The
second half of my 60
Disneyland Diamonds for the Diamond Anniversary
starts now! For the first half, see here,
here,
and here. And if you just stumbled upon this blog and are completely
baffled as to what the 60 Diamonds series even is, see here!
1986: Big Thunder Ranch
If
you're wondering what could possibly be so great about this dusty
little back corner of quaint old Frontierland, I have two words for
you: Baby
goats.
There. Any counter-argument you might offer has just been rendered
invalid. In all seriousness, this is a great spot to take a break
when all the high-speed thrills and elaborate E-tickets in the rest
of the park get to be a little overstimulating, without feeling like
you're wasting your day at Disneyland doing nothing. Playing with
even-tempered farm animals is about as simple and low-tech as you can
get while still doing something fun that you don't get to do every
day. And that's without even taking into account that the Festival
Arena in back, for years available only for rental by private
parties, is now open to the public as a venue for Frontierland's live
entertainment, performances by amateur music and dance groups
visiting from around the world, and seasonal events. If you were in
the mood to extend a metaphor, you might say the Ranch is a Diamond
that was recently taken out and re-polished.
1987: Star Tours
I'm
not
at all shy
about sharing what
I find wrong
with this ride and with the very idea of having Star Wars material so
prominent in Disneyland, but I can't deny its importance to the park
and the high regard in which many other guests hold it. Star Tours
was a first in at least two ways: It was Disneyland's first
motion-simulator attraction...and more importantly, it was the first
time the Imagineers got to play with (what was at the time) someone
else's IP, to create a Disney-caliber experience from non-Disney
source material. And maybe the effect of that has been, in part, to
keep that source material alive
for younger generations of movie- and theme park-goers. Without Star
Tours, the entire Star Wars franchise might have faded into
semi-obscurity by now—no prequel trilogy, certainly
no incentive for Disney to buy LucasFilm and start making a sequel
trilogy, maybe no more LEGO sets. Without Star Tours, Disney probably
wouldn't have bothered with the Indiana Jones Adventure (see below)
and other Indy-related attractions in their parks, which themselves
were likely instrumental in maintaining public interest in that
franchise. If not for the success of Star Tours, Disney might not
have bothered buying the rights to the Muppets in order to build
MuppetVision 3-D and film new Muppet movies, and they
might have faded away. And all these consequences would have
consequences of their own...we can scarcely imagine the landscape of
popular culture in a world where Star Wars was forgotten after the
Eighties.
So maybe I shouldn't be quite so hard on Star Tours. And I can start
by awarding it Diamond status.
1988:
Peace With Frontierland's Indians
Encounters with friendly Indians have always been part of the
Frontierland experience—even after the Indian Village attraction
closed in order to make room for Bear Country, animatronic Indians
still watched and waved at the boats on the Rivers of America. But
these peaceful scenes used to be preceded by one of carnage—a log
cabin lit afire by a hostile tribe, its former occupant sprawled dead
out front with an arrow in his chest. After such a dramatic sight,
the friendly Indians could seem almost like an afterthought. The
“Cowboys vs. Indians” assumption was a long-standing feature of
stories set in the Old West, of course, particularly when Disneyland
opened...but by the Eighties it was considered poor taste to depict
the natives, rather than the invading white settlers, as the sole
aggressors. And the park was hardly going to position its own guests
in the role of historical villains. So the Indian attack story was
dropped. The cabin remained alight for several more years, with
various explanations offered, before someone intelligent asked why
the flames were necessary at all. But since 1988, relations between
the Frontierland pioneers and the local tribes have been nothing but
good.
1989: Splash Mountain
So the story goes, Imagineer Tony Baxter got the idea for this ride
while sitting in Southern California freeway traffic. The joke there
practically writes itself, but you can't argue with the end results.
Splash Mountain is a success on every level. From the point of view
of Disneyland management, it solved three problems at once: 1) It
brought a much-needed log flume ride to the park, 2) it saved the
excellent audio-animatronic characters from the obsolete America Sings from being chucked into storage, and 3) it completely
revitalized what was at the time the least popular area of the park.
