It Came From The Fandom: The Happiest Place

Once again, I find myself lacking the wherewithal to produce a full post in time for Monday, so I'm stealing content from elsewhere on the Net and calling it a friendly cross-promotion, or whatever. Ironically, part of the reason for my malaise is that I spent Saturday at Disneyland, taking in the re-opened Disneyland Railroad, Rivers of America, and Fantasmic!—more on all that hopefully next week, after I've had a few days to get my thoughts in order.

For now, I offer you...fanfiction. Oh, stop making that face. It's true that the vast majority of fanfiction—no matter the fandom—is completely terrible, due to the barriers to entry being basically non-existent. But by the same token, it's no harder for a talented writer to self-publish online than a godawful one, so once in a while you might stumble something genuinely worth reading. Today I'd like to share a bona-fide unicorn: a fanfic about Disneyland itself, starring actual Disney characters (not the author's own dull self-insert) on an epic adventure to save the magic!

No, it's not my own “Crowns of the Kingdom” (though if you'd like to make my day...sidebar link, hint hint!). This unexpected treasure is called “The Happiest Place,” by fanfiction.net author ForTalosandtheEmpire. Not only is it well-written in general, but it hits all the right notes for my ideal Disneyland-based story, blending action, fantasy, heartfelt character moments, and, best of all, a baked-in appreciation for the magic of Disneyland quite apart from its status as the place where characters live. Most fanfic writers who tackle Disney theme parks tend to go with one of two portrayals—either they're “just” theme parks, or they harbor secret portals to the Magical Realms of Disney (i.e. the settings of the movies, Kingdom Hearts-style). ForTalosandtheEmpire has somehow hit upon an elusive sweet spot between the two, resulting in a depiction of Disneyland as we fans experience it, not necessarily as it is in objective reality.

If you're feeling hard-up for some of that good old Disneyland magic and have spare time for reading, you could do a lot worse.

Sentimental Paleontology: He Was Here to Change the World

I begin writing this post with very little idea what I am going to say. As far as I am concerned, the ultimate, definitive, never-to-be-surpassed post about Captain EO already exists, courtesy of the superbly insightful FoxxFur. You can read it here, and you should. I won't be offended if you read it before, or even instead of, my post. It really is a masterful summation of why Captain EO works, or if it doesn't exactly work, why it nonetheless achieves a sort of endearing somethingness that I don't even have words for.

See, I'm barely one paragraph into this thing and I'm already at loose ends. Am I finally in over my head? Have I at last discovered my limits when it comes to Disneyland blogging?

Has Captain EO defeated me?

The answer is contained within the question. No, Captain EO has not defeated me. Captain EO is not a defeating kind of character; that is the whole point.

Let me start over.

I vividly remember when this short film debuted in Tomorrowland's Magic Eye Theater. How could I not? The TV ad spot showed up in pretty much every commercial break that summer. As a nine-year-old with very little celebrity awareness, I was only vaguely aware of George Lucas and had never heard of Francis Ford Coppola, but Michael Jackson? Now that name had cachet, even with me.

But maybe—and this is where this narrative goes off the rails—not enough.

Imagineering Theory: The Art of Placemaking, Part 2

So I have this theory of sorts regarding how themed areas at Disney parks come across independent of whatever attractions they might boast. I think in order to “work” (however you might interpret that word), a themed area needs to a) represent an easily recognizable concept, and b) entice on the basis of said concept, before you even consider rides and such. Last week, I did a rundown of the lands of Disneyland to see how they stack up, and this week, the quest continues with California Adventure.

Imagineering Theory: The Art of Placemaking, Part 1

So a couple weeks ago, I was not entirely critical of the announced plan to remake Paradise Pier into “Pixar Pier.” Even though I assume this will ultimately end up meaning “basically the same thing but with pictures of characters everywhere,” it at least has the potential to wind up marginally more interesting than what we currently have, which is perhaps best described as “I dunno, carnival rides and stuff—hey look! Mickey Mouse!” I know there's supposed to be some sort of “Victorian seaside amusement park” motif going on, but honestly? It doesn't come across that well. It's going to be hard to convince me that it's the 1890s while simultaneously going “Hey look! Mickey Mouse!”

But let's be real for a moment here...unless I have radically misunderstood John Lasseter's intentions, “Pixar Pier” is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a proper area theme. It occurs to me that one of the problems with current design directions in the Disney parks is that a fundamental misunderstanding of what area theming is, has taken root among both designers and fans. People have somehow gotten the idea that area theming is nothing more than some rides that are placed close together and have something in common (and that “something” can be nothing more than a brand).

But it's not, is it? Proper area theming is sometimes referred to with another word: placemaking. I have never seen this word used in any other context and have no idea when or by whom it was coined, but it's such a perfect encapsulation of what good area theming does: it makes a place. And I believe that the success or failure of a themed area as a whole hinges on whether or not guests a) recognize that place, and b) consider it a good place to be, outside of the attractions.

Can we get any additional insight by examining the existing themed areas of the Disneyland Resort and seeing how they hold up? Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?