In HBO’s sprawling fantasy epic Game of Thrones, major characters die (decapitations, molten crowns) with alarmingly unsentimental frequency. So, if you miss Drogo, the spectacularly muscled warlord (infected sword gash), head to the New York Comic Con to meet Jason Momoa, who mixed sullen contemplation with pro-wrestler-style histrionics for his pitch-perfect portrayal of savage nobility. Or, indulge your softer side in the Cultyard, with a plush version of a Star Wars Imperial AT-AT Walker crafted by Philly-born artist Steff Bomb. Erudite panels (such as “Batman and Ironman: Can a Person Truly Become Either?”); dealers hawking untold thousands of DC and Marvel back issues; and seminars in deconstructing anime should sate even your most nagging pop-cult jones.
Thu., Oct. 13, 2011