From the point of view of the analyst fans like Yours Truly, this is
a film-based attraction done right—minimal front-loading of story
information (letting the events of the ride's story speak for
themselves), a layout that positions riders in the midst of scenes
and exposes them to the same events as the characters they are
following...and as a bonus, it's based not on the latest
record-busting, dollar-raking cinematic release, but a film that is
little known in the mainstream and only becoming less known as
time passes without an official video release.* From the point of
view of everyday guests, it's just a fantastic ride, combining
thrills with cute characters and charming set pieces. It does it all
so right that there's only one thing to complain about—the length
of the queue!
1990: Parasol Cart
Technically, the Parasol Cart is just the latest in a long line of
New Orleans Square vendors selling personalized art as souvenirs. But
it offers one huge advantage over the portrait and caricature
artists: You don't have to sit still in a chair for upwards of
fifteen minutes while the artist in question does their thing. Just
tell them your name and how to spell it and what all else you want
painted on the panels of your parasol, leave them to it...and come
back in an hour or two after the paint has had a chance to dry. And
the prices are quite reasonable for a souvenir that is both
custom-detailed and as substantial and functional as a parasol.
I also like that it's in New Orleans Square. You would expect to find
such a thing in Fantasyland alongside all the other Princessy stuff,
but the people who plan these sorts of things are clearly thinking
“Southern belle” rather than just “Belle.” The color palette
is equally broad-minded—white and delicate pastels, certainly, but
bold red, fuchsia, and even black (for the Goths wandering over from
the Haunted Mansion, apparently) are also on offer.
1991: Disney Villains
Early in the Disney Renaissance, perhaps in order to kick its overly
saccharine, childish reputation and convince moviegoers that the
standards for animated movies had indeed been permanently raised,
Disney launched the Villains merchandise brand. Whereas most Disney
sub-brands such as Princess or Winnie-the-Pooh are aimed at children,
Disney Villains primarily targets adults—children don't tend to
identify with the baddie who dies at the end of the movie, but many
adults are more than willing to proclaim their lack of innocence. To
promote this concept, the little shop just inside the Fantasyland
courtyard on the east side (next to the archway that leads out to
Snow White's Grotto) was designated the Disney Villains shop (later
the Villains' Lair) and stocked with clothing and gifts featuring
characters such as Captain Hook, Maleficent, and Ursula.
The shop itself is no longer there—that retail space went through a
few different identities before settling down as the Castle Heraldry
Shoppe—but the Disney Villains brand is still going strong. You
just might need to hunt a little harder to find it in Disneyland. I
recommend starting in New Orleans Square, where the two Jacks,
Skellington and Sparrow, are often joined in their own retail spaces
by similarly frightening or anti-social characters from the genuinely
evil side of the moral chasm. On the other hand, the Heraldry Shoppe
does retain some vestiges of its days as the one-stop shop for all
things wicked. There's usually a small rack of Villain shirts
available for sale, and the shop's music system still plays, albeit
very faintly, the same loop of flamboyant songs and scary score
pieces that help make the Villains so memorable in the movies.
1992: Fantasmic!
The thing you have to realize about Fantasmic! is that when it
debuted, it blew our freaking minds. Pretty much everyone was
on board as soon as they saw the promotional art of Sorcerer Mickey
fighting all those Disney Villains...but I don't think we could
possibly have foreseen what we were in for. Fantasmic! is the art of
Disneyland entertainment at its most magnificent, combining every
theatrical art imaginable, from dance and puppetry, through
pyrotechnics and stunt choreography, all the way to state-of-the-art
fiber-optics and the then-revolutionary water screens. And it's all
set to outstanding music and used in the service of a bona-fide
three-act story. It's a rare nighttime show that has a story of any
kind, let alone epic Disney crossover fanfiction. It
demonstrates respect for both the source material, showing that it
can withstand such a high-concept treatment, and for the audience,
acknowledging that they—ahem, that we—not only don't mind
seeing beloved characters recontextualized in this way, but solidly
appreciate it. Or to put it more simply: Disney's classic animated
properties work well as part of a shared Disney continuity, and
Mickey Mouse fits the role of badass action hero just as well as he
does that of the comic Everyman.
Fantasmic! It deserves the exclamation point.
