Sunday, June 7, 2015

60 Disneyland Diamonds: 1976-1985

60 Disneyland Diamonds for the Diamond Anniversary continues! If you need a refresher course, the previous entries are here, here, and here. And now, on with the show!


1976: Dole Whip


Even some of the signature snacks available at Disneyland are famous. Churros. Mickey Mouse ice cream bars. Turkey legs with an oddly ham-like component to the flavor. Popcorn in a souvenir plastic bucket. But the most celebrated by far must be the Dole Whip. American Airlines was a worthy sponsor for the Enchanted Tiki Room in its day, but it couldn't allow guests to sample its product right there in the park. When Dole Pineapple took over, they brought in the adjacent Tiki Juice Bar and its amazingly delicious frosty (vegan-compliant) pineapple desserts. The only downside is that they're available only in that location, and so popular that you might have to wait quite a while to get one!

1977: Space Mountain


In the Seventies, America developed a taste for fast roller coasters, and Disneyland was happy to oblige. Up until this point, the park had had only one coaster—the Matterhorn Bobsleds (two if you count the gravity-powered bits of the Casey Junior Circus Train). That all changed with Space Mountain, placed entirely inside a darkened building so that the track was rendered nigh-invisible as it spiraled tightly around the enclosed space. It was an instant hit, and to this day is usually considered the biggest thrill in the park.
For the first half of its existence, the ride's only soundtrack was the rattle of the machinery, the delighted squeals of riders, and a few whizzing noises to enhance the outer space setting, but in 1996, the Imagineers added musical accompaniment, timed to correspond to the track's dips and turns. It started with a version of Camille Saint-Saens's “Aquarium” as reinterpreted by legendary surf rock guitarist Dick Dale...and if that combination doesn't tilt your head, read it again until it does. A famously ethereal piece of ocean-themed classical music transformed into surf rock and used as the soundtrack for an outer space-themed roller coaster. Only at Disneyland, my friends. Only Disneyland could make it work as well as it did.
But they weren't done yet! In 2005, Space Mountain was revamped on a large scale. The track layout remained the same, but the inside queue was entirely remodeled and many of the ride's effects were updated. And an entirely new piece of music was composed to give auditory enhancement to the coaster's motion, a piece by film composer Michael Giacchino which is still in use today. A slower reprise of it plays throughout the exit corridor, marking it as a true theme for the attraction.

1978: Harold


Disneyland's roller coaster mania continued in 1978 with...not a new coaster, but a massive overhaul of an existing one. The magnificent Matterhorn, already an innovator in its day for its steel-tube track, had its interior completely redesigned. The formerly hollow mountain was renovated with scenes of icy caverns, clusters of glowing crystals...and a monster. Outsiders refer to it as either the Yeti or the Abominable Snowman, but Disneyland aficionados know him as Harold, the name jokingly assigned by Cast Members (and reportedly enshrined in a slogan displayed by the ride's control computer upon booting up: “Harold isn't going to like this”). Despite his jolly-sounding moniker, Harold is portrayed as a cranky beast, furious about the sleds' intrusion into his lair. His glowing red eyes, snarling bluish face, and ear-splitting roar have been terrifying Disneyland guests for going on two generations now...and as of a couple weeks ago, he's meaner and scarier than ever. Recognizing that any story is only as good as its villain, Imagineering has brought Harold and his vendetta against innocent mountaineers into the 21st Century. Make sure to give him some time on your next visit!

1979: Big Thunder Mountain Railroad


Disneyland closed out the Seventies with a roller coaster hat trick, and in some ways Big Thunder Mountain is the best of the lot. It's definitely the longest of the coasters, clocking in at around three and a half minutes of ride time. It's also the biggest in terms of attraction footprint...but quantity doesn't equal quality, right? How does it measure up in terms of the things that really count? Quite well, in my opinion. Its landscape, mimicking the sandstone buttes of the Southwestern United States, is not only quite realistic on its own merits, but almost seamlessly integrated with the surrounding area. The Matterhorn is just kind of awkwardly stuck in the middle of the park and Space Mountain is slightly less awkwardly jammed in a corner, but Big Thunder Mountain looks natural enough to attract actual wildlife in the form of blue-belly lizards. Lizards. At Disneyland.
The ride itself fits neatly into the setting—an out-of-control mine train is as good a concept for an Old West-themed roller coaster as anything I can think of,* and in my opinion it works even better now that they've ditched the murky backstory about sacred Indian land and an earthquake and re-framed the climax of the ride as a simple dynamite accident. (It's also more in line with contemporary sensibilities, which would dictate that sacred Indian land ought to be given back to the Indians and not mined at all.)
To me, though, one of the great things about Big Thunder Mountain Railroad is the way it literally builds on what used to be in its location. Usually when a ride's popularity slips enough to justify replacing it, the replacement is something entirely different. But Big Thunder Mountain basically is the Mine Train Through Nature's Wonderland, made over for thrills. The mountain landscape itself is the Painted Desert on steroids, the first lift takes you through the Rainbow Caverns, and the Western town you pass by just as the ride ends is Rainbow Ridge from the Mine Train's load area, the very same structures transplanted. Even the ride vehicles look almost identical, though obviously the Big Thunder trains have to be a lot more robust in order to handle the demands of roller coaster motion. Attractions very often include hidden tributes to whatever they replaced, but Big Thunder Mountain is, in its entirety, a tribute to its predecessor. There's something about that that I find really appealing.

