HLDU 4 Con Report

HLDU 4 was held Friday 6th April – Sunday 8th April 2001 at the Mercure Hotel in Brisbane, Australia.

Day One—Friday 6th April, 2001

Registration was no hassle. There was a line, but shortly after noon the line dissipated. They'd put my fannish name on my name tag, so I ended up reversing it and writing “Erika” with a pen on it. Nobody took any notice. Anyone could have walked into the con wearing a makeshift name tag! Once done, I found those I knew—in the dealer's room, naturally—and went over photos and other paraphernalia. I'd an eyeful, and phoned Dana to tell her of the large number of Xena photos available.

At 1pm I was supposed to join in with the sword-fighting group, but seeing people standing around and waving sticks discouraged me. They didn't look overly coordinated, and I didn't think that they'd improve under Roberta Brown's eye!

For a while there was a guy who seemed to be a bit friendless and tried to attach himself to our group. He walked up to us after registration (we were a group of 8 or so). He attempted to join us again while we were watching Queen of Swords, but our indifference must have had him give up..

The dealer's room had a nice art show—the obligatory Leah Rosenthal as charming as usual. I'm almost glad that I'm poor … or I'd have gotten Stargate photos. They're mega droolworthy.

Just counting all of the slashers—there are at least 15. Those are the ones that I know of. Every time we turn around some comment comes out … those poor het and genners. The photos dealer lady gives us looks, though she did point out the Liam Kincaid in a see-through black pic looking very gay.

Memorable line from Queen of Swords, "Vengeance".

QoS: "Town is back that way … if you want to keep running away."
Helm: "I am not running away … I'm walking."

The dailies that Maureen Russell showed of Highlander were really quite dry. They were of some 6th season episode that I've not seen, a flashback episode with Fitz in it. There were endless shots of the same scene -- and none too interesting ones, either. She also went overtime by about 15 minutes. No con people turned up to tell her that time was up—the audience delicately suggested it, then the Queen of Swords episode that we were to see was nowhere to be found. I found it at the back of the room, and from then on was the person doing the light adjustment. This time around the con doesn't seem to be too well organised.

The good part of Maureen's piece was that Lambert interview, although the editing on that was terrible. Apparently courtesy of Josh Davis. Having seen his efforts at The Methos Chronicles, I can hardly claim have to been impressed.

The episode of Queen of Swords was quite good—and one with Elizabeth Gracen in it. A very Amanda-like character indeed. I see yet more opportunity for crossovers. There were some differences—a bit more gullible, probably the most noticeable thing.

Once that was done, it was the dailies with Roberta. She's a very interesting talker. Her dailies were a bit more interesting (sword fights) and we got to see Peter Wingfield jumping off of a cliff from the ep "Vengeance", though it didn't make the final cut. She also paused a lot to intersperse commentary. It did make things a little more interactive. Her sword is quite remarkable and she gave some nice posing for photographs. The questions at the end were quite intelligent and the answers gave insight into the industry—especially the one about men playing women in stunts, with the reverse extremely rare.

While eating during viewing of the Queen of Swords episode, I lost the lid on my little sandwich box. There I was, pulling apart my food for bite-sized chunks, then the next scrabbling around in the dim light on my knees. I must have looked rather strange.

I nearly missed the gathering for the group walk to the Dendy. It was supposed to be in the lobby yet I stayed on the programming level. Luckily for me some other people popped in and let me know! I'd been wondering why no-one had been appearing.

As it were, our arrival at the Dendy was early be over half an hour. They'd expected us to trickle in, not be a mass wave, and so miscalculated. In the time until 6:3-pm, we hung around outdoors, with most of Clan Fabulous cheering the buses arriving outside of the Dendy and screwing with the passenger's minds. It was very funny. I saw Chris McMahon arrive—I'd not expected to see him there. He apparently likes Highlander. His wife turned up with children, which, once they guests arrived, proved to be good guest-attractors.

While waiting, I spoke to various Americans concerning shows that they have that we wish we could get, and their wanting various Australian shows. Unfortunately for them they were things like Blue Heelers that they were wanting—poor them if they think that this is quality.

Red carpet and velvet ropes were produced for the arrival of the guests. They came in a limousine, for which we'd been coached to cheer while they disembarked. Clan Fabulous accosted them at various intervals. We pushed and prodded others out of the way until we had monopoly, and photos and talks were then initiated. I myself edged in on Peter Wingfield and got his attention onto the group, overly familiarly patting him on the shoulder once, not that I'd noticed until I'd done it and saw how some of the others were a bit starry-eyed.

