Imagineering Theory: The How and Why of Dark Rides

In this Imagineering Theory article, we’ll explore that staple of Disney theme parks, the animated film-based dark ride. We’ll see what makes them effective, what doesn’t make them effective, and how this information has typically played into actual Imagineering decisions about which films to turn into rides.

For starters, what is meant by “dark ride”? While any ride taking place in an enclosed building can be considered a dark ride (even if the scenes are actually well lit), for the purposes of this article we’ll consider only the “classic” type: a ride involving a simple, relatively slow-moving, electric-powered vehicle that transports guests through a sequence of blacklit scenes that tell a story. Disney’s dark rides are an elaboration of the “haunted house” type of attraction found at many amusement parks dating back to the early 20th Century. These primitive precursors provided the ride system and the basic special effects, but tying it all together with a story was Walt Disney’s own innovation.

However, while the story is the thing that sets Disney dark rides apart from their competitors, it is not the most important factor in creating each unique experience. Indeed, most dark rides do not do a very good job of summarizing their respective films. Notable scenes may be whittled down to a single image and line of dialogue, placed out of order or eliminated altogether, while less plot-relevant sequences may be given disproportionate attention. This is because the job of a dark ride is not to simply tell the story, but to allow the riders to experience it for themselves by transporting them to the fantastic settings depicted in the film. Place, not plot, is the most important factor.

Consider Peter Pan’s Flight. True to its name, most of its space and track length is devoted to the flying sequence that occupies only a small percentage of the film’s runtime. Guests soar over London and Neverland in suspended vehicles, surrounded by stars, getting to see the elaborate models from all angles, just as if it were all real. All the dramatic action is condensed into the last 30 seconds or so. And then there’s Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, which depicts in three dimensions a sequence of events barely hinted at in the film, followed by the Hell scene which had no actual counterpart in the movie and was devised solely to provide the ride with a grand finale.

Thus, the cardinal rule of dark ride design is: don’t try to accurately recreate the plot of the film. Instead, think about transporting riders to the world of the film, and figure out what they would find attractive or cathartic about that prospect. If it were plot they were after, they could just stay home and watch the movie on Blu-Ray.

Naturally, this principle means that not every animated film would make for an effective dark ride. In the 1970s, Imagineers tried to develop a ride based on Robin Hood. Every idea fell flat, because of what veteran Imagineer Tony Baxter calls “sticks and stones and rocks and leaves.” The action of the movie is driven entirely by the characters, with the locales merely backdrops, and not very exciting ones—the gray stones of the castle walls, or the plain trees and bushes of the forest. While perfectly serviceable as a movie, Robin Hood does not instill in its audience a desire to explore Nottingham or Sherwood Forest. There is nothing about it that you would appreciate more if you were there, as opposed to watching it on a screen.

This same problem plagues the rides based on Pixar films. Monsters, Inc.—Mike and Sully to the Rescue! does a fine job of rehashing Monsters, Inc., but that’s not what a dark ride needs. Monstropolis is for all intents and purposes merely a modern city, and the ride takes us to mostly ordinary places—a street, a restaurant, a men’s locker room. The one really exciting location in the movie is the giant warehouse of doors, and in my opinion, the ride would have been much more impactful if it had been built around that climactic scene.

The second rule of dark rides is: keep it simple. Each scene and event should be comprehensible after only a few seconds of viewing, because that’s usually all the riders will have before they have moved on to the next scene or event. Priority should be given to right-brain stimuli—bright colors, strong spatial composition, evocative body language and facial expressions on the character figures, snippets of music and sound effects—with left-brain stimuli such as written words or lines of dialogue kept to a minimum. Besides allowing near-instantaneous grasp of each scene, this approach permits even young children and guests who don’t speak the local language to understand the ride.

Here again, MI—MASTTR! serves as an example of what not to do: most of the scenes are too talky and too crowded with different elements, making it difficult for riders to find the focal point of each scene. The wordy dialogue is especially awkward coming from the fairly static figures that populate the ride.

The third rule of dark ride design is: use your space wisely. Although the show buildings for dark rides have gotten progressively larger since the old days, it’s still important to plan the layout properly so that space is neither wasted nor wanting. If you examine the plans for existing rides, you’ll notice how compact most of them really are. Remember that most show buildings need space not only for the track and sets, but also spare vehicle storage, machinery to operate the effects, and sometimes small Cast Member offices or break rooms. As for sizing individual rooms, there are no hard-and-fast rules; the optimum varies depending on the emotional impact you’re going for, and is dependent upon context. What would be scarier—a high ceiling with towering set pieces, or a claustrophobic narrow tunnel? It depends on the precedent set by the original film.

The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh at Disneyland is an example of a dark ride that had more space available than it needed, but used it anyway. The result? Vast warehouse-like showrooms with scenery placed much farther away from the track than would have been ideal for the cozy tone of the original stories and their cuddly, friendly protagonist. On the other hand, large spaces are perfect for the centerpiece scenes of Peter Pan’s Flight.

Obviously, these three rules are not the be-all and end-all of dark ride design, and there may even be occasions when you have to bend or break them in order to produce the best possible ride. But they’re an excellent place to start, and something to keep in mind for your future Armchair Imagineering efforts.