1980: Pieces of Eight


When people feel like criticizing Disney's current business practices from a consumer-advocacy point of view, they often accuse the park of having every ride exit directly into a themed souvenir shop. This is an exaggeration on the face of it—only some rides have a shop situated at the exit and most of them allow you to bypass it—but it happens often enough to be noticeable. However, it's nothing all that new. It goes back at least to 1980 or thereabouts, when the Pirates Arcade and Museum that formerly greeted guests exiting Pirates of the Caribbean was converted into just such a themed shop.
But as these things go, Pieces of Eight isn't a bad one. Not only can you bypass it, but that's arguably easier than going in as you leave the ride, especially in the last few years since the door that actually faces onto the exit corridor was boarded up. The actual theming is really solid, with interior décor that resembles aged wood and rough-worked iron, a wonderful chandelier featuring the carved figure of a monkey in a vest and tricorne hat, and maybe best of all, an inventory that sticks to the pirate motif. Many of the park's larger stores don't actually carry enough items relating to their stated theme to fill the shelves, and so make up the difference with wholly generic stuff—basic plush characters and keychains and the like. Pieces of Eight is modest enough not to have to do this, so it can focus entirely on piratical swag, from movie DVDs to plastic cutlasses. Best of all, some of the Pirates Arcade remains: a “Fortune Red” fortunetelling machine and another machine that stamps a custom message into a souvenir coin. It's a real treasure trove...even if the gems are toys and the weathered old skulls made of resin.

1981: Imagineering Books


Disney's Imagineers are modern-day wizards—bringing inanimate objects to life, transporting us to other worlds, summoning fairies and demons to our world, and basically performing all the tricks attributed to the sorcerers of old. Surely, like those sorcerers, they must jealously guard their secrets from the masses. Right? Actually...no! As it turns out, the Imagineers are happy to share the principles of their success with the public...or that segment of the public that buys books, at any rate. Dozens of individual volumes that could fall under the heading of “Imagineering books” are on the market today, varying widely in size, subject matter, and reading level...but the first (or at least the first of any significance), as far as I can tell, was Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston. This is such a comprehensive and authoritative guide to the principles of animation that students of the art use it as a textbook to this day. And while animation might seem at best tangential to Imagineering, many employees of Disney were pioneers in both fields and the art design of Disneyland was greatly informed by what had worked in the animated features. Furthermore, the success of The Illusion of Life proved that people were interested in going behind the scenes to see how the Disney maestros and maestrettes worked their magic. In that sense, this important book paved the way for later tomes like John Hench's Designing Disney, Jeff Kurtti's Walt Disney's Imagineering Legends and the Genesis of the Disney Theme Park, and even the bite-sized, hands-on collaborative work The Imagineering Workout. And in case you're wondering...yes, these books and others are for sale at Disneyland itself!

1982: All-Day Unlimited-Use Passports


This is potentially one of the more controversial Diamonds on my list; many fans of the park prefer (or would like to try out for comparison) the old system wherein park admission was relatively cheap, but you had to buy a separate coupon for admission to each attraction you wanted to experience. I can see the pros and cons of both, from the perspectives of both guests and park management—possibly a topic for a future post—but ultimately, I like the convenience of being entitled to board any ride or watch any show in the park by virtue of having legitimately gotten through the Main Gate. No need to carefully husband ride coupons, no need to grope through your pockets or wallet for the right one at the ride entrance, no need to stand in yet another line to buy more if you run out. And if I ever have a day where I just want to soak in the ambiance...well, that's part of why I got an Annual Pass. So on balance, I'm going to go ahead and call this a good move.

