60
Disneyland Diamonds for the Diamond Anniversary
continues! If this is your first time reading this blog, first of
all, where have you been? Second of all, you can find the
introduction to the 60 Diamonds premise here
and the first ten here.
And now, on to the second decade's worth!
1966: “it's a small world”
I
won't lie. I will say, without shame or irony, that this is probably
my favorite extant ride in Disneyland (and I don't use the word
“favorite” lightly). I will probably give it a post of its own
one of these weeks. I realize that this is an unfashionable opinion,
but let's look at the two most common complaints about this ride: 1)
It's “too happy” and 2) The song gets stuck in your head. What
sort of person complains about an optimistic, upbeat ride with
extremely catchy music? How cynical do you have to be to have a
problem with these things? But even people who like the mood and
music of Small World often, I think, overlook its true artistic and
technological merit. I've praised the singular visual design of the
facade on this blog before,
and will probably do so again in the future, so there's no need to go
into it much now. But the interior—the work of the oft-sung Disney
artist Mary Blair—is just as idiosyncratic, with bold, sweeping
shapes and contrasting colors that somehow communicate dozens of
different national motifs within the same style. More on this
achievement, which is echoed in the design of the dolls and yes, in
the theme song, will have to wait for a dedicated post about the
ride. On the technological side, Small World was the first ride at
Disneyland that was capable of serving thousands of guests per hour
thanks to its high capacity vehicles and innovative, double-branched
load area. Its usually low-ish wait
times aren't because people don't like it, but because it doesn't
make people wait to
enjoy its uniqueness.
1967: Pirates of the Caribbean
Aha!
Now we're talking, right?
After eleven entries of maudlin self-indulgence over trivialities and
kid stuff, I finally get to a really good
ride. A ride everyone
likes. A ride so monumentally awesome that Disney reversed its normal
practice and made a movie based on it,
which in turn spawned a multi-billion-dollar franchise (which still
isn't finished!) and made Johnny Depp into one of the hottest names
in Hollywood.
And
on top of all that—or more accurately at the bottom of it—Pirates
of the Caribbean, the ride, is a masterful
work of theme park art. It may not have as large or as devoted a
fandom as its cousin the Haunted Mansion...but it probably does a
superior job of conveying its setting and narrative, and nothing in
the world's entire canon of theme park attractions matches the superb
craftsmanship of its set pieces. Who, while riding through the musty
caverns, hasn't believed in their reality just a little bit? Who
hasn't wished they could leap out of the boat and play in the vast
hoard of “cursed treasure?” Who hasn't felt just a little
apprehensive when floating through the burning town? Who hasn't
simultaneously envied and scorned the pirates themselves, so comical
and yet so wicked, reveling in their own decadence and sealing their
own doom? Even the (in my opinion) ill-conceived addition of
characters from the film franchise to this ride cannot mask the sheer
excellence of the
underlying product.
I
would say more, but the always insightful FoxxFur, blogmistress of
Passport to Dreams Old & New, has said more
than I ever could on the matter,
and in better words. Go read her essay, and then bookmark the blog so
you can come back and read more of her fascinating observations about
Disney parks and films.
Pirates of the Caribbean: It tempts us with ill-gotten diamonds, and
is itself a Diamond of the highest quality.
1968: Disneyland Kennel Club
Some people take their pets on vacation, for reasons that are their
own. Sometimes, that vacation is to Disneyland...but apart from
service animals, pets aren't allowed inside the park. Fortunately,
there is an alternative. Since 1958, Disneyland has offered a special
amenity to accommodate them. First sponsored by pet food manufacturer
Ken-L Ration and accordingly called Ken-L-Land, a decade later it got
a new sponsor, Kal-Kan, and a new name, the Disneyland Kennel Club.
It has since been through other sponsors, but retains the name given
to it in 1968. Throughout all this time, it has been a top-notch care
facility for the nonhuman members of the family. Food and water,
toys, and playtime are included in the $20/day cost—when you use
this service, you can rest assured that your pet is having as much
fun at Disneyland as you are...and for a fraction of the admission
price!