The guests were given Tim Tams by Clan Fabulous—very humorously. They were bribes so that they'll try to convince Sonja and gang to have another con next year. Let's see how that goes. The women guests apparently loved us—the male guests looked a bit wary and hunted. In Peter Wingfield's case, though, with more than enough reason.

I'd a bit of red wine—and it was hurting my scalp. That's my reaction to alcohol these days. The food I managed to capture wasn't too bad.

The movie Highlander: Endgame—now that's something all to itself. We took up the first row, then lay on the floor staring up at the screen. I swear it was like staring up their nostrils or watching deformed faces. An experience not to be forgotten. The con organisers said that it was to be an interactive viewing—did we ever interact. Laughing, heckling, cheering, booing, commentary—the lot. Tremendous fun. Us slashers were especially sensitive to certain things such as "I want to feel you inside me."—Jacob Kell to Connor MacLeod. Something similar was said between Kell and Duncan later on.

Once that was over we headed back to the hotel to freshen up, and from there into the Mall to Malone's to find food. WE took up all of their available space until they found us two big enough tables—and we needed them! Talk abounded, innuendo and outright talk aplenty. Food aside, it was time to leave. Everyone decided to go to the casino to spot the guests, but as my eyes were beginning to glue shut, it was time for me to head home.

Day Two—Saturday 7th April, 2001

I arrived late—after the opening ceremony—and just after the first batch of group photos had been taken. Not too late though—got Jacki's camera working again, and so grabbed Peter Wingfield to get her a photo of them together. After that it was another group photo session as James Horan hadn't been there for the first. So I ended up in the photos anyway. No reprieve for me!

Then it was sitting down to wait for Carmel to start on her talk about "The Journey of Duncan MacLeod." She gave some interesting and worthwhile perspectives—though I'd be more likely to look at things from slightly differently coloured lenses. Some I disagree with, of course. But I liked her theory on why Methos was hanging around—because Connor met up with Methos before (shown by his telling Methos how much he cared for Rachel) and before going into Sanctuary was asked to keep an eye on Duncan. The dates work out, too.

The talk with James Horan was good. That man oozes sex appeal and is very charming. There was talk of his current projects such as his recently finished Song of the Vampire, a film of which we saw the trailer. It looks very much like something that will go straight to video. Hopefully a copy will appear so that I can see it.

He also mentioned his theatre projects, and a question from the audience gave us an anecdote of one time that was amusing. Before going onstage once, he went to the loo in full costume, getting his shirt-tails caught in his zip-up pants. He had to go to the costume people, where they tried to fix it, until he put a safety pin in and went on stage anyway.

It did become a little tedious towards the end. When he'd done, Peter Budd came on stage and entertained us—almost had me forget that Maureen was on next. Budd always is entertaining in his anecdotes and off-the-cuff remarks.

Maureen's section—well, the dailies become quickly monotonous, especially when I'm already tired, though not to a lot of those in Clan Fabulous. We'd seen a great deal of the Peter Wingfield dailies last year, and although some are good, the majority I can't be bothered with seeing again. Instead I left the room and hung around on the con floor, then struck up a conversation with a Canadian who'd been writing away until my interruption. We talked about heritage buildings in Australia and Canada, as well as weather. She found it a bit muggy. Err? Great weather, if a little cool. My hands were cold. That shows that it's a bit too cool!

Sitting out on the programming floor and not being part of it made me privy to con organiser worries. Sonja ran around worriedly as things were apparently running a bit late. I don't know … this con seems to be less interesting than last year's; the panels are not as grabbing and the guests not as interesting (or we've seen less of them?) and there is no video stream—or anything other than what happens in Burke & Wills.

I went back in to hear Elizabeth Gracen talk. She was entertaining and as occupied with fashions as last year. Most of it was anecdotes of her roles, speaking as well of being Carlotta in Queen of Swords. She said that it was dreadfully hot in Spain and that she could barely even concentrate on what she was supposed to do. After that Peter Wingfield came in and they bounced off each other conversationally. It made everything so much more interesting. Peter Wingfield spoke of children a lot. Then came the trump card. Elizabeth started on Peter to take off his shirt and have it for auction. There was much following of Peter around the stage, with Elizabeth unbuttoning him as he went. It was a bit suspicious—as proven later by Peter's wearing a shirt under the one taken off with "Read the Shirt—N.O." written on it. When "coerced" to take that one off, there was another beneath with a Methos picture and "I'm easily amused" on it. All of this was set up with an eye to auction off more of Peter's clothing. The stripping of clothes threatened to go on—with Liz's stuff. It didn't happen.

Peter's talk was on his new roles and what's coming up. He's got one where he needs a Scottish accent, but apparently he can't don one. He gave his attempt—a facsimile of Sean Connery's voice, and an able one.

