2016 Central Canada Comic Con kicks off

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 28/10/2016 (3297 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

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Hours before the most eye-popping event in Manitoba even started, the Convention Centre buzzed with all sorts of wonders.

Already there were the wild outfits, and unorthodox hair colours. A Klingon stalked towards an elevator, his shoulders covered by black braids. On the floor below, Batman spun his velvet cape towards the ticket counter, then circled back to wait.

Upstairs, Wonder Woman and her family sat down for lunch near the Convention Centre cafeteria. She patted the arm of the child next to her, swaddled in head-to-toe armour: a pint-sized doppelganger for video game hero Commander Shepherd.

Finally, at 2 p.m., the lines began to surge forward. With that, the doors to Central Canada Comic Con, which kicked off Friday and runs through to 6 p.m. on Sunday, were officially open.

Of all the marquee events in the province, few quite so perfectly illustrate the curious contradictions of our culture. From a humble beginning, C4 has exploded into a major tourism draw, and one of the most wildly popular gatherings in Manitoba.

That would have been hard to imagine in 1995, when the convention launched as the River City Collector’s Expo. Back then, it was a weekend hub for sports card, antiques and comic book vendors; for years, it squeezed into mundane hotel spaces.

By 2008, the tide was swelling. That year, the event — then known as Manitoba Comic Con — moved into the Convention Centre. Almost 16,000 people turned out to sprawling event headlined by actor Lou Ferrigno, the original Incredible Hulk.

Three years later, on the strength of a guest roster that included iconic Star Trek actors Jonathan Frakes and William Shatner, the newly-minted Central Canada Comic Con welcomed over 27,000 people. In the five years since, it snowballed further.

Now, the 2016 edition could be poised to smash last year’s record of over 48,000 attendees. And as C4 solidifies into one of the most significant cultural shindigs in Manitoba, it’s worth pausing to consider the question: what exactly does that mean?

For dedicated fans, the question is a no-brainer. The magic of conventions such as C4 is in how they blend discovery and nostalgia; attendees can revel in media they’ve enjoyed as adults, or wrap themselves in lingering warmth from childhood.

A few years ago, I wrote about my emotional experience meeting one of my own heroes, actor Patrick Stewart, at the 2012 edition of Central Canada Comic Con. It remains one of my life highlights, the closing of a circle that opened long ago.

Yet for those unintiated into fan-con culture, the fervency with which fans approach an event centered around comics, cartoons and kitsch is harder to grasp. (Quoth a Free Press colleague, who shall remain nameless: “I don’t get it.”)

To be sure, lightsaber duels aren’t for everyone. Neither is a demonstration of quidditch, the flying broomsport from the Harry Potter novels. (It has been adapted to a popular intercollegiate sport and an elite organized rank, Major League Quidditch.)

But culture is changing. Media streams that were once considered the tentpoles of avowed geekdom are now firmly established in the mainstream. Video gaming, for instance, is a multibillion-dollar global industry, rich with innovation.

The thriving Marvel superhero universe now rakes in billions; by the end of 2015, Marvel movies had cashed $7.7 billion USD in the U.S. alone. (That was before the release of 2016 blockbusters X-Men: Apocalypse and Captain America: Civil War)

So perhaps what still confounds some is not how popular these formats are; it’s the manner in which fans relate to them.

What conventions such as C4 create is a real-life space in which fandom becomes more than just an interest; it signifies belonging. Online forums have done that since the Internet began, but in conventions they blossom even further.

The costumes, the panels, the lines for autograph sessions: these are all rituals of group belonging. They are, in a way, declarations of independence from a mainstream which arbitrarily categorizes certain expressions as unusual, even strange.

To put it another way: to virtually everyone in our society, a guy in a Jets jersey is just a fan of the game. A guy dressed up in tribute to a favourite video game character will get notably more skeptical reception. But at C4, they’re all the same.

Over time, this freedom has enabled the convention circuit — a hierarchy of sorts, with mega-events such as San Diego Comic Con at the top — to create a true culture, with their own terminology, traditions and even unique celebrity machinery.

Take cosplay, for instance. This year, C4 is flying in nine celebrity cosplayers; these are folks who make a living travelling the world and appearing in stunning character costumes. One of them, Yaya Han, even stars in her own comic book series.

On the convention floor, the razzle-dazzle of the costumes instills that sense of wonder. It’s all in good fun. Most of all, the creative boundaries of regular life can fall away: come as you are, or as you dream of being. At C4, it’s all okay.

 

melissa.martin@freepress.mb.ca