1969: Haunted Mansion
What
is it about this ride that inspires such fascination? Looking at it
objectively, it's just a spook house ride. Granted, it's a
Disney-grade
spook house ride, but by the same token, the roller coasters at
Disneyland are Disney-grade roller coasters, the boat rides are
Disney-grade boat rides, and so on. Yet no other attraction in the
park—in any Disney park—gets groupies the way the Haunted Mansion
does. There's fanfiction
written about it...and it's definitely about the ride, not the
disappointing Eddie Murphy movie from 2003 (in case you were
wondering). It must be that no other ride invites speculation
the way the Haunted Mansion does. Ghost stories are very often
mysteries at heart—who was the ghost in life and why does it now
haunt?—but the Mansion does not spoon-feed you any solutions.
There's no detective-slash-occultist exploring with you and telling
you what a gargoyle holding two candlesticks symbolizes,* no chatty
groundskeeper filling you in on the details of the local legends. (If
anything, the groundskeeper is flabbergasted to discover that the
place really is haunted.) Just you and your brain, seeing what you
can make of the Ghost Host's coy hints and whatever other clues you
manage to spot in the gloom.
That's
powerful mojo. That's
what keeps people coming back to a ride and the park that houses it.
That's what gets them to hype it to their friends. Bean-counters take
special note: That's what gets them to buy the soundtrack and the
guidebook and the themed kitchenware and the Christmas ornaments. Not
high speeds and tight turns, not animated character cameos. Just make
them think. Let
them think. Give them something to think about, and they will.
It
doesn't hurt, of course, that the Mansion is one of Imagineering's
favorite rides to revamp with new scenes and effects. If you're
enough of a fan to be reading this blog...you probably don't need to
be told about the latest. And if you're scratching your head, I
wouldn't dream
of spoiling the surprise.
1970: New Orleans Square Apartments
Whatever you might say about Walt Disney, he was dedicated to
his park. So much so that he had a little apartment suite built over
the Firehouse in Town Square so that he could sleep there overnight
and be up first thing in the morning, enjoying the wonders of the
place he built from his dreams (and leaving little instruction notes
for early-shift workers...because he was also a demanding
taskmaster). The construction of New Orleans Square gave him an
opportunity to have a better one installed, a bigger one, where he
could entertain guests in luxury instead of just stretching his own
self out on a sofa-bed. Unfortunately, of course, he didn't live to
see the completion of this new facility, which wasn't quite ready
when New Orleans Square opened to the public. It seems likely that
work on them slowed or stopped entirely after Walt died, because the
apartments weren't habitable until 1970...and then they were instead
used as offices for seventeen years. But all the luxurious features
that marked it as a dwelling space—marble-backed fireplaces and a
breezy outdoor patio—were left intact, and in 1987, the space was
converted into an art exhibition called the Disney Gallery and opened
to guests.
20 years later, the Disney Gallery closed (in this location, that
is—it was eventually reopened on Main Street). Does this mean I've
broken my rule about all 60 Diamonds being things you can go and see
today? Not at all. It was transformed into the Dream Suite, which is
so exclusive that you can't even buy a night's stay there...you have
to win it in one of the promotional contests Disney holds from time
to time. So actually visiting the apartment is a pretty long
shot, but it's still there. You can see Walt's and Roy's initials in
the wrought-iron balcony railing, and while you might envy the hell
out of those who get to stay there, a moment's philosophical
reflection will make you realize that it has only come full circle
and returned to its original intended purpose—a posh apartment
available only to the lucky few.
1971: River Belle Terrace
I'm
sure I don't need to convince anyone that this is one of Disneyland's
better restaurants—it does good business for all three meals of the
day. But do you know what makes it a Diamond? Picture this: You've
just arrived at the park, first thing in the morning. You're hungry,
so you stop at the River Belle Terrace, order pancakes and/or sausage
and scrambled eggs, maybe some fruit, and take your food out to the
patio to eat. It's still cool out. It's not very busy yet, so it's
quiet. The air smells clean. And you have a lovely view of the Rivers
of America. Then you hear the steam whistle of the Mark
Twain
and just catch a glimpse of the plume of vapor coming from the far
side of Tom Sawyer Island. Then you hear the chug-chug of the
smokestacks, gradually getting louder as the paddle-wheeler itself
comes into view, sweeping around the bend in the river and gleaming
in the morning sun. And you get to have this experience over
breakfast,
and with so few people about, it feels almost private, just for you.
