(Somewhat belated) Comic-Con Wrap-up

We went, we saw, we were exhausted.

Actually, we did pretty well this year. Having had several years' experience to learn what is and is not possible at Comic-Con, my boyfriend and I managed to maintain some Zen over the weekend. Which is to say I freaked out over non-essentials only three times, my boyfriend only expressed the wish to kill about ten people with his bare hands, and we managed to settle our one major quarrel with a solution acceptable to all of us (he stayed in room 6CDEF to watch Mutant Wars, and I trekked up Fifth Street to meet our friends at an Irish pub; everyone was happier that way).

As usual, the Convention Center was filled to capacity; walking from room to room was often the most frustrating part, unless you tried to walk around on the exhibition floor, which was worse. I still got into every panel I actually stood in line for, though I did give up on Heroes before I even got to the Convention Center that morning, and we skipped the screening of Doctor Horrible's Singalong Blog when we heard that they'd closed the line for it three hours before it started (in retrospect, I'm not sure that was true, but we'd already seen it anyway and we were tired after watching The Next Avengers movie, so we headed back to the hotel).

Of the panels I did see, the Dr. Horrible one - featuring Joss Whedon, Neil Patrick Harris, Nathan Fillion, Felicia Day, Simon Helberg, Jed and Zach Whedon, and Melissa Tancharoen - was definitely the highlight of the convention. It was pretty much a "you had to be there" kind of thing, although I will say that NPH and Nathan Fillion were unremittingly hilarious. I laughed almost the entire time. I think somebody posted the whole thing on YouTube if you want to look for it, but really - you had to be there. And I will never think about Twittering the same way again.

The lowlight would have to be the Twilight panel. I admit that I haven't read the books, but several of my friends enjoyed them, and the excerpt I read on Amazon seemed intriguing. Also, the movie has been getting a decent amount of buzz in geek circles, and I wanted to get in on the ground floor. So I got in line about an hour before the panel started, with a few thousand fans. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd make it in, but it didn't turn out to be a problem. Once in, I found myself surrounded by tween girls and middle-aged women, all of whom seemed to labor under the misapprehension that this was the first time anyone had ever been so devoted a fan of anything. (Harry Potter, anyone? Lord of the Rings? The original fandom - Trekkies? Wearing a "Team Edward" t-shirt does not require the same level of commitment as joining Vader's Fist, little girl. I don't care how much you loved the books.) Sadly, the fans were not the low point. That honor belonged to the panelists. Catherine Hardwicke, erstwhile director of such hard-edged fare as Thirteen, giggled nearly as much as her cast. Kristen Stewart, playing Bella, was more interested in speaking sotto voce to her castmates than in answering questions into the microphone. Robert Pattinson, playing Edward, appeared tongue-tied for most of it, stalling for time by running his hand through his absurdly cut, longish hair. Every time he did this (ten at least), eighty percent of the room screamed and swooned. When there was a brief lull in audience questions, the moderator said "Any more questions?" and a woman in the row behind me muttered, "Yes. Are you all drunk?" It was the wittiest sentence spoken in the panel. They showed footage (the climactic vampire battle in a dance studio, a fourteen-year-old girl told me later); it was slow and uninspired. All in all - thumbs down. I know the tweens will vilify me (the fourteen-year-old did; I placated her with my free double-sided Twilight poster), but honestly, it looked like schlock. And I hear that the final book, which came out a week later, has disappointed many with its decidedly unfeminist conclusion. I hate to appear (openly) prejudiced, but I have to say I always had my doubts about a vampire series written by a Mormon housewife. Go watch some Buffy, little girls. Or at least read Interview with a Vampire. It may be schlock, but at least it's intricate, philosophical schlock.

I also saw the panel for Dollhouse panel, in which Eliza Dushku flirted shamelessly with Tahmoh Penikett and talked about hunting. Funny, but not as funny as Dr. Horrible. Battlestar Galactica showed some kickass footage and also boasted a good-natured, intelligent cast (best line, James Callis: "I had to think, is it possible for someone to be a deeply spiritual person and at the same time a raging nymphomaniac? And the answer is, yes.") Sadly, Jamie Bamber is the only man I've ever seen made LESS sexy by an English accent. Weird, huh? The Watchmen panel was thoughtful and interesting, with each of the actors talking expressively about the motivations for their characters - I have high hopes. The Spirit panel managed to be informative and intelligent without actually telling me what the plot is, which was confusing. Although Samuel L. Jackson was unsurprisingly brilliant (best line: "When I was growing up, Nick Fury was a white guy. It just goes to show that in America you CAN be anything you want to be. You too can grow up to be a black man").

And there was more. We missed the Masquerade (third year in a row. Damnit, I am going to that next year!), but I caught most of the replay the next day. More on that in a later post. We managed not to eat dinner in the convention hall at all - turns out there's a restaurant in the Marriott next door. Only a couple of bucks more expensive, and way better food. I donated blood as usual, and was excited to find out my blood type (weirdly, none of my doctors ever mentioned it). I am the deeply rare AB negative, which I think is cool, although I can't really explain why. I guess I just like feeling special. I got swag and more swag. (I've now consolidated it to one small corner of my bedroom. Anyone desperate for a limited-edition Chief Tyrol BSG action figure that looks uncannily like Forrest DeWitt should make me an offer.)

And then we returned to our non-insane real lives. I want to go back now. Two weeks of living in the real world (and attending my real job) have depressed me. But I forge on nonetheless.

Next task: finding a hotel for next year!

(All quotes are from the best of my memory and should not be considered verbatim. I took a notebook, but I mostly doodled in it. So sue me. You want news, try CNN.)