1983: New Fantasyland
 

We're into the period of my own early childhood here, and this is the first Diamond whose debut I actually remember first-hand. I barely have any recollection of the old Fantasyland—just one sparse memory of going inside a pirate ship that was actually a restaurant and eating tuna fish sandwiches. I don't remember Fantasyland with carnival-tent facades. I don't remember the original versions of the dark rides. I don't remember the Fantasyland Theater (the original, not the one west of “it's a small world”). But I vividly remember riding the Skyway during the renovation, looking down on those torn-up buildings and ground surfaces, and getting a feeling of anticipation for how much better it would be when it was done. And I remember going back the next year, seeing the completed New Fantasyland, and being bowled over by how much cooler it was than it had been before.
That's right—I have memories of remembering something, but not the actual memories of the thing I was remembering back then. Brains are weird.
A great deal has been said about the improvements brought to Fantasyland via this remodel, about the highly atmospheric Bavarian architectural motifs and the improved traffic flow now that the Carrousel isn't right smack behind the Castle. Less often mentioned is the way the remodel tightened up the arrangement of sub-themes in the area. The Mad Tea Party and Mad Hatter shop were moved closer to the Alice in Wonderland dark ride. Dumbo the Flying Elephant was moved over to line up with the Casey Junior loading area. And the former site of the Fantasyland Theatre saw the construction of three new fixtures based on Pinocchio, which was at that time scheduled for a theatrical re-release.** (I have more to say about the Fantasyland sub-themes in this post.) Fantasyland has always been a joy to experience, but since 1983, it's also a joy to simply behold.

1984: Annual Passports


Only two years after discontinuing ride coupons in favor of the Unlimited-Use Passport, Disneyland upped the ante with the introduction of the first Annual Passport. My identifying this move as a Diamond will be even more controversial than the other—I've certainly participated in my share of online arguments over whether the Annual Passport program helps or hurts the park, overall. As is often the case, I can see both sides of it...but I won't be canceling my Annual Pass any time soon! If nothing else, the frequent visits afforded to me by my AP give me ample material for this blog. That should be reason enough for you to be in favor of the program, yes? No?
What's interesting to note is that the Annual Passport program is simultaneously an extension of the Unlimited-Use Passport concept, and a means for some to counteract its one big downside. Think about it. Under the old system, you paid a small amount to get into Disneyland, and then extra for the ability to go on rides. Under the new system, you pay one large amount up front, and you're covered for the day. With an Annual Passport, you pay even more up front, and you're covered for a whole year. That's the extension aspect. The counteraction aspect lies in the fact that when you have an Annual Passport, you don't feel the pressure to “make the most” of your day by scrambling to go on as many rides as possible. If, on a given trip, you just want to wander around and take in the atmosphere, you can do that without feeling like you're wasting this rare and expensive chance to ride Space Mountain. It's okay. You're paid up. You'll catch Space Mountain next time around.

1985: Year-Round Daily Operation


Disneyland is open today. It was open yesterday. It will be open tomorrow, barring some unforeseen catastrophe. The above is true no matter what day of the week it is that you're reading this. But it wasn't always this way. Disneyland used to operate only from Wednesday to Sunday, with Mondays and Tuesdays reserved for maintenance that might interrupt “the guest experience” if it went on during operating hours. It surprised me when I first learned this; I had assumed that Disneyland had been a seven-days-a-week institution from the start. And it surprised me again when I was researching this post and learned that the switch to daily operations had occurred during my lifetime. When I was a kid, of course, my parents were hardly about to pull me out of school (and skip work themselves) to go to Disneyland, so it was of no consequence to me that the park was closed on two weekdays.
So what spurred the change? Disneyland attendance at the time was pretty flat, so it couldn't have been the need to alleviate overcrowding. Rather, I think the idea must have been to drive greater attendance—greater loyalty—by being available every day. Simply knowing that a place is open seven days a week inflates its perceived importance. Hospitals and police stations and grocery stores—the necessities of civilization—are open every day. And for half of its existence, Disneyland has been too. Whenever you have a day free to go and see it, it's there for you.

This was a tough set to complete. Not a whole lot went on at Disneyland in the first half of the Eighties and I really had to stretch my criteria for what makes a Diamond. Things really picked up in the latter half of the Eighties and the Nineties, so be sure to drop by next week!

* Not that I've specifically given this one much thought.
** That's right, boys and girls, before home video became a major thing, Disney used to put their classic animated films back in theaters from time to time. How else would we have known about them?

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