Then there was the auction. The shirt went for only $1,900 to the same person who bought the shirt last year. Elizabeth made an attempt to auction off Adrian Paul's boxers, but they went for $500 or so. Probably nowhere what they expected; still, the fans who'd come had done so for Peter, not Adrian. The auction went overtime because of the waffling around. Possibly the most amusing thing was Peter Wingfield stalking off the stage in disgust at the auction of the boxers.

When that was done it was the autograph session. I wasn't in line; instead I wandered around and talked to people, then tortured myself in the dealer's room. I did find one Stargate picture I was determined to get, but talked myself out of. It had Daniel with his gayboy haircut in it. Jacki advised me while waiting that my name was done for a taxi to get to the river queens. I was surprised, and checked, and apparently someone from Clan Fabulous put my name down with all of the others. Jacki was a bit irritated at being overlooked, though.

I hung around the programming floor while waiting for everyone to get changed and ready for the evening. There was someone else hanging around, so I got to talk to her and another at the same time. They'd a few interesting insights into fandom, and were very definitely old fans, even if gafiated ones. I also ended up technobabbling with them when it became apparent that they were (well, one of them) knew at bit about computers. Poor Jacki had to listen. Then it was taxi time. We all trooped into one to get there.

Once on the river queen it was a matter of waiting. For an hour. This was just for it to leave the jetty. I was falling asleep by that time. Leaving the jetty meant we all trooped out to stick our faces in the wind (or get away from the bad music). Half an hour later the entree was served. Not bad. Then half hour after that, we got our own main course. In between we wandered around, as well as after. Then one of the fans came on to sing -- he wasn't bad. He wasn't spectacular, either. He got us all participating in "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" at one stage—and a lot of fun it was, too. We had to get guests onto either side of the room. We (Clan Fabulous) got Elizabeth, Roberta, and Maureen—good lot. They got into the spirit of things.

After that James Horan came on. Not only is he a sex god but man has he a fabulous voice. I was positively melted. He can do all voices. When James was doing his songs, at the particularly romantic ones he went over to women in the audience. At one stage he was thrusting his … package … into Maroussia's face. Certainly a sight. I thanked him for singing later.

Robert had bought pendants for all of the guests, and while on the cruise, handed them to all of them along with various members of Clan Fabulous. I saw Elizabeth's reaction to getting hers; she was delighted. He'd gone to extra trouble to get her a clear crystal, having to get it specially set. The pendants were little swords.

Miles (guy I met at the cinema showing) was amusing. I had to listen to him try to guess my accent. He wasn't too good with his first go; South African. Eventually I told him. Funny guy—though Rach doesn't like him.

Coming back to the jetty, we all got off and walked back to the hotel. Rach and I walked on considerably ahead. Looking back at the others, they were like crows. A mass of black-wearing people. Rach took a picture. At the hotel, I went up to Jacki's room and looked out of a window … view of the city, nothing excellent.

Once she was done we went back to the programming level and saw Rie Natalenko's short film The Last Secret. It was a good one, though only six minutes long. It was about a boy who killed himself because he was gay and afraid to disappoint. She says it's been showing in festivals all over the place. We certainly all liked it.

The room party afterwards squished 17 people or so into one small room. We covered all available surface (well, all soft ones). There was no more room to move! Sweets and drink were bandied around, though I had to leave before long to catch the last train.

Day Three—Sunday 8th April, 2001

The morning started slowly enough. I just missed the Chris Isaak (sp?) episode that Peter Wingfield gets naked in, but that was fine as the next spot in the panel proved interesting.

The schedule had only Roberta on it, but the guests had decided to do something that proved to be the highlight of the con. They put together a skit "starring" all of them, one that involved swordwork, doubles and Tash Natalenko running around after them, frantically videotaping and dodging to avoid being skewered.

James Horan was the director and actor stand-in, Roberta Brown was the swordsmaster and choreographer, Ippo was wardrobe, Elizabeth Gracen the starlet, Maureen Russell the producer "slash" writer, and Peter Wingfield the star. The whole thing was riotous, starting with James standing in for Peter Wingfield when he proved late. The "stars" were very (fashionably) late, Elizabeth more so than Peter.

Wardrobe was funny—Peter Wingfield wore a moon and star slip so as to be a magician, and Elizabeth Gracen wore a diaphanous scarf that looked really hazardous on Roberta Brown when she wore it. Seeing Roberta do all of the roles and step in for the actors was really something. The audience were the executive producers, which made for a few decisions that sparked much laughter—such as Peter's dress-wearing. The choreography script, such as it were, on a hotel sheet of paper (the header of which had to be cut off later so as to not let on which hotel the guests were at) was auctioned off. A lot was auctioned off later in the day, including Peter's third shirt, which went for upwards of $2,000.

