I had so much fun assembling last week's post about hosting an
Enchanted Tiki Room-themed luau that I decided to dedicate this
week's article to the attraction itself.
Having
already written one of these for the Jungle Cruise, the obvious thing
to do is a compare-and-contrast between these two Adventureland
attractions from Disneyland's first decade. So here it is: In
addition to the two points of commonality already mentioned, the
Jungle Cruise and the Enchanted Tiki Room both heavily feature comedy
involving audio-animatronic tropical animals. And that's about it for
similarities.
The
Jungle Cruise is a boat ride, the Enchanted Tiki Room a stationary
show. The Jungle Cruise evokes Africa, Southeast Asia, and South
America, while the Enchanted Tiki Room evokes Hawaii. The animals in
the Enchanted Tiki Room are all birds, while the Jungle Cruise
showcases a few birds, lots of mammals, some reptiles, and even fish
and insects. The Enchanted Tiki Room is about one-and-a-half times as
long as the Jungle Cruise—over twice as long if you include the
pre-show. The Enchanted Tiki Room revolves around music; the Jungle
Cruise decidedly does not. The Enchanted Tiki Room presents a
pre-programmed show that never varies, while the Jungle Cruise,
thanks to its live spiel, is different every time.
Do I
have to keep going?
Actually,
there is one really noteworthy point of contrast between the two
attractions, and that is the style of humor. As I surmised in my
Jungle Cruise post, that ride has possibly ensured its survival by
embracing sarcasm. The Enchanted Tiki Room, on the other hand, not
only holds onto its sincerity, but—judging by the poor reception to
its Orlando counterpart's snarky “Under New Management!”
makeover—seems to be better off
for doing so. I suspect, as I explained in said post, that guests
prefer to have the sarcasm confined to the Jungle Cruise where they
can keep an eye on it...but that doesn't explain why the Enchanted
Tiki Room continues to play to mostly full houses when it keeps on
offering its increasingly outdated air of genteel,
martini-in-one-hand drollery (complete with celebrity impressions
that were a little past their sell-by date even in 1963).
Well, okay. It also offers air conditioning. And frosty, delicious
Dole Whips at the attached Tiki Juice Bar, and you're even allowed to
eat them inside now. We cannot discount these as factors in the
show's appeal, especially when the mercury breaks 90.
But
that can't be all there is to it, because there was a stretch in the
early 2000s where things were looking pretty dire. The birds were
molting, the thatch was deteriorating, and the crowds—who may not
always know what they want, but are pretty sure they don't
want shoddy maintenance and dismal, uninviting entryways—were
walking right past it in droves. The outlook was grim over here in
Disneyland Fansville—we thought for sure they would either give the
Enchanted Tiki Room the Under New Management! treatment or shut it down entirely. And
we weren't sure which prospect was worse.
Fortunately, sanity—or at least sentimentality of the more
productive sort—prevailed, and the Enchanted Tiki Room was
extensively renovated and given an eye-catching new entrance gate and
sign, hinting at the merriment within:
You
might not go in, but you'll at least know it's there.
Audiences rediscovered the Enchanted Tiki Room and it has enjoyed
reasonable success ever since. Hell, once you factor in its
presumably low operating costs (small servos don't eat much power)
and the extreme popularity of the Dole Whips, it might be that the
Tikis turn a profit.
Fancy that.
But
that doesn't change the fact that the show itself is, well, an
unchanged fact. It's been altered in small ways over the years—the
sponsor changed from American Airlines to Dole, the program was
trimmed in order to fit in an extra performance every hour, the sound
system was updated, the pre-show was rearranged—but the Enchanted
Tiki Room hasn't had anything new
to say since the day it opened. The parrot emcees still emulate Bing
Crosby and Maurice Chevalier; the rock-and-roll revolution rolled
right past them without disturbing a feather.
You'd
think that samey-same-sameness would be dangerous in a park that
caters mostly to locals. Didn't I cite the Jungle Cruise's endless
capacity for variety as a factor in its enduring popularity with
repeat guests? (Spoiler: I did.) But humans are paradoxical
creatures, and so I'm gonna go right ahead and cite the Enchanted
Tiki Room's lack of
variety as a factor in its ability to keep drawing crowds after 50+
years.
See,
it's not just the
Enchanted Tiki Room. It's Walt Disney's
Enchanted Tiki Room. It's there because Walt really dug
audio-animatronic figures.* More interestingly, though, it was the
last big project he oversaw before the 1964-1965 New York World's
Fair forever changed the way the Imagineers designed and built major
attractions. Other artifacts of this period, of Disneyland's infancy,
still exist of course...but the great majority of them have been
significantly revised
in the meantime. The Fantasyland dark rides had their layouts and
effects completely revamped. The Matterhorn got ice caverns and Yetis
and changed its address. The Submarine Voyage first changed from a
military to a scientific endeavor, then closed, then re-opened with a
Finding Nemo theme and
underwater LCD screens. Tom Sawyer Island has become a pirate haven.
Even many of the shops on Main Street have gradually morphed into
completely different entities than they were in the early years.
