Armchair Imagineering: Moana's Grand Voyage Parade

Remember when Disneyland used to run parades based on a single movie? It was a Nineties phenomenon—the Disney Renaissance was redefining theatrical animation, but the suits weren't quite ready to devote permanent theme park real estate to new films yet, so they went all-in on live entertainment. Some of the Renaissance movies were honored with summary stage adaptations (leaning heavily on the musical numbers, natch), others with parades, but one way or another, nearly every one of them got some sort of show all to itself.

I kinda miss that. Not just the creativity that went into spinning an entire full-length parade concept out of the imagery of just one film, but the frequency with which the parades were rotated as new movies were released. We had an average of about one new daytime parade every two years throughout the Nineties, whereas now? The last new daytime parade was rolled out in 2011—and granted, said parade is Mickey's Soundsational and I don't exactly have anything to complain about, and we've also gotten Paint the Night in the meantime, but that's still eight years without anything fresh for the daylight hours.

I sometimes think about what it would have been like if the single-film parade tradition had been maintained, or at least revived once Disney regained confidence in its animated features. It almost was—a parade was planned for The Princess and the Frog before being scaled back to just one unit* of Soundsational—and I can drive myself to distraction wondering what a Tangled parade would look like. Or a Wreck-it Ralph parade.

But by far the best 2010s candidate for adaptation into a parade is Moana. Disney Renaissance parades grew out of movies where it made some amount of sense in-universe to hold a parade or similar event. Aladdin's Royal Caravan was basically a fifteen-minute expansion of the Prince Ali sequence, the Mulan Parade was very much like a Chinese New Year parade with lion dancers, acrobats, and jugglers. Moana is a film about a personal journey wrapped up in a physical journey—how better to represent that than with an attraction that literally moves from one end of Disneyland to the other?

Board my boat and strap in while I take you through the Moana's Grand Voyage Parade!

Overall

There are two main influences on the design of floats and costumes in this parade: the natural beauty of the South Pacific, and authentic Polynesian art. Authenticity is immensely important here—Moana is a movie that at least tries (and, I think, largely succeeds) to treat its inspiring culture with high respect, and its parade should be no different. Additionally, all the human characters in the parade—named or otherwise—are portrayed by actual Pasifika performers. (This is L.A., don't try to tell me we don't have a big enough talent pool.)

The music is relatively simple; a single-film parade can just draw on music from that one film, instead of requiring a special medley for each unit. The “underliner,” playing consistently throughout the length of the procession, is “We Know the Way,” repeating both the Tokelauan and English verses in alternation. Individual units have music of their own, arranged to blend seamlessly with the underliner without losing the determined, driving beat.

The show features a handful of large floats, representing important scenes from the movie, and between each major unit comes one or two small vehicles made to look like outrigger boats, each one occupied by one or two voyagers. They drive their boats, varying their speed, meandering from side to side across the parade route, and periodically lean over to brush their fingertips on the ground as if feeling currents, or pause to do the “measuring the stars” gesture. (Obviously this last bit will be more convincing at night, but the appearance is the thing.) The idea being conveyed with these is that it is not just Moana's story, but the story of her people, who were voyagers once, and through her example became voyagers again. The tone throughout is one of triumph and beauty—although some of the hazards Moana faces on her journey are included, they are portrayed more for comedy than threat.

Opening Unit: The Voyagers

The lead float in the parade takes the form of a medium-large outrigger boat, helmed by a man costumed so that he is recognizable as the ancient chief from the “We Know the Way” vision. Several other men and women crew this boat, singing/lip-synching along with the song in the parade soundtrack. Some light stunt work may be possible here, with sailors leaning and hanging off parts of the boat while they operate the oars and sail. This is followed by at least two of the aforementioned small boat vehicles.

Next comes a row of dancers in costumes suggesting flowing water, seaweed and conch shells. These represent the Ocean, and their dance moves include lots of undulating motions. After them comes an even larger float, designed to resemble a cresting wave with Moana on her outrigger at the top of the crest. The sides of the float are mechanized with rotating wave forms, suggesting tumbling open water. Moana is constantly active, busying herself about the boat as well as waving to guests. The music from this float blends the melody of “How Far I'll Go” with the underliner.

Second Unit: Motonui

The next parade unit represents Moana's home island of Motonui. The float resembles a beautiful green tropical island covered in palm trees and bamboo huts, with members of Moana's tribe riding on it and passing baskets of coconuts around in time to the music. The dancers accompanying this float wear traditional South Pacific costume and perform hula-like dance moves (not actually Hawaiian hula, which is culturally specific enough to be inappropriate, but...this is something the Polynesian cultural consultants can hash out).

On the back end of the float sits a mechanized Pua the pig with an oar in his mouth. Following closely is a face character of Gramma Tala, accompanied by a troupe of dancers dressed as stingrays that swirl around her.

Third Unit: Kakamora

This unit is pretty straightforward: a float resembling the Kakamora's “bamboo Mad Max” oceangoing rig:

Ideally, it could be made of several segments which separate and rejoin as the parade progresses. Either way, this is a great opportunity for more stunt work, with performers in Kakamora costumes sliding along ropes, bouncing on a trampoline made up like a giant drum, etc. For safety and mobility, their costumes might have to be limited to masks and bodysuits rather than full bulbous coconut bodies, so more performers in more detailed costumes march with the float, waving harpoons and blowpipes.

Fourth Unit: Lalotai, the Realm of Monsters

This unit begins with a troupe of dancers in costumes that combine black and dark cobalt blue with dayglo neon colors, their shapes suggestive of coral, sea anemones, and monstrous fish. The lead dancer wears this special four-armed getup:

Following the dancers is a float covered with more coral and anemones...and a massive figure of Tamatoa, the giant, treasure-encrusted coconut crab. He swivels slowly back and forth on his base, and his head, eyestalks, and jaws are puppeteered from within so he can lean and stretch toward the guests while he recites his prerecorded dialogue. The float adds “Shiny” to the underliner.

This unit looks even more impressive during the night run of the parade, as black lights along the parade route and on the float itself make the neon colors pop. Tiny white LEDs hidden in Tamatoa's carapace flash so that he glitters in any lighting conditions.

Finale Unit: Te Fiti the Mother Island

One last troupe of dancers wears costumes that evoke tropical flowers and birds, and their dance moves are accordingly swooping and graceful. They herald the final float in the parade: the goddess Te Fiti herself, her face animated to blink and smile. Her heart is in full view in the center of her chest, rather larger than it appears in the movie so that its green glow and spiral design are easily visible to guests.

Maui also appears on this float as a costumed character, brandishing his fishhook and flexing to entertain the guests. At certain points in the program, he performs a haka and ducks behind part of the float, only to re-emerge in his giant hawk form (actually a kite prop operated by a techie behind the scenes). Alternately, different forms of Maui's—not just the hawk, but the lizard, beetle, even “shark head”—could pop in and out of the float. Snippets of “You're Welcome” blend with the underliner music, appropriately enough for the final word in the “conversation” this parade has been having with us.

Please let me know what you think!

* The best one.