Otaku Documentary- Swampcon Replacement
“If your culture doesn’t like geeks, you are in real trouble.”
I definitely won’t go into detail of how intensely I mourned the cancellation of Swampcon, even wondering how “bad” COVID-19 really was, much like Madarame breaking his wrist at the doujinshi convention in Genshiken. However, this documentary, albeit a bit dated, encapsulated the mindset behind American anime fan culture quite candid and truthfully. The experience was particularly enhanced by being able to watch it with my classmates, which was truly a barrel of laughs. This documentary violently coerced me into fondly reminiscing on my early days of fandom, at the ripe old age of 12.
       To begin, the documentary starts by clarifying the definition of “otaku”, defined by Americans specifically. Although it gave many of these definitions, I felt as though it could have better explained why the anime community is so dispersed on the subject, explaining its denotation, connotation, and reclamation in Japan, much further than “that otaku serial killer”. As we know, the Miyazaki Incident has been described as “the exception that proves the rule” on the supposed societal danger of Japanese otaku, and I feel that the documentary could have provided more structure to itself by describing the Japanese atmosphere surrounding otaku through what Japanese fans think, as well as through background on the incident. This would provide a much clearer reason why some Japanese people differ from other Japanese people, and why some Americans differ from other Americans on this peculiar label for this specific social phenomena. Drawing from personal experience, I first embraced anime around January or February of 2013, when I was halfway through 6th grade. When this happened, I had recently gotten my first laptop for the previous Christmas, and was of course, entirely unsupervised. When I had became involved in various anime communities through social media, my first encounter with “otaku” was not with a positive connotation. It was described as someone who was ignorant to actual Japanese culture, and misusing a word that was actually “very derogatory” in Japan. That’s what I stuck with and believed until this class, where I learned that the question of otaku was far more complex. Thus, I feel that although they could have given a little more intercultural context, the use of interviews in the documentary was probably the best thing to do in order to display the wide variety of opinions on this matter.
       The second part of the documentary went into a subgroup of American self-proclaimed otaku, the cosplayersCosplaying is a way in which fans are able to “take possession” of their obsessions, as described in Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals. It is interesting to note the pattern of who is interested in cosplay- it is often a lot of people that are involved in standing out somehow in their day to day lives, cosplayers are often fans of theatre or acting, as well as many other creative pursuits that involve a lot of work and talent. It’s also interesting to note that there are cosplayers who seem to be the opposite of this, almost a sort of alter ego, being timid in normal life, and outgoing at conventions. This displays the goal of cosplay- standing out and recognition. This isn’t as simple as cosplayers being any sort of “attention whores” as one interviewee said, but there is instead a wide variety of recognition that a cosplayer can receive, only one of them being “attention”. . The cosplayer that was interviewed through her whole process, focused on receiving recognition for her cosplay through winning a cosplay contest. Many other cosplayers seek it through how many people want to take pictures with/of their cosplay, and others through verbal compliments. The purest form of reaching this goal is taking pride in one’s own hard work- whether that work came through making the cosplay from scratch, or working to save up money to buy the cosplay, paying attention to all of the details. These are all forms of recognition, and many cosplayers combine them for their satisfaction. There is a form of fan discrimination that was overlooked in the documentary, concerning the cosplay community. Cosplayers that make their own cosplays tend to look down upon those that buy theirs. This is of course wrong, as they ignore that purchased cosplays are often significantly less complex costumes, and these “buyers” will still make things that they can’t find premade. It’s not taking an easy way out, but making use of the resources one is presented with, so that one can save time or money that could be spent on other cosplays or pursuits. From personal experience, I started truly cosplaying in 2014, and since then I’ve made 3 cosplays, and bought the others. Although I know that buying and making one’s cosplays are equally good, I’ve still internalized this fan discrimination. If someone asks if I made the cosplay I’m wearing, my “I bought it” is much more sheepish than it should be. It’s set in this community that making your cosplay dispenses more shadow cultural capital than buying it, for arbitrary reasons.
Fan discrimination such as this is seen in many facets of the American otaku community, and the idea of a flawlessly unified community as described in Part 3 of the documentary is very much a simulacra. The fan discrimination is reality, the idea of unity that people describe is the simulation, and perpetuating this onto outsiders watching the documentary, as well as new fans, providing an image of “nerds of a feather” that is spread even further and perpetuated by media, is the simulacra.
This is not to say that this idea of fan friendship is a tasteless sham, as nearly all of the friends I have to this day were made through the anime community, and the same can be said for lots of others.
I even pondered earlier that when I get married someday, my friend Brianna (she goes to another school, you don’t know her) could easily play a significant part in that. I chuckled to myself, since I never would have truly met her if not for our younger selves’ fervent interest in Axis Powers: Hetalia. This community, although filled with gaining possession of one’s obsession, stigmas and simulacrum, can easily seep into reality. Black Butler can turn into a real life bridesmaid.
Thus, the interpretations made by these interviewees aren’t perfect, but aren’t entirely inaccurate, either. As with any element of culture which dispenses capital, there is bound to be advantages and disadvantages. However, it is nearly miraculous how such a young community in the United States has more than made up for it’s lost time, I believe anime in the United States is passing from the popular subculture into the popular culture, a trend I noticed (although do not credit to) when I experienced the great successes of Attack on Titan and My Hero Academia.
