Imagine, if you will, standing in line for hours covered head-to-toe in full body paint, surviving on overpriced concession food, and shuffling through massive crowds for the fleeting chance to see Robert Downey Jr. wink mid-gum chew. For years, that was the mystique of Hall H at San Diego Comic-Con. It wasn’t merely a convention room; it was a modern-day coliseum, a rite of passage for the most committed pop culture devotees. Hall H once felt alive — a collective organism of cheers, gasps, and groans erupting in perfect synchronicity. For a few charged hours, before everyone stumbled out sweaty, overstimulated, and high on adrenaline, it was unfiltered nerd nirvana.

But in recent years, the roar has faded to a murmur. Marvel understandably forewent Hall H in 2020 and 2021 due to the pandemic, missed it in 2023 due to the dual strikes, and recently announced that they’ll sit out 2025 as well. The throne is vacant — or would be, if it weren’t for the live shows of “Dimension 20,” the tabletop role-playing game show created by Brennan Lee Mulligan. I was fortunate enough to attend “Battle at the Bowl” at the historic Hollywood Bowl, a venue that has hosted legendary artists such as Jimi Hendrix, The Beach Boys, and The Beatles.

But on June 1, 2025, the Bowl was transformed into a battleground for Fantasy High, the “Dimension 20” campaign that first launched the ongoing series on the Dropout streaming platform. Joining Mulligan were Emily Axford as Figueroth “Fig” Faeth, Zac Oyama as Gorgug Thistlespring, Siobhan Thompson as Adaine Abernant, Ally Beardsley as Kristen Applebees, Brian Murphy as Riz “The Ball” Gukgak, and Lou Wilson as Fabian Aramais Seacaster — who, in a canon-defining event titled “A Rumble in the Chungle,” was facing potential permanent character death at the hands of recurring nemesis Chungledown Bim, a gnome pirate (also played by Mulligan).

Hall H seats a little over 6,000 people. The Hollywood Bowl? 17,500. I’ve sat in both, and I can say with confidence that “Dimension 20” delivers the kind of communal, cathartic joy Hall H once did. And the wildest part? I hadn’t seen a single episode before that night.