Columbus Monthly / October 2010 / A weekend with Kakashi Hatake

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A weekend with Kakashi Hatake

For a few days, a Worthington hotel was overtaken by Japanese animation fans dressed as their favorite characters while attending a rave and panels on, say, a 17th-century philosopher. Go figure.

A lanky teenage boy languidly shuffles through the lobby of the Doubletree hotel in Worthington, the bottom half of his face covered by a dark blue cotton mask that fits firmly over the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing a green flak jacket, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and dark blue pants. Atop his head is a spiky, silver wig held in place by a bandanna with a metal plate across the front, a swirly insignia etched in the middle.

Those who know anything about popular Japanese animation (“anime,” for short) would immediately recognize that this boy is supposed to be Kakashi Hatake, a highly skilled ninja on the hit series “Naruto.” Those unfamiliar with anime probably would be just as clueless as the other hotel guests are about why he and hundreds of others have dressed up as characters from their favorite programs and movies. They stand at the registration desk, looking curiously, their eyebrows knitted in confusion as they check in. Am I in the right place? Did Halloween come early this year? Who are these people?

Unfortunately, these guests have picked the wrong August weekend for a relaxing stay at the Doubletree, which is teeming with high school-aged kids, college students and young professionals attending the anime convention MatsuriCon. This gathering, like the hundreds of other events that go on across the country throughout the year, caters to fans of all things anime and, by extension, Japanese culture itself. It’s one of the three major anime conventions in Central Ohio (the others are Ohayocon and Anime Punch!) and part of a growing network of happenings throughout the state.

The event draws attendees from as far away as Florida for three days of discussion, dissection and declarations of love for all aspects of the anime industry and Japanese life. Want to learn about the history of “Robotech,” one of the first anime series to be broadcast on network television in the United States? There’s a panel for that. How about a stimulating discussion on the 17th-century philosopher/swordsman Miyamoto Musashi? There’s a panel for that, too. Even those who just want to gush about characters from their favorite shows are taken care of at MatsuriCon: fan panels, academic-level discussions on symbolism in anime and workshops on independent filmmaking, web-based comics and storytelling, among many other things. And the action extends into the evening, including a rave with deejays spinning Japanese pop tunes and music from video games and other genres for four hours of nonstop dancing.

“It’s a fandom experience,” says John Hoelscher, a 31-year-old computer programmer from Dayton and a member of the convention committee. “Kind of like a sports trade show, but for Japanese cartoons and video games.”

And that experience is made even more over-the-top by the costume role-playing (better known as “cosplay”), with convention attendees wearing outfits that represent their favorite characters. A hairy-legged man walks by in form-fitting yellow shorts and a yellow tank top with Pikachu, a character from the “Pokémon” series, on the front. There are so many Narutos in the crowd one can easily lose count amid the sea of orange sweat suits. There are nonanime cosplayers, too. Two boys strut around like peacocks in army fatigues similar to those in the video game Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. A boy who looks to be about 18 is decked out in cardboard boxes painted red, white and blue to look like Optimus Prime from the “Transformers.” A young woman perched on a counter near the main ballroom is covered in blue body paint from head to toe, an homage to Neytiri, the lead female character in James Cameron’s Avatar.

Anyone walking into this scene with no knowledge of anime conventions would likely call this a hobby taken too far. But for those involved, it’s more like a way of life.

Gahanna resident Ashley Potochnik would probably agree with that sentiment. She’s standing in the middle of Artist Alley, a cluster of tables in the lobby where vendors sell everything from T-shirts and amateur character sketches to bookmarks and jewelry. She’s cosplaying Edward Elric, one of the lead characters in “Fullmetal Alchemist,” a show about two young boys trying to reverse the dire consequences of their attempt to bring their mother back to life. Potochnik’s wearing a red jacket and her brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail like Elric’s. One of her hands is painted silver to depict his metal arm. “This place represents every nerd stereotype there is!” she shouts to her friends.

Cosplaying and attending anime conventions is a lifestyle, says Cole Ford, a 27-year-old sophomore at the University of Akron. Ford, a member of MatsuriCon’s security team this year, says that he occasionally feels uncomfortable talking about cosplay and anime with those who aren’t into it, but it’s a different story when he’s attending conventions. “You have to bottle it up when you go outside of your house, but when you’re here, you can be free,” he adds.

This fact isn’t lost on Jeff Vargo, who’s here with his daughter, Gabrielle. The 50-year-old is decked out as Shunsui, a soul reaper from the program “Bleach,” right down to the flowery pink overcoat and straw hat. Gabrielle, 13, is dressed as Urahara, who’s also a soul reaper on the show. “When you’re out doing your own thing, it’s a subculture,” he says. “But when you come here, it’s a lot of people with a common interest.”

Vargo, who owns an engraving business in Youngstown, says they started going to conventions in June after spending nine years watching different anime shows together. “I used to go to tattoo conventions and now I go to these,” he quips. “It’s actually quite similar.”

He seems to be the only parent enthusiastically participating in the event. Those attending with younger children escort them from panel to panel, keeping close watch. Other parents congregate in the lobby, lounging on plush leather chairs and reading books they brought along for the day. One of the book-toting moms calls MatsuriCon “the Star Wars convention of the 21st century.”

Kathy Davis of Danville, Indiana, has been to 20 conventions across Ohio and Indiana with her 17-year-old daughter, Krissy, who started to watch anime about four years ago. She’s a pro on the convention circuit, so she’s unfazed by the swirl of activity around her. “One day, she said, ‘Mom, they have conventions and I’d like to go to one,’ ” she says. “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Davis says she isn’t exactly a fan, but watching anime with her daughter has made her appreciate it a bit more. However, what she doesn’t appreciate are the older fans. “It’s good for teens and early 20s,” she explains. She wrinkles up her nose. “If they’re any older than that, I wonder what they’re doing here.”

For the small percentage of MatsuriCon attendees who are out of college and part of the “real world,” this mindset is the norm. “In Asian countries, everyone watches anime,” says Kevin McKeever, marketing coordinator for Robotech.com. “But in the United States, people think if it’s animated, it’s for children.”

In his panel, “Do Anime Conventions Have a Future?” he tells a roomful of older fans that their younger counterparts typically lose interest in anime by the end of their teen years. McKeever, who thinks of conventions as grass-roots marketing for anime shows, says this trend will be the death of the anime industry—and the conventions that support it—if industry insiders don’t figure out a way to turn younger fans into older ones.

A few days after MatsuriCon, Hoelscher crunches the numbers and concludes that around 1,500 people showed up for the event. Not bad for a convention that started with fewer than 300 attendees in its first year (2005). It also raised more than $1,600 for charity, which will go to the Ohio State University Medical Center for cancer research.

While Hoelscher acknowledges that his interest in anime isn’t for everyone, he hopes that the money his convention brings into the region is an example of the power of the genre. “I do tell anyone who thinks negatively about anime or anime conventions to just keep an open mind,” he says.

Aiesha Little is a freelance writer based in Cincinnati.