comicon for years now but once again, I didn't get to go. I sent Comparative Media Studies graduate student Ivan Askwith to be my eyes and ears at this event. This is the first of an unspecified number of blog posts he's writing about his experiences there. Here's what he had to report: Since this was the first year that I've been able to attend ComicCon, I have no strong basis of comparison to describe how the event has changed over time. From the "Copy Points" briefing I was given at the press registration table, I can tell you that: - This year marked the 37th annual ComicCon Since I was attending on Henry's behalf, however, I was interested in seeing how ComicCon might illustrate some of the themes and trends addressed in the forthcoming Convergence Culture. As anyone who has been to ComicCon could tell you, I wasn't disappointed: over three days, I spent more than 40 hours talking with fans, attending panel discussions and content previews, browsing a massive hall packed with more collectible merchandise than I could have imagined, and chatting with reps from some of the most popular exhibition booths. Trade press estimates suggest that more than 140,000 people attended this year's Con. So after three exhausting days, and almost a week to reflect and recuperate, let me share a few of my most significant observations and conclusions from attending the San Diego ComicCon. ---- As I've already mentioned, this was my first time at ComicCon, so I'm not in the best position to describe how the event has changed, in tone or content, since it began in 1970. If I were going to speculate, however, I'd guess that ComicCon began as a fan-centric event, an annual cult gathering where fans could engage and interact with other fans from around the world who shared their particular passion, while meeting some of the artists or creative minds responsible for their objects of appreciation. Thirty-seven years later, it has turned into something quite different: above all, ComicCon struck me as a perfect setting for Hollywood cool hunters seeking "the next big [marketable] thing," and for entertainment marketers trying to create the diehard fan base needed to make their products the next big thing. More on this in a moment. Watching people move around the floor in the Convention Center, it was relatively easy to break the attendees into a few distinct (but by no means comprehensive or exclusive) categories: Most obvious are the spectators, most of them presumably from the San Diego area, who attend for the pure spectacle of the event, but don't demonstrate a strong affiliation with any of the properties or franchises present. For spectators, the panels and exhibitors are fun, but the real draw of the event seems to be the general craziness of the most committed fans and attendees. Spectators don't tend to seek out any particular booth or scheduled event; instead, they mostly wander the floor -- often with children or significant others in tow -- stopping to stand in line only if there's a hot piece of free swag waiting at the front of it. Then there are the casual enthusiasts, fans who are familiar with (and vocally appreciative of) several shows, comics, or characters. Enthusiasts might wear clothes with affiliation logos on them, but they won't be in full costume -- which is to say that enthusiasts are fans who demonstrate a socially acceptable level of enthusiasm about the objects of their fandom. They might have all of the issues of a particular comic, or own all of the DVDs for a particular show, and their friends might even roll their eyes when they advocate on behalf of their fandom, but by and large, enthusiasts still consider themselves "normal." And then, of course, there are the hardcore fans. These are the fans who have an obsessive level of knowledge about their active fandoms; who immediately recognize the usually anonymous producers, writers, colorists and illustrators responsible for their favorite shows or comics; who dress up in elaborate handmade costumes, often in small clans; who will get in line at 4 AM to secure front-row seats to an hour-long panel held at 2 PM; who are often extremely vocal in their appreciation or enthusiasm , and so knowledgeable in arcane details that the creators of their obsessions sometimes seem alarmed. ---- This brings us back to the Convention itself, and my initial suspicion that there has been a discernible shift in ComicCon's function over the last several years. The most obvious manifestation of this shift is in the event schedule itself: while many of the smaller panel discussions still feature independent artists, fan-favorite illustrators, and small time cult creators, the largest sessions -- held in auditoriums with capacities ranging from 2000-6500 -- are now showcase sales pitches from the major film studios, comics distributors, publishers and television networks. The traditional notion of ComicCon as a gathering for pale-skinned geeks and science-fiction nerds seems to be crumbling, giving way to a new notion of ComicCon as a giant pitch session, where marketers and celebrities court the often-skeptical fan market in an attempt to win their approval and support. Or, to place this in the larger context of Henry's work on convergence: culture producers have finally started to grasp the vital role of fans as a central engine in the new entertainment economy.
And, as an aside: In a smaller, but very visible group, are the swaghunters: attendees who don't really care which line they're standing in, or which panel they're attending, as long as they go home with the most coveted and exclusive freebies and giveaway items. You can speculate all you want on the reasons for this, with possibilities ranging from bragging rights to eBay resale value, but the fact is that the most ardent swaghunters don't seem very invested in the products themselves -- just in the free stuff that's being given away.
- An interesting product from Mattel called HyperScan which combines collectible card games and video games in a hybrid very similar to projects we've discussed in our own department. Core video game play is enhanced through the acquisition of trading cards with RFID tags embedded in them, which "unlock" additional character abilities and powers. This presents a new variation on the transmedia we're used to, and hints at an interesting economic model with the same core principles as the "gotta collect em all" ideology which drives "pokemonetization" -- the difference here being that the acquisition of additional items results in a more tangible difference to the gameplay experience. - One last Alias ARG? Free promotional posters and the "authentic Rimbaldi box" from Alias were on hand to promote what Buena Vista Home Entertainment representatives described as "the complete Alias boxed set", which will be released in a package designed to look like the artifact from the show. However, given the cryptic nature of the poster -- a picture of the box, a URL , and a phrase "Missing for Centuries: A Challenge Awaits You. A Journey Begins." -- I suspected it might be involved in a larger promotional campaign with ARG-esque elements. No one at the booth knew anything about this, and registering at the website appears to give access to an "exclusive wallpaper download." If they're smart, it would be nice to see one last ARG tied into this; if not, well, I still wrote about it, so I suppose they got what they wanted. FAN CULTURE - Some of the most ardent fan groups were present on the floor with their own booths, including the San Diego Star Wars Society and the California Browncoats , a group dedicated to the continuation of Joss Whedon's discontinued Firefly. Among the items for sale at the Browncoat booth was the DVD of a new documentary, Done The Impossible: The Fans' Tale of Firefly & Serenity.
- Costumes included all of thesual suspects: Superman, Spiderman, Batman, the Hogwarts' contingent, Jedis, Stormtroopers, anime and manga, and a few interesting hybrids, including an Elvis-influenced Stormtrooper. The culmination of this ostensibly came on Saturday night, with the annual ComicCon Masquerade, a jurid showcase of a costume fashion show, held before a packed audience an telecast to other rooms in the Convention Center -- I say ostensibly because the 46 entries in the Masquerade, while often impressive, did not represent the best or most elaborate of the costumes at ComicCon. The st entries tend to be walking the floor, and the best gauge of their popularity is the length of time you have to wait in order to have your picture taken with them. Worth noting: a noticeable number of Masquerade entrants were dressed as classic Nintendo characters, with Link among the most popular characters of the night. OTHER INTERESTING NOTES In an interesting move, Marvel shared a booth with Activision, suggesting that (presentations and paneldiscussions aside) they are moving aggressively to carry their prerties into the video game space. (I had expected that one of the two largest comics publishers would have their own booth, but the bulk of the Marvel/Activision booth was dedicated to a stage previewing the forthcoming "Ultimate Alliance" video game. Brand cultures at ComicCon? One booth was selling collectible "Subservient Chicken" toys, while the Marvel booth offered a free first issue of a comic focusing on the adventures of the M & M spokes-candies. None of these
Henry Jenkins is the co-founder of the MIT Comparative Media Studies Program. 
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