Anime NYC 2021: Less Scary Than Otakon

But you can't half-ass on COVID

Anime NYC 2021: Less Scary Than Otakon
The spacious hall at the Javits Center a few hours after closing. Nobody wanted to leave.

Suddenly a lot of people are very interested in what went down at the anime convention Anime NYC, for some reason, and wow, I was just at that! I often write up my experiences at anime events! Maybe I should seize this opportunity! So yes, let’s get to it.

Like you, I want to return to normal. One of the things I liked to do in more normal times was hang out at anime conventions. They are fun! Anime is pretty mainstream now, but it’s always had its own weird subculture in the West. Being with your friends in a big public place that’s been completely taken over by “your people” feels like coming home, wherever that place may be.

I’ve really wanted to come back to that. So have my friends, as we’ve texted, voice-chatted, group-streamed pro wrestling, tried every way to be together while definitely not. We all really miss the convention, the way it was.

Big gatherings are a little scary right now, but I’m vaccinated and masked. I know my odds are low, so from last summer I’ve been dipping my toe in.

Otakon in August 2021. Not Anime NYC. I repeat, this is not a picture of Anime NYC.

I was at Otakon with 25,000 other anime fans in August. As far as I’m aware, no COVID cases came out of Otakon 2021. But without a vaccine test and no real COVID precautions to be seen other than a vaguely enforced mask policy, it felt a little off.

I have friends who did what they needed to do (a presentation, some shopping) and immediately escaped back to the hotel. I wasn’t too far off myself.

But Anime NYC was supposed to be a little different, which is funny, considering the reason I’m writing this now and the reason you might be reading it. The convention promised a vaccine mandate, wristbands for the vaccinated, and a mandatory mask policy. This sounded pretty good, especially after I got my booster.

Thursday evening vaccine check at ANYC. Five minutes tops.

It turned out a little differently. Anime NYC opened up its vaccine check on the Wednesday and Thursday before the convention weekend. I bought my badge well in advance, showed up on Thursday, and I was done in five minutes. But that was part of the problem.

In order to deal with the crowds (ANYC reported 55,000 attendees), security at the Javits half-assed the vaccine check in the name of speed. The moment I raised my phone with the vaccine pass onscreen, I was okayed and wristbanded. People are supposed to scan the app and make sure the pass is valid, but they didn’t do this. Nobody in New York does, right now, so the check feels like TSA-style security theater rather than an actual solution to the problem. Though I don’t think a lot of people would have bothered, you could have easily have gotten wristbanded with nothing more than a screenshot on your phone. After seeing the process, I wasn’t about to take off my mask.

Early Friday line for ANYC. Long before we knew someone caught COVID there, the convention was becoming infamous among con-goers for a massive, poorly managed, hours-long line

The real problem came afterwards. Perhaps it had to do with the additional step of vaccine check, but the line at Anime NYC was, to put it gently, an incompetent clusterfuck. Badge or not, vaccine or not, everyone who came to the Javits on Friday was thrown into the same miles-long line outside the building on a freezing cold weekend. Talking to the people on line and talking to the staff revealed that nobody knew what the hell was happening from one moment to the next. Many attendees reported waiting from 3 to even 5 hours.

Unwilling to catch cold— or worse, in retrospect— over logistical incompetence, I simply walked past the line and walked into the building, where I was greeted by a security officer who told me, yes, you have your badge and band, you can go right ahead, friend. Needless to say, the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing at this show, and I proceeded to walk past the line for two more days. I never skip lines— as a New York City bus rider, I in fact hold them sacred— but also, screw this.

Then I waited in another long line to see some virtual Youtubers— this is when a regular person uses a webcam and some very advanced technology to transform into a lovable anime personality— but one of them woke up late or something, so I had to go before they got started. This is all regular anime convention stuff. We’re having a great time, here. I like Mumei, the one second from the right.

A guy waited forty minutes in line behind me, asked me to play Guilty Gear towards the end, then stormed off when I beat him. A lot of people wait in convention lines as a social thing.

Then I waited in line for an hour to buy a hat like the one the pirate girl May from Guilty Gear wears. Again, this is all very normal anime convention stuff and a good time. The Javits is massive, but if you think there was any social distancing going on at this point— if you believed that was possible— I have very bad news for you and it’s this picture of an average-sized anime convention crowd. I did get my hat, though.

It’s not so much a hat that fits onto the head as it is a giant plush mass that sits upon it

But I think you’re wondering more about COVID stuff. Well it’s too bad that you’ve got to put up with all my anime stuff to hear it! Masks were mandatory, and this policy was more widely observed than in most places I’ve been to. However, I did notice some mask fatigue among the participants around Sunday. Assuming they and everyone else in the building were vaccinated, quite a few people let their masks down or took them off. I thought this was reasonable, I just never did it myself.

On Twitter someone asked me about the pictures they saw of people eating at the convention, and I’d like to offer some context on that as well. The Javits Center is a difficult event location, and one of the biggest reasons is access to food and drink. You can buy tourist-priced food (I’m talking $12 hot dogs here) inside a cramped, packed cafeteria inside the building, or you can line up outside in the cold outside some tents for tourist-priced food.

If you want to eat a normal meal at a sane price, you need to walk at least a mile back to New York City proper. I bring a protein shake and a water bottle to the Javits, and I try to find safe, secluded spots to chug my lunch. But before you shame the people in the cafeteria, keep in mind that you don’t really have a choice at the Javits, and the Javits doesn’t seem to care much about that.

Anyway, have you ever seen Metal Skin Panic MADOX-01? It’s a (1987) comedy about an ordinary guy who gets stuck inside a military battle robot and goes on an out-of-control joyride around town, in a desperate bid to be on time for a date with his girlfriend. I think you’re gonna love it, so I embedded it for you to watch right now. We saw a new director’s cut of this film with director Shinji Aramaki— a man who will never turn down an invite to the States, even right now— in attendance. Also the guy who created Wizardry was there!! Whoa!

Here’s a car with custom art of my favorite character from Symphogear, an action opera about pop stars who fight while they sing

About 15 of my friends and I wound up at the Haymaker bar in Hell’s Kitchen for our after-convention dinner. The bartender did a better vaccine check than the convention did, so finally we felt safe taking our masks off indoors. I remember feeling free again, for a moment. Normal. And I remember a euphoria that I could just relax, have a drink and talk to the guys again.

I’ve realized that whatever happens with this huge insane thing that has devoured the world, that “getting back to normal” is not going to be a switch flipped. Just like the vaccine wasn’t. Just like June 2021 wasn’t.

It’s going to be a series of moments, little baby steps. And one day, if we live, we will make it to something like normal. I don’t know when that will be, but I’m starting to feel like those of us who can will have to pace cautiously towards it ourselves. I choose to do so, vaxed, boosted and tested, wearing my mask and my anime pirate hat.