Competitive Action Figuring Spreads Across the Nation

July, 2013, Carbuncle, CT (UAP) They call themselves Figgies and their numbers are growing across the country. Enthusiasts of action figures - don't let them catch you calling them toys - are building arenas and staging massive battles in basements, garages, community centers, and even bars from California to Maine. 

A Figgie runs a practice session.

   Michael Snow runs an action figure arena in his parents' garage, based in Ankeny, Iowa. "I've always been a big collector of action figures. Like most collectors, I simply displayed my figures on shelves and admired them. I didn't really interact with them like I did when I was a kid. Then, I heard about the Figgy movement and decided to get it started here, too."

   So, what exactly do Figgies do in their arenas?  "Well," Michael explains, "we plan and execute epic battles. It's like a real war, and, unfortunately, there are casualties. My guy might kill some Decepticons with his ray but eventually he will fall in battle unless he takes shelter. If he does die, then I take control of another character. The more skilled Figgies can control two guys at once, but I find it easier to focus with just one. It's kind of a zen thing."

Wrestling Figgies enjoy a vibrant scene.

   When the movement began a few years ago, the arenas were built by the Figgies themselves; however, they now have the option to order a custom-designed arena from Action Arenas, Incorporated, a thriving, new business located in Carbuncle, New Hampshire. Company founder Nick Wilson explains, "The price of an arena depends on several factors. For example, some of these guys order some pretty hefty arenas, while others can easily fit on a bedroom floor." 

   Figgies prefer using arenas that match the action figure line they use. One of the most popular lines is the decades-old Transformers series. Proponents of this line prefer wide open spaces, like deserts or moonscapes. G.I. Joe fans prefer mountain sides, jungles, trenched fields, and even oceans, if submarine vehicles are available. Of course, Ninja Turtles enthusiasts use sewers and city blocks. Then there the Melting Pot Arenas.

   "The Melting Pots are really controversial," according to Wilson. "We don't advertise them, but we do install a few. Even then, we have to keep it kind of hush-hush." Snow's position on the issue may explain the need to be confidential: "I have nothing but the utmost disdain for Mixies and their so-called Melting Pots. If I ever did come across a Melting Pot, I don't know if I could resist the urge to trash it."

   Why all the hostility, and what do purists like Snow find so offensive? "Mixies see all of the action figure lines as one big world, and we have no qualms about mixing them together, hence the name," explains Mixies Union President Steve Quincy. Mixies revel in matchups like Superman versus Optimus Prime or Godzilla against the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. Outside of their dream matchups, life is more difficult. Quincy adds, "The purists discriminate against us in so many ways: besides shunning and ostracizing us, they also refuse to include mixed classes in the competitions."

A Mixie in his domain.

   Your eyes have not deceived you; action figure tournaments exist, and are growing rapidly, thanks to the Bozeman, Montana-based Competitive Action Figure League and its president, Stilt Whitman. "We organize local, regional, and, for the last three years, national events. The national championship teams in each class won $100,000 last year from entry fees and our major sponsors, like Mattel, Playmates, and Hasbro."

   The scoring is rather complicated and seems mostly subjective to outsiders, but is based on a "gentleman's code of conduct". There are several classes, including G.I. Joe, Transformers, Ninja Turtles, Marvel, DC, Lord of the Rings, Naruto, My Little Pony, and Masters of the Universe, plus some smaller, second-level classes like Real Ghostbusters. The host city can also choose an exhibition class; last year, San Francisco chose Rainbow Bright." Regarding the lack of a mixed class, Whitman says it is a simple matter of economics. "There just aren't enough Mixies or Custies out there, and none of the sponsors are likely to support such a class, due to brand dilution. No, we only have room for pure classes of stock figures."

A purist, DC scenario takes place in a city arena at competition.

   Custies and Premies may be even more persecuted than the Mixies. Custies enjoy modifying existing action figures to create figures for characters that have not been served by the toy companies. Some Custies even create their very own figures, hoping to secure a distribution deal and the fame and fortune that follow. Premies prefer to use collectors'-line, premium figures that feature elaborate detail and large scales. Other Figgies criticize Premy battles as being too stiff and precious, given the competitors' fear of damaging their expensive figures.

   In many ways, the world of Figgies reflects our society today and especially in the past, with its notions of purity and class warfare. Quincy remains hopeful: "I would like to be the Martin Luther King, Jr., of Figgies, and stand before the crowd at the next National Championships and tell them that I, too, have a dream, that one day it will be acceptable for He-Man to wage war against Cobra Command."

©2013 Matthew Bert Goode