The cringe factor isn’t an issue — not at first, anyway. Instead, when you attend D23, and you’re not a Disney loyalist, the thing that creeps up on you is the fact you’re swimming in cognitive dissonance. Yes, I consume Disney products, and I like a fair amount of them. I’ll even go to the freaking mat for certain shows that Disney funds. But, I am not a Disney fan because Disney is a corporation, not a thing that makes art.
And yet, at D23 it seems that that line has been blurred. And therein lies the dark secret. There are no conventions for people who are fans of Starbucks or say, another movie studio like Paramount or Sony. Sure, we may be a few years away from an A24 or Neon convention, but that’s a different thing. D23 is a show put on for yes, journalists like me, but also for people who identify themselves as fans of the Disney brand. But why is that so weird? For me, the answer was found in being a crowd at D23 that I was very much not a part of.
I’ve prepared for D23 knowing, for the most part, exactly what I’m getting into. I spend the two-hour drive from Los Angeles to Anaheim bracing for encounters with cosplayers and overzealous fans. And I don’t mind, honestly: there was a time when I, too, studied Disney like a religion. I was on that side of Tumblr in the early 2010s, once Ground Zero for the phenomenon we know now as “Disney Adulting.” The House of Mouse was my safe place, and its loose network of franchises a very real comfort. I thought I knew what to expect from a convention hosted by “the Official Disney Fan Club,” but D23 went far beyond anything I was mentally prepared for.
The D23 Expo is a relatively new invention and one of Disney’s most voracious business decisions. In many ways, it’s like a mini Comic-Con, one entirely concentrated on the Disney brand. For three days, the company brings all of its disparate properties together, hosting Lucasfilm, Marvel, Disney Animation, the Disney Parks, and even National Geographic under one massive roof. It’s touted as “the ultimate fan event,” and at no point does anyone let you forget that.
It all begins with the Disney Entertainment Showcase, which is basically like Marvel’s infamous Hall H panel but for every Disney subsidiary. Disney fans from all over the world flood into Anaheim’s Honda Center arena; all 12,000 seats are filled with loyal patrons, some representing their favorite characters in costume, others breathlessly waiting to see their favorite celebrities. It doesn’t matter that many announcements will essentially be recycled from Comic-Con, which precluded D23 by two weeks. Honestly, few of these announcements will really matter at all. When Disney’s CEO, Bob Iger, takes the stage to kick off the event, he’s greeted with an eerie standing ovation — and with just a few words, the exec gets to the heart of D23’s raison d’être.
“Our deep bond with fans, forged over a century of storytelling, is stronger today than ever before,” Iger says. “You truly are the best fans in the world.”
Disney fans will be called “the best in the world” all weekend long: it’s shamelessly plugged into every prelude, repeated by the heads of every Disney executive. From the outside looking in, it gets old very fast, but the crowd at the Honda Center soaks it up each time. The only thing that gets a bigger reaction is the announcement of a new sequel or spin-off: a new Toy Story movie; a new Frozen adventure; another live-action remake.
That zeal stands in stark contrast to the newer, riskier properties on the Disney slate, some of which scarcely merit a reaction. Disney Animation’s Jennifer Lee teases a slew of original content coming down the pipeline, only to focus on concept art for Frozen 3 and plant the seeds for a potential Frozen 4 (that, of course, gets rapturous applause). Nothing ever changes: one creatively bankrupt choice begets another. The true problem is, no one in this massive arena seems to care. In fact, they seem to prefer it this way.
Much ink has been spilled on the deification of Disney and its subsidiaries. Whether you revere the animated films, go to the parks on a monthly (or even weekly) basis, or dedicate your off days to cosplay, many of Disney’s franchises have become a religion for its fans... even if it’s not convenient. Visiting the parks is more expensive than it’s ever been, but it’s still a haven for many. Iger himself earned a $36 million payday in 2023 — all while condemning the writers and actors striking against Disney — but he’s still the savior of the company. As long as Disney keeps churning out nostalgia bait, it evidently can do no wrong. And as far as Disney itself is concerned, neither can the fandom.
The Honda center may have been filled to the brim with vocal supporters, but it’s a very different story elsewhere. Lucasfilm especially has become the target of a vocal sect of “fans”; many have been steadily condemning Star Wars’ “woke” pivot for years. It came to a particular head with the release of The Acolyte, Lucasfilm’s most divisive show by far. Curiously, The Acolyte isn’t mentioned at all during D23’s Entertainment Presentation, despite demands for a second-season renewal. Many of Disney’s other controversies — concerning Captain America: Brave New World, its Snow White remake, and much more — are similarly glossed over.
You could argue that Disney is trying to accentuate the positive where it can — 2023 was, after all, the company’s worst year across the board. Still, it hasn’t put much effort into reclaiming the faith of the masses. Iger still maintains that Disney is the most innovative company in the world. That hasn’t actually been true in years, at least where entertainment is concerned... but does that actually matter when a sect of diehard fans is hanging on your every word?
At the end of the day, it wasn’t the Disney Adults that made me cringe, but rather how Disney hides behind their fervor. The “best fans in the world” have become a gauge of success, and D23 is an uncomfortable echo chamber. It’s frustrating to watch and disturbing to witness firsthand. But it also reinforces what many of us already know: Disney stopped being a storytelling company a long time ago. Now all that matters is the brand and those that worship at its mousy feet.