But
the Enchanted Tiki Room has thus far avoided this fate, making it, in
a sense, a rare glimpse into the mind of a Walt Disney who was still
naïve...but right on
the cusp of a huge discovery. Not yet having begun to dream of big
robotic dinosaurs and pirates and presidents, he was still completely
charmed by little robotic talking birds—and his enthusiasm rubs off
on us every time we watch the show. Has it ever occurred to you how
strange it is that people clap for these performers? They're
machines; it's not
like they can hear or appreciate the applause. But for that brief
period of time, we believe: Parrot-occhio is a real bird!
And
they're interesting characters. The script of the show only permits
little flashes of their different personalities, but it's enough to
make me want to know more about them and their enchanted room. I have
questions. Like:
Contrary to the song lyrics, not
all the birds sing words. Only the parrot emcees and the cockatoos on
the Birdmobile do...so why is that? Did they learn language from
humans? Is that why the emcees, despite apparently being native to
the area, all have different accents? Were they mascots aboard
sailing ships before settling down in the Tiki Room? Do they live
there, or just convene there for performances and birdie business?
Hang on...is it the room
that gives them the power of speech? Who built
the Tiki Room (surely not the birds themselves!), and what became of
them? There don't seem to be any native humans around. Maybe the
Polynesian gods whose idols dot the exterior garden built it. That
would explain how it came to be enchanted.
I
love the Enchanted Tiki Room for making me ask these questions. It
may be small and simple, but it's a perfect example of why I almost
always prefer non-branded concepts for attractions over existing IPs.
The latter usually just tell you an abridged or scrambled version of
a story you already know. The former inspire you to imagine new
stories. How many web pages are dedicated to unriddling the history
of the Haunted Mansion based on the “clues” scattered throughout
the queue and ride?
The
Enchanted Tiki Room predates the Haunted Mansion, of course...or does
it? The Tikis opened their doors in 1963—the same year that the
Mansion's exterior was completed. I can't find any information as to
the exact date the building shell was declared finished, so it may be
that there has been a physical Haunted Mansion in Disneyland longer
than there has been a completed Tiki Room. We all know why the
Mansion sat empty for six years—the Imagineers put it on the
backburner to work on the World's Fair stuff, and by the time they
were done with those, a walking tour seemed laughably inadequate and
so they scrapped most of their plans and started redeveloping it as a
ride. This much is common knowledge among Disneyland
cognoscenti...but I'm wondering now about the Tiki Room connection.**
There
were elaborate attractions in Disneyland before the Enchanted Tiki
Room, but they didn't have the same sense of inviting mystery about
them. Either there was no story to tease out (the Matterhorn, without
its interior scenes, was just a model of a real-world location), or a
tour guide—live or recorded—explained it to you in real time.
There was no need to wonder what happened at the Burning Cabin: they
told you straight up, Indians did it. I think the Enchanted Tiki Room
might have been the first time a Disneyland attraction presented you
with something astounding...and then made no attempt to tell you what
was going on. The birds and flowers take their sapience for granted
and are far too concerned with performing competently to delve into
the metaphysics of it.
And
maybe once Walt and the Imagineers realized they could do that, they
wanted to do more of it. The World's Fair projects catapulted
attraction technology
to new heights with more efficient ride systems and increasingly
complex audio-animatronics, but in terms of attraction storytelling,
they were still fairly hand-holdy. The narrative triumphs of Pirates
of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion must have come from
somewhere else. Maybe—maybe—the
Enchanted Tiki Room provided that initial spark.
If
true, this puts the Tikis at a very interesting crossroads indeed.
The show isn't just
the farewell performance of the old ways, or the first big flourish
of the audio-animatronic era. It's literally the bridge
between the two—a bridge that
has been maintained over the years, so that we can still cross back
over it and experience a piece of early Disneyland history for
ourselves.
In
its simple and corny way, the Enchanted Tiki Room made
the Golden Age of Disneyland.
Maybe.
But
even if not, it's still special just for being what it is—a
tropical hideaway where (some of) the birds sing words and the
flowers croon (and the tikis drum and chant and the gods get a little
tweaked off about it all). Long may it bloom!
*
Contrary to popular trivia, the Enchanted Tiki Room was not the first
Disneyland attraction to use them—the Mine Train Through Nature's
Wonderland beat it by three years. But it was the first to use them
as the main feature and to coordinate them into a complex show—still
an important milestone!
**
For discussion of more potential connections between the Enchanted
Tiki Room and the Haunted Mansion, check out this
article on the absolutely magnificent blog, “Long-Forgotten
Haunted Mansion.”
The point you make about where the Enchanted Tiki Room sits in Disney history is a very good one when looking at it from the perspective of Disney fandom. I'm not sure that entirely accounts for why it's still popular with normal people though ;)
ReplyDeleteI suspect the answer there is much simpler: it's simply a good show. The songs may be from the Thirties, but they're still catchy. The impressions may be from the Forties, but still charismatic. The animatronics may be simple, but they're still... enchanted. The show is a real delight and, when taken proper care of, still engaging. I had no particular interest in Tiki before I saw it, and it made a convert out of me. Now we have an Enchanted Tiki Kitchen, based on the strength of that one attraction.
As Disney fans we may focus on the showman behind it, but the Enchanted Tiki Room itself demonstrates the showman's craft wonderfully.
Oh, it's a genuinely engaging show. I didn't mean to imply that nostalgia on the part of park fans is the *only* reason for its resilience.
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