That's the magic of the River Belle Terrace.
1972: Hungry Bear Restaurant
On
the other hand, if you're more of a dinner person, the Hungry Bear
(née
Golden Bear), widely agreed to serve the best burgers in the park,
has had your back for just one year less. It sits right at the
water's edge and in fact marks the westernmost point on the Rivers of
America that a guest can visit without boarding a canoe, steamboat,
or sailing ship—the outermost edge of the “civilization”
portrayed in Frontierland. This makes for a delightfully scenic,
serene view: just the river, the lush foliage on its banks, and the
occasional boatload of guests. If you wave to them as they pass,
they'll probably wave back! (From the Mark
Twain
or Columbia,
that is—the canoe riders have their hands full.) For a real treat—I
won't give away the specifics here—go after dark, sit on the lower
level, and watch the Disneyland Railroad come around the bend.
1973: Disney Retrospectives in the Main Street Opera
House
They can't all be instant winners. Putting The Walt Disney Story
in Disneyland several years after the man's death was probably a good
idea...but ousting “Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln,” one of
Walt's own best beloved attractions, in order to do it, was almost
certainly a bad one. At least the general public thought so, and so
the Opera House was only Lincoln-less for two years. But the
precedent had been established—even if Lincoln occupied the theatre
space itself, the lobby of the Opera House still made a great
venue for exhibiting Walt-related memorabilia, and The Walt Disney
Story film could still be shown on a smaller screen alongside the
display cases.
Amazingly enough, Lincoln and Walt ran side-by-side in the Opera
House all the way up to 2005, when they were both ushered offstage
in favor of an exhibit and film about the history of Disneyland as
part of the 50th Anniversary festivities. As before,
Lincoln eventually returned to the stage and the film, Disneyland—the
First 50 Magical Years, was relegated to the lobby with the rest
of the 50th swag, including a fantastic scale model of
Disneyland as it appeared on Opening Day. This situation doesn't look
like it's changing any time soon, but even if it is, it seems likely
that the Opera House, one of the first attractions people pass as
they enter the park, will continue to be prime real estate for
celebrations of its founder's legacy.
1974: Disneyland Railroad
Perhaps
I am cheating with this one a little. After all, there has been a
steam train circling Disneyland since Opening Day. But initially, it
was called the Santa
Fe and
Disneyland Railroad. It was nearly twenty years before it dropped the
Santa Fe part and became, simply, the Disneyland Railroad, the name
it still bears today. I don't think there's anyone who doesn't find
something about this ride to enjoy, whether it's the overall relaxing
pace, the “grand circle tour” of the entire park, the convenience
of not having to walk between lands, the awesome Grand Canyon and
Primeval World dioramas...or just the fact that once you sit down,
you can stay on it as long as you want. Try that
with the Indiana Jones Adventure.
1975: All-White King Arthur Carrousel
Sometimes a ride, while good, needs a major overhaul to become
perfect. And sometimes it just needs a coat of paint. It's pretty
common knowledge that King Arthur Carrousel is a vintage Victorian
carousel which the park purchased rather than building a new one, but
many may not remember that originally, its horses came in a variety
of colors. Cast Members noticed that children flocked to the white
ones and were often disappointed if they missed out, so in 1975—a
full century after the Carrousel's initial construction—all 72
horses were stripped down and repainted gleaming white. Not only was
the new color scheme a crowd-pleaser, it also made for a striking
canvas on which the horses could display their vivid, multi-colored
tack. Today, it's as difficult to image a King Arthur Carrousel where
the horses have different-colored hides as it is to imagine one where
any of them have all four hooves planted on the floor.
See you next week for the next batch of Diamonds!
* Nothing specific; this was just an example.
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