So, the problem with a character like Sherlock Holmes is that you can, in theory, take any element of him and run with it until you have a two-hour movie. It’s just – it’s a plan. As evidenced above, it’s not a GOOD plan, but it’s a plan.

(Related: I didn’t remember that Sherlock Holmes dodged quite so many explosions. Learn something every day!)

Also, Rachel McAdams should be famous enough by now to be allowed to wear clothes in the preview, right?

It’s not even that I’m a purist – I thorougly enjoyed the remake with Rupert Everett and Ian Hart and Michael Fassbender and Perdita Weeks and Rachel Hurd-Wood in it. It was well-made, and it’s really useful for Awesome British Actor Camp bingo. But for real, even with all the liberties they took, there was not a lot of useless slow motion and running-from-explosions.

I know Guy Ritchie has a pretty small bag of tricks, but damn.

“Then I was all like, I’ll go to Comic Con Saturday, the busiest day, that’s not overwhelming or ill-advised whatsoever! Awesome!”

SATURDAY

Things people dove for: Light-up She-Ra tiaras, inflatable He-Man swords, Don’t Panic hand towels, Sherrilyn Kenyon books which the booth people were pushing on people like they were broccoli with about as much success.

Best Costume: The girls advertising Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire, who had vaguely Xena get-ups that they clearly hated. They wandered around in a little clump, groaning and tugging at their chain mail between bouts of smiling card-pushing. Gotta make the bucks. I salute you, Krod Mandoon PR personnel.

(Yeah, I’ll probably watch an episode of this and see how it goes. Yeah, I’ll probably regret it.)

Number of Jokers: 3,292

Number of Rorschachs: 16,392

Worst costume: Man, this is tough. I’m going to go with the person dressed as the Grim Reaper whose scythe was a big dowel with a rectangular piece of cardboard attached. A scythe dripping blood was drawn on the cardboard rectangle. In crayon.

Second worst costume: Dear attention-seeking young women of the world – black leotard, fishnets, and black boots is rarely a costume. If you are trying to be Zatanna, you will need a tux jacket and top hat. If you are trying to be Black Cat, you will need a white wig and some furry white gauntlets (and some sleeves). If you are trying to be Black Canary, you need a turtleneck leotard and some oversize black gloves. If you are trying to be Storm circa that weird period where she had a mohawk and fell in love with Forge for no reason, you will need a leather jacket and the mohawk and a huge and uncharacteristic guilt complex over being able to make it rain. I am not even a comics nerd and I know this stuff. Don’t be lazy, attention-seeking young women. To wear generic leotards is questionable; to cosplay well, divine.

The smell: Jokes are made about fanboy funk. Every single one of those jokes came from here.

What I will remember most for next year: Upon entering Comic Con, people become utterly unable to use either motor skills or manners. I live in New York City and commute during rush hour, and in the last six months I have not been jostled so much as I was during my one day at Comic Con. I had a small briefcase-y bag I kept tucked under one arm, and that was IT. No tote bags, nothing. I still had people gunning for me like I had a screen-print of Tahmoh Penikett on my back. If one more person banged into me without excusing themselves, I was gonna slap somebody.

How you can tell I’m eighty: Seriously, how hard is it to say, “Oh, excuse me”? If people under twenty-five try to use it, do their throats painfully contract?

Worst panel: the Sci-Fi and Fantasy Author Roundtable. Firstly, for all the reasons I list in my Tor.com column. Secondly, because of the five women, it was Tamora Pierce and four urban fantasy/paranormal romance authors. Way to diversify!

Best panel: See Sunday.

Better than last year?: Yes. Occasionally you ran into someone you knew, and it was like seeing an old friend while you’re both in the middle of a hostage situation at a bank. Sure, you could be doomed at any moment, but hey, good to see you!

(I did actually have a good time, thanks to some beautiful art I caught in the Artists’ Alley, a couple of panels that went really well and were funny and interesting, and my good luck to run into and talk to a lot of awesome people – run into them metaphorically speaking, kids-with-no-manners.)

SUNDAY

Joss provides this answer at a panel, giving me an early birthday present (thanks to Tor.com for the transcription):

Q: Tahmoh, you play two characters, Helo and Paul, that have very strong moral compasses. Do you ever find yourself asking, what would Helo do? Like, “Oh man, I didn’t save anyone from genocide today!”
TP: Not really….I think of them as very different people. Paul [his FBI agent on Dollhouse] prefers to work alone, always. I just wonder what happened to him that he became so mistrusting.
JW: You let Baltar on the shuttle, that’s what!
TP: One day Paul is going to wake up from a nightmare going, “Oh my god, I was on a spaceship, sleeping with a robot.”
JW: What would Helo do? Hm, Grace Park!

Thank you, Joss, for jumping in to answer to a question that nobody asked you, and throwing in a totally unnecessary, unrelated, and sleazy comment that’s not even about the character, but about the actress. Every time people ask what it is I don’t like about you, I can just point to this quote. You have saved me hundreds of words in this lifetime. Much appreciated.

Will I go next year?: I’ll tell you what will happen. I’ll read through this, and then I’ll go anyway, and I will have no one to blame but myself. It’ll be fun! Watch this space!

Directed by Andrew Niccol, the film is set in a border town in the near future, but story details are vague. Bloom will play a man seeking to be the first person to cross a mysterious border. Cassel will play a border guard determined to stop him, and Kurylenko is simply “the female lead.”

Best summation of Hollywood I’ve seen in a long time.

I’m talking about The Fifth Element over at Tor.com today, because it’s usually the first movie I watch every year. Mainly because I love a sci-fi hero who’s like, “Can I get more roses on my black velvet jumpsuit? I just feel like right now it’s so….subdued.”

Then I watch movies all day long on January 1 because I’m 1) a movie nerd and 2) a big lump.

Probable choices:

Strange Days, though to be fair this usually has to happen on New Year’s Eve so you can watch in real time as Ralph Fiennes shoves his tongue against Angela Basset’s tonsils. (Not even kidding! It looks like that kiss from Top Secret when Val Kilmer sticks his tongue in his own cheek and rolls it around!) Plus, you can’t watch this movie in daylight; it shines through all the plot holes.

After Fifth Element, it’s Soapdish. Why? Because it’s two things I like: peppy, and cheap. Peppy and cheap.

Then Cold Comfort Farm, aka Awesome British Actor Camp, because it’s what I were always made for.

Once it’s dark (which is what, 3pm?) it’s THE WARRIORS OH MY GOD. I have purposely not watched this movie in three months to save it up for New Year’s, and I am more excited than a sixteen-year-old waiting for a Robert Pattinson poster signing at Hot Topic.

YOU GUYS, HAPPY NEW YEAR.

You guys, it was awfultastic. I lasted about forty-five seconds, and that was all I needed to see.

The good news is: if you didn’t think Christmas was good the first time, it’s never too late for a do-over as long as it’s Twilight stuff!

For The Special Girl in Your Viewfinder: a tee that tells her why you care enough to rent that cherry picker all the time.

For The Man You’ll Regret Marrying by the Time You’re Twenty: a pair of rings that reminds you of your place any time you feel like having an opinion.

For Your Child Who’s Probably Going to Resent You Anyway: might as well!

Yes, these are actual items. I don’t know what to tell you.

In better news, what I actually got for Christmas:

* A pair of loafers. They’re orthopedic. (What? Your arches aren’t gonna support themselves! See you when I’m eighty, suckers!)

My family is super pragmatic and tends to give totally unsurprising and useful gifts. My sister got a wind-up radio/flashing help signal for her trunk. It’s awesome.