Moments before entering the Walter E. Washington Convention Center for my first ever Awesome Con experience, I noticed a man walking ahead of me dressed as The Joker. This was not the first cosplayer I encountered, nor would it be the last, but what struck me was how otherworldly this man appeared. He had chosen to model his look after Jack Nicholson in Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman, but the purple of his suit was a blinding, bright tone, a color so unique it made him pop out of his surroundings. He seemed like a Kenner action figure come to life and there was something genuinely discomfiting about being in his presence.
Then out of nowhere, a man driving up Ninth Street yelled out “Aye yo, Joker!” before asking for a picture. The Joker happily obliged, sauntering to the man’s car with glee. Before this shrill exclamation, I had allowed myself to forget the real world existed, if only for a moment.
Perhaps that’s what Awesome Con is all about.
This was the fifth year the convention has graced the District with its presence, and it was the biggest event yet, with a deeper cast of big-name special guests (among them Doctor Who‘s David Tennant) and more attendees. The DMV is no stranger to great shows for comics fans—the Small Press Expo is a must-see every fall—but with Awesome Con, D.C. finally has a convention in line with premiere events like the monolithic San Diego Comic-Con.
“Awesome Con is a comic con the way only D.C. could do it,” founder Ben Penrod explained. “Whether it’s our partnership with the Smithsonian, which came on board for this year’s Future Con; our incredibly diverse roster of guests, artists, and presenters; or even our family-focused events, I feel like we’ve been able to put together a fantastic event that could only exist in D.C.”
This weekend, the Charlotte Convention Center in North Carolina hosted HeroesCon, which positions itself as more purely devoted to the world of comics. But Awesome Con, with its dedication to big name celebs and embracing a wider parameter of nerd pastimes, opens a wider umbrella for geekdom in popular culture. Making room for gamers and all manner of animation and crafting, Awesome Con seems is designed not just for fans of specific media, but for an audience to whom “being a geek” has become a lifestyle, not a hobby.
Comic conventions were once these special, safe spaces for fans to congregate and share in their love for superheroes, sci-fi and whatever other ephemera they chose to highlight. But look around you. None of those interests are as much of a niche as they once were. Not knowing who The Avengers are seems a lot weirder now than it did in the past.
While trying to find a friend and meandering through the Artist Alley, I passed a pair of older men and couldn’t help but overhear a bit of their conversation.
“Have you heard of this show, The Big Bang Theory?” One asked other. “Do you know who Wil Wheaton is?”
Innocuous as these questions may have been, we would have had to search pretty damn hard to find anyone present who didn’t know the answer. (Wil Wheaton was, it should be noted, about a three minute walk away.)
Between Marvel’s never ending reign in Hollywood and all the other ways geek culture has taken the mainstream by storm, Awesome Con doesn’t just feel like visiting a temporary paradise for diehards. It’s like the aftermath of a culture war that raged in the countryside—and which the nerds won. For these victors, Awesome Con was like a weekend-long homecoming.
As such, the convention center was littered with spoils. The exhibitor floor, typically reserved for retailers to sell back issues of hard-to-find comics, expensive statues based on fantasy novels and the like, now shares its space with all manner of Funko Pop resellers and merch depots hawking mash-up culture propaganda. Imagine post-war Berlin, but instead of contraband, a black market made up largely of t-shirts with Deadpool & Rick Sanchez riding the DeLorean from Back To The Future into a TARDIS. It’s like someone trapped Tumblr in an amulet, then shattered it on the corner of 9th and M streets.
It’s impossible to walk more than a few paces without seeing someone dressed in costume. Within my first hour, I’d seen six Rose Quartzes from Steven Universe, a dozen Batmen, and enough Ghostbusters to form a small army. My one regret, outside of not dressing up myself, was not making Doctor Who Bingo cards. Nearly every face The Doctor ever wore was represented somewhere on the show floor, although I didn’t see any Jon Pertwees or Sylvester McCoys. It’s the kind of place where you can see Dr. Horrible and Carmen Sandiego on a date and not think twice.
Although it’s clear the geeks won the war, it doesn’t mean that X-Men fans are suddenly a benevolent ruling class. Conventions are still plagued by the kind of exclusionary bullying D&D players have decried jocks for since childhood, but Awesome Con made great lengths to be an inclusive experience for all walks of life.
Gender neutral restrooms and all the progressive programming at Pride Alley were welcome additions, as was the con’s staunchly anti-harassment policy that hopefully stemmed the tide against strangers sexualizing women for dressing like Batgirl. And while we won’t pretend to have conducted a scientific census of con-goers, the crowds certainly felt more diverse.
If there’s one group of people Awesome Con may have neglected, its aging writers with bum knees who are averse to walking in circles trying to make it on time to a panel. The convention used a great deal of floor space, which is great, but at times it felt too sprawling.
That said, if you really wanted to understand why Awesome Con is so special, just find a kid—just watch children wandering the floor with their folks to see the unbridled wonderment in their eyes.
Grown-ups may squawk at paying $10 for a cup of rip-off Dippin’ Dots or struggle to find a easy place to vape, but seeing young girls light up at the sight of Wonder Woman’s costume, or a little boy hugging a Ninja Turtle? That’s Awesome Con.