That over, it was autographs time. I didn't have anything—not even the con book, as I'd forgotten it at home. As is happens, I'd offered to get some stuff signed by Peter Wingfield for Erilyn on Saturday. She gave me some glossies and into the line I went. The person behind me I finally realised where I found familiar from—I'd been at a room party with her at AussieCon III. We were most embarrassed to have forgotten one another. While chatting to her I had the most brilliant idea of having all of the guests sign my arms. It seemed feasible enough to me at the time, and it was good as a lark. I only managed to get James Horan's autograph; I was stopped as soon as I got to Roberta by the photographs dealer person, who I assume is connected to their autographs or something. Damn. As soon as I'd left the time I heard Carmel ring out "Please do not ask to get skin signed." Whoops. My cheeks burned scarlet so I hid in the facilities until I was sure that I was no longer red. That done, I then came put and showed off my marked arm off—hell, I did it for a laugh; there'd be no laughing until people found out about it. The reason for no signatures on skin, I found out is that in the US there have been incidents of people who then run out and get them tattooed in. Ugh! Just the thought that someone'd believed that I'd do that. Jacki took a couple of photographs in which my arm features prominently. [ photo ]

When that was over, Elizabeth Gracen and Ippo had a mini cooking show, which I didn't care to see, so off Jacki and I went. Upon returning it was time for the auction. It was good enough, but nothing to write home about. The shirts went for a decent amount, though anything to do with Adrian Paul went for disgustingly low sums of money. It was quite embarrassing that anything to do with Peter Wingfield went for thousands yet the star of the show … well.

Then it was time for the songvids. They were good ones; mostly Killashandra's. Unfortunately we didn't get to see them all. The con organisors were pressed for time, and it showed. The guests wanted to see, but weren't shown them, instead then we had a clap-o-meter judging. The "Opportunities" vid by Killa and someone else won. Apparently there'd been an excellent video that wasn't shown because it was too sad, and they didn't want to end the con on a sad note.

Then it was Peter's bit again—the funniest part of which was where Rach shelled out $200 to hear Peter Wingfield read the "Wingfield" part of the Boston telephone book aloud. Clan Fabulous screamed in laughter at "Outing Street". He didn't seem too impressed by The Methos Chronicles. The character of Methos in the series isn't what he envisioned, apparently, though he'd been pretty keen in the beginning. He was trying to say that in a very tactful way, which some people didn't get.

He was shuffled off pretty quickly for James to come on—an extension of his talk of the day before, with some of the stuff repeated. Obviously some people didn't turn up to the talk on Saturday. Some inappropriate subjects were brought up by a certain con member, and he seemed confused by the subject matter of an actor's death. Still, it was good.

When the "Immortal Readings" part came up, Peter Wingfield did a reading of a classic of his choice, which I quite unfortunately dozed off in. He's got a soothing kind of voice and everyone was so quiet that it oozed "sleepy time". Never mind that I'd been resting for a while in two chairs outside, quite unaware to the world. I'd stopped doing that about an hour beforehand, though.

Then came Elizabeth Gracen's selection. She and Peter Wingfield read it together. It was a very touching piece. I didn't doze off in this one. They both read lines, and once done, Elizabeth sang "Fields of Barley". Fully half of the people had tears in their eyes, as she had, and then Elizabeth and Peter embraced. For that I didn't have tears; later when Sonja was so overcome with emotion during the closing ceremony when thanking the guests, I got a bit of a lump in my throat myself. Sonja got herself hugged by James. The closing ceremony was very hurried, all presents handed out quickly and things skipped over (such as naming best caption on the pictures that had been on the board all weekend). All of the guests were still wearing Clan Fabulous pendants, except for Peter Wingfield.

Then done, it was cake-eating, during which Clan Fabulous organised a room party. That room at one stage had so many people crammed into it that we couldn't move. I of course hogged a good part of a bed. We reminisced, swapped e-mails, and complained of the behaviour of certain members of the con. When we got hungry, it was pizza ordering time—and a couple of people went to the foyer to wait. Half an hour later, a guy shows up with two—when the order was for four. On the way up with the pizzas, Sonia and Robert acquired a new person—Paulius, for whom we went around in a circle and introduced ourselves to. When half an hour later again the pizza guy hadn't turned up, I rang foyer to see if he'd appeared. I listened to the phone ring for ages (nobody answered) until someone obviously got sick of the sound and picked up and hung up the receiver. Hah. I rang again and got an immediate response. They learn quickly, but hadn't seen a pizza guy. Eventually we got things sorted and had free garlic bread.

Soon after that it was time to say goodbye. I did the round of hugs and goodbyes and waves with promises to keep in touch, then was off.