1993: Partners
One of Walt Disney's quirkier decisions regarding Disneyland's design
was that he didn't want to feature his own image anywhere in the
park. This can't have been because he wanted to disguise his personal
involvement; he named the place after himself, after all. It was the
Cold War; maybe he thought it a little too Stalinesque to have
portraits and statues of himself in a place that he so often visited
in person? A little too personality cult-ish? In any event, his
successors obviously saw no reason to hold to that policy after his
death. And maybe Walt was onto something, because I won't lie—there
are corners of the Disney fandom that ramp up the Adoration of Saint
Walt to potentially unhealthy levels.
But if this is a real problem, the blame surely doesn't lie with
Partners, which is anything but pompous. In fact it's
charmingly restrained—just a life-sized bronze of Walt holding
hands with Mickey Mouse, placed on a low pedestal for visibility but
hardly looming over the Plaza Hub the way you would expect if it were
intended as a monument. The sculptor—Imagineering Legend Blaine
Gibson—has depicted Walt as pleased with his success but still
humble enough to be relaxed and personable, waving his free hand up
Main Street as if saying to Mickey “Look what we built together!”
(Actually, if you extend the line of his arm, it looks like he might
be pointing toward the apartment over the Fire House—fodder for
wild theories!) It's a touching tribute to Disneyland's founder, and
a fine enhancement to the small-town theming of Main Street.
1994: Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin
One of Upper Management's less savvy moves of the 1990s was to
open Mickey's Toontown without its signature E-ticket, hoping to get
one park attendance boost from the debut of the land and then another
a year later when they announced the opening of the ride. It didn't
really work for its intended purpose, but at least said ride was, of
itself, worth the wait. Arguably, Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin is
actually two rides in one—a dark ride like Pinocchio's Daring
Journey, and a carnival spinner like the Mad Tea Party.
Moreover, it perfectly illustrates something that I think ride
designers could stand to re-learn, which is that you can build a ride
with a definite plot concerning animated characters without
sacrificing the riders' sense of participation and involvement. You
don't have to just summarize the movie, either. Strange but true!
Car Toon Spin's popularity has waned alongside that of its title
character, but this shouldn't be taken as an indication that
attractions need to be based on currently hot properties in order to
succeed. The ride also has its location working against it; the name
alone isn't enough to entice people who aren't already familiar with
it into a remote corner of the park that has little else to do. But
even by current standards, more than 20 years after the fact, it's an
immensely inventive ride, so chock-full of clever details that you
could ride it a dozen times and not spot them all. Mickey's Toontown
may not be long for this world—if you've never given this
attraction a look, make sure you do!
1995: Indiana Jones Adventure
Here's where I out myself as a massive hypocrite, or at least reveal
my personal biases: I am a big fan of the Indiana Jones Adventure. I
give it all the love I withhold from the other thrill ride based on a
LucasFilm IP with Harrison Ford in it. I could do a
compare-and-contrast as to why this is so, but I don't think a 60
Diamonds post is really the place for it. So I'll just gush about
Indy as it is.
The Indiana Jones Adventure is Imagineering at its absolute best. The
whole package is top-notch—excellently placed, exquisitely themed,
well in tune with its source material without copying it wholesale,**
technologically brilliant, seamlessly presented, and just plain fun.
The queue would make a worthy attraction all by itself: a good
half-mile of switchbacks and corridors both outside and inside the
eponymous Temple of the Forbidden Eye, with scenery every bit as
detailed and immersive as that on the ride itself (if not more so,
since you pass it more slowly and in better lighting), intriguing
runic messages carved into the walls, a few interactive elements, and
even peril in the form of a spiked ceiling that threatens to
collapse. And that's just the queue. Imagine how kickass the
ride is after a build-up like that.
Actually, I'm sure you don't have to imagine. I'm all but dead
certain you've seen it for yourself. The number of people who are
enough into Disneyland to read blogs about it but have never bothered
to go on Adventureland's only thrill ride—or failing that, to watch
hi-def videos on YouTube—has to be around, oh, zero. And the
number of people who have experienced it, but don't like it, isn't
much greater. The Indiana Jones Adventure hits all the right notes.
It's an astounding, groundbreaking work of art, quite conceivably the
sparkliest Diamond I've covered to date.
What a great place to end this week's post! See you next week!
* The controversy surrounding Disney's ongoing refusal
to make Song of the South available to American audiences is a
subject for a blog post all on its own. But not on my blog. Talk
to FoxxFur.
** It hits a lot of the same beats from the various
tomb-exploration sequences in the Indiana Jones movies, but the
context and the details are quite different.
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