With the rumors of Comic-Con's move to Los Angeles squashed—the convention is officially staying in San Diego through 2018—we couldn't help but get a little defensive. We went down to San Diego this week all ready to spread the gospel of why LA kicks ass, so we're as surprised as anyone to come away thinking that Los Angeles is better off without Comic-Con... for now, at least.
Don't get us wrong: We want in on some of that Comic-Con cash money, which by most accounts pads San Diego's pockets with well over $100 million each year. But LA just isn't ready yet—or rather, the LA Convention Center isn't. The venue hosts far fewer major events in an area that houses a considerably smaller number of nearby hotel rooms than similar cities. People don't like LA—at least that's the typical buzz on the convention floor. That matters, especially since Comic-Con has spilled outside of the exhibit hall and into the surrounding city in recent years. Attendees would rather be anywhere other than that freeway-cornered patch of LA, and we can't blame them. Those oversized, concrete and parking lot-filled blocks feel so disconnected from the energy that's swept across the rest of Downtown; they're just begging for a few trees and more than a couple of decent places to eat and drink.
Let's compare that to San Diego, where flowers drape off the side of a convention center that sits between a sparkling bay and a pristine skyline. The setting makes the idea of camping out for those popular Hall H panels slightly less maddening. Meanwhile, Downtown San Diego couldn't feel more welcoming to the 130,000-plus attendees as bars paint superheroes over their windows, Starbucks uses the force to become "Star Bucks" and neighboring hotels roll out everything from photo ops to a Captain Kirk shoeshine. Plus, the bridge-and-tunnel vibe in the Gaslamp Quarter is perfectly equipped to handle a crowd that's on its own version of spring break.
That's not to say San Diego is perfect. Comic-Con is spread across the city because the exhibit hall literally can't contain all of the programming. Narrow, partially-closed streets and the most inconveniently placed set of train tracks grind foot traffic to a crawl. If there's ever a moment we're thankful for LA's grotesquely wide streets, it's during mass migrations in and out of the San Diego Convention Center.
We don't want Comic-Con now and we're not sure we want it in 2019. But after that? We could be looking at a redesigned convention center with more floor space, its own hotel and a freshened up aesthetic that isn't so sterile. Downtown LA, if it continues its upward climb, won't be the butt of jokes by then. There'll be more hotels not named the Ace as spots like the Wilshire Grand Tower and the massive Metropolis project across the street wrap up construction. And Downtown will be even more transit-friendly when Metro's rail line-bridging Regional Connector—well, dammit, we still have to wait until at least 2020 for that.
We're satisfied right now with E3, Comikaze and Anime Expo, along with D23 and Comic-Con's sister fest WonderCon over in Anaheim. But Comic-Con could definitely be that final gem in the Infinity Gauntlet—we just need to earn it.
Meanwhile, check out some of the costumes we saw at Comic-Con this year.