San Diego Comic-Con. Just saying the name conjures images of superheroes, celebrity sightings, elaborate cosplay, exclusive merch drops, and fans camping out overnight just for a shot at Hall H glory. For decades, SDCC has been the pop culture event of the year — a Mecca for fans of comics, sci-fi, fantasy, television, movies, and everything in between. But in 2025, as the iconic convention celebrates another year, a question hangs heavy in the air: Is the hype still there, or are fans finally over it?

The truth is, SDCC is in the middle of a cultural crossroads. While attendance remains high and excitement surges across social media leading up to the July weekend, many longtime fans — and even members of the press — are beginning to ask: Who is Comic-Con really for now?

The Golden Years of Comic-Con

Once upon a time, SDCC was the underdog — a grassroots gathering of comic book enthusiasts, indie creators, and niche genre fans. It was a celebration of fandoms, filled with passionate people who just wanted to connect with their favorite creators, sneak a peek at upcoming projects, and maybe score a few rare collectibles.

Over the years, Hollywood moved in. Big studios took over the biggest ballrooms and brought with them high-stakes trailers, secret announcements, and A-list celebrities. Hall H became the holy grail, and the exclusivity only made it more desirable. SDCC had officially leveled up.

But now? Some say the glitz and glamour have overshadowed what once made Comic-Con special.

The Cost of Admission — Literally and Figuratively

Getting into San Diego Comic-Con in 2025 is no small feat. Tickets (or “badges,” as they’re called) are sold via an online lottery system — and unless you have luck on your side, you’re out. There’s no VIP pass, no trick, no hack. Even veteran attendees with years of experience have found themselves locked out of the process.

Then there’s the hotel situation. The infamous SDCC hotel lottery — lovingly known as “Hotelpocalypse” — is another nightmare. Fans have mere seconds to submit their requests for a chance at a reasonably priced hotel near the convention center. If you miss it or don’t win, you’re either paying a premium for distant accommodations or coughing up for overpriced Airbnb listings that capitalize on the event.

And let’s not forget travel costs, food, and the growing number of exclusives locked behind lotteries. Just walking through the doors can set fans back thousands of dollars — and that’s before they even buy anything.

The Hall H Hunger Games

Perhaps no element of SDCC is more emblematic of its growing inaccessibility than Hall H — the cavernous room where the biggest panels take place. Want to see the cast of Stranger ThingsAvengers 5The Mandalorian Season 4? That means camping out overnight. Possibly longer.

Sleeping bags and air mattresses line the waterfront as fans queue up for hours — sometimes days — for a chance at a seat. It’s become its own cultural phenomenon, but one that feels more grueling than fun. Those who don’t have the stamina, time, or physical ability to camp out are left behind.

In the pandemic era, when SDCC went virtual, fans were able to access major panels from the comfort of their homes. It felt inclusive. It felt modern. It felt fair. But since returning to in-person events, SDCC has largely shut the door on livestreams. And that’s left a bitter taste.

Livestream Nostalgia and the Pandemic Era Dream

Between 2020 and 2021, Comic-Con@Home gave fans the opportunity to watch panels on YouTube and participate in fan events remotely. Was it the same as being there in person? No. But for fans who couldn’t afford to travel, or those with disabilities or caregiving responsibilities, it was the most accessible SDCC had ever been.

For a brief moment, Comic-Con was for everyone. Anyone could watch Kevin Feige tease new Marvel projects. Anyone could see the cast of The Boys crack jokes during a panel. Anyone could be part of the pop culture conversation in real time.

Now, panels are shrouded in secrecy once more. Even footage shown in Hall H is rarely released online, and fan-recorded clips are usually taken down within hours. While some fans respect the desire to keep surprises special, others see it as blatant gatekeeping — a way to make in-person tickets feel more “premium” at the expense of the broader community.

Vendor Access: The Lottery Strikes Again

Even shopping isn’t simple anymore. Major vendors like Funko, Hasbro, and LEGO have moved to an online lottery system just to access their booths — and the system favors those who win badges early and enter the lottery fast.

Gone are the days when you could walk the floor, stumble across a cool item, and buy it. Now, many of the best collectibles are hidden behind velvet ropes and reservation codes. Fans walk past booths they can’t even step into. It adds to the growing feeling that SDCC is less about spontaneous discovery and more about being chosen by chance.

Press Passes and the Power of Influence

Even getting in as press is becoming harder. SDCC’s media approval process is incredibly strict, prioritizing major media outlets with large followings and “reach.” Independent journalists, niche bloggers, and small YouTubers often find themselves rejected — even if they’ve covered Comic-Con in years past or have passionate, engaged communities.

Getting a press badge no longer guarantees access to panels or interviews. SDCC has become a place where even members of the media must jump through additional hoops — or be passed over for the influencers and corporations with the biggest spotlight. It’s another reminder that unless you can bring serious numbers, SDCC doesn’t see you.

So… Is the Hype Still Alive?

Despite the hurdles, San Diego Comic-Con still draws massive crowds. The show floor is packed. Cosplayers still stun with their creativity. Fans still cheer when surprise guests walk on stage. And yes, there’s still magic in the air.

But it’s a different kind of magic now — one that increasingly feels reserved for the lucky, the wealthy, or the influential. For the everyday fan, it’s becoming harder to justify the cost and energy required for so little guaranteed access.

The love for fandoms hasn’t gone away. If anything, it’s stronger than ever. But many fans are choosing smaller, regional cons instead — where access is better, prices are lower, and the experience feels more intimate. Others are hoping SDCC will one day return to a hybrid format, with livestreams for major panels and better digital access.

Because in a world that prides itself on being inclusive and fan-driven, San Diego Comic-Con — in its current form — is starting to feel like a gated community.

Final Thoughts

SDCC is still a major event in pop culture, and it’s not going anywhere. But the question fans are asking isn’t “Is it worth it?” — it’s “Who is it for now?

If San Diego Comic-Con wants to continue being the crown jewel of fandom, it might be time to look back at what made it special in the first place: community, creativity, and access for all.

Until then, fans will continue to watch from the outside, hoping for a time when the game isn’t rigged, the lines aren’t endless, and the magic feels truly shared again.