I have literally been a regular Disneyland visitor as long as I
can remember. In fact, one of my very earliest memories is
of visiting Disneyland! With as many visits as I've racked up over
the years—it must be in the hundreds by now—I've also picked up,
well, some stories. Anyone with the money can walk in the front gate,
ride some rides, and leave. That's a typical Disneyland experience.
I've managed to have some fairly atypical experiences there—incidents
that were enviable, or especially memorable, or just plain silly.
Here, in no particular order, are some of the Unusual Things I've
Done At Disneyland:
Subtitle:
In Which I Review A Restaurant For A Bit And Then Go Off About The
SEA
I
know you’ve been on tenterhooks waiting for this one: my in-depth
review of the latest iteration of the big Adventureland eatery, the
Tropical Hideaway! I’d previously meandered around the seating area
and looked at stuff, but only on my most recent trip to the park did
I finally take some time to enjoy the Hideaway in full.
I’ll start by
saying…it’s not very well named. The phrase “tropical hideaway”
is of course drawn from the lyrics of “(In the) Tiki Tiki Tiki
Room,” but there’s nothing hidden about this place—it’s open
to view from the main walkway in a way that its immediate
predecessor, Aladdin’s Oasis, was not. This isn’t really a
complaint, just an ironic observation.
Despite being so
very public, it's a nice little place to hang out for a while. It has
a unique music loop, featuring mid-century exotica by the likes of
Les Baxter and Augie Colon, and the food is garnering high praise
from just about everyone who tries it. There are two snack counters
in the Tropical Hideaway. The more obvious one, with a big
ostentatious sign, is Dole Whip, I Presume. The name alone is a
stroke of genius—it references the original Adventureland snack
stand, Sunkist, I Presume (which became the Bengal Barbecue in the
late Eighties), right down to the curly cursive font in which “I
Presume” is written:
But the thing is,
you don't have to be aware of that reference to get the name, because
it's all a riff on the famous “Dr.
Livingstone, I presume”
incident. This is a theme park reference done right. (We'll see about
some done wrong in a little while.)
So
it's been raining, here in
sunny
Southern California, and we're all a little confused. It kinda makes
me envy those Annual Passholders who are in college or whatever and
can just jet down to the park whenevs, because Disneyland is lovely
in the rain. It's cool, much of the crowd dissipates, and it's
especially nice after dark, with all the lights reflecting in the wet
pavement.
But
if you think about it...every day at Disneyland is a stormy one, at
least if you use your imagination. A surprisingly high number of
attractions use storm imagery to set the mood, drive the plot, and/or
shake things up. Howling winds, torrential rains, thunderbolts—all
these can be found in abundance throughout the park, in the form of
special and practical effects. With a little creative planning, you
could spin a little “meta-story” out of some of them.
And
creativity is, after all, what my Unauthorized
Fun
category is all about!
It
does not need to be literally raining for you to take advantage of
this unofficial tour; in fact, you'll have more control over the
beats of the “story” if there's no real weather to contend with.
On the other hand, a little real rain wont hurt you either. It's just
for fun, after all.
As
my readers may already be aware, there was a kerfuffle
in the Disney theme park fandom recently, concerning comments made by
Grand Poobah Bob Iger to the effect that IP-based attractions are
inherently superior to original ones. Big Bad Bob's description of
Expedition Everest as “nondescript” and “themed like India or
whatever” evoked such a backlash that it was later edited out of
the transcript of the interview where he said it, in addition to
which he assured us all over Twitter that he loves
Expedition Everest. But I don't think anyone takes him at his word,
because the insensitive wording was part of a larger assertion that
what guests really want out of their Disney theme park visit is to
encounter Disney characters (and that's why IP rides are so, so
great).
Except...Bob?
Disney characters are all over
the original attraction concepts. Expedition Everest itself has a
particular infamous one: the giant Yeti. He (?) may not be a
particularly detailed character, but he's still a character,
a recognizable one, and he was created for a Disney production, ergo
he is a Disney character.
And
if anything, Everest's Yeti is one of the least
interesting of the park-original characters, insofar as it's just a
huge ferocious animal. (Even that other
famous Disney theme park Yeti, Harold of the Matterhorn Bobsleds, has
a little more going on—he's a collector!*) There are quite a few
attraction personalities with a lot
more...well, personality. Turns out, the Imagineers are kind of
awesome at drawing characters in broad strokes so that you can get
what they're about even in the compressed timeframe of a typical
theme park attraction.
Anyone
remember this
post? No? Fair enough; it was an awfully long time ago by blog
standards. I guess that means I'm not repeating myself too badly if I
do another post about Disneyland-themed costumes!
First,
I should probably go ahead and re-post my photo collage from...jeez
Louise, five
years ago
at this point. AKA “That Time I Was the Small World Clock Tower For
Halloween”:
Not pictured: my dignity
(If
you're wondering, how did she do that?, please follow the link above.
If on the other hand you're wondering, why
did she do that?, I'm afraid I can't help you. Who knows why wackos
like me do anything?)
In
sharing the above with the internet, I have definitely outed myself
as one of the geekiest of the Disneyland geeks. Disney
Halloween costumes are thoroughly mainstream (and sold in the parks
in children's sizes), but Disneyland
Halloween costumes are the domain of the truly obsessed and, with
very
few exceptions, require DIY skills to achieve. So when you see
someone walking around dressed as an iconic character from the
parks—or even worse, an iconic structure
(*cough*)—you know you're witnessing a True Believer at work.
We're
rare, but we're out there. For this week's post, I'll share some of
the ones I found perusing Google.*
(Disclaimer:
Not all of these people are celebrating Halloween. Some of them are
at conventions, including D23.)
The Disneyland-related benefits of living in Los Angeles do not stop
with proximity to the resort itself. Because the park has remained
primarily of interest to locals (as opposed to tourists like its
Orlando counterpart), the hardcore fan community is pretty
centralized to Southern California. As well, this city being a major
hub—maybe the major hub—for the entertainment industry as
a whole means that, to put it delicately, there are quite a few
stinking rich people in this area. And that all means
that, on those rare occasions when Disneyland just up and gets rid of
something, it tends to end up in the possession of someone who lives
nearby...and in the fullness of time, many of these things come
back to the fan community in some way.
One of those ways is by being loaned for display to the Van
Eaton Galleries, an art distributor and auction house
headquartered in Sherman Oaks, CA, perhaps a 45-minute drive from
Disneyland...and about five miles away from the residence of Yours
Truly. I manage to drop in whenever they have a Disneyland
memorabilia collection on the premises. The subsequent auctions are
invariably too rich for my blood, but they let you take as many
photos in the meantime as you like.
For the most recent exhibit, still (barely) ongoing, they've ramped
things up. This time, the feature is the collection of Disneyland
megafan Richard Kraft, including everything from concept art to
decommissioned ride vehicles, and there weren't no way that was going
to fit into their regular exhibition rooms or even the overflow space
next door. So they've leased a two-story retail location* for a
full-on, museum-style pop-up exhibit and gift shop, freely open to
the public. The name of the exhibit? That's
From Disneyland!
That name says it all, doesn't it? They certainly know who their
audience is—people who know Disneyland's iconography by sight and
need no other reason to love it.
What? Of course I've been there. What kind of question is that? Here
are just a few of the nice photos I got...
I...actually
don't know how to categorize this post.
Slightly
old news at this point, I know, but I’ve been thinking lately about
the announcement earlier this year concerning a plan to gut Aladdin’s
Oasis and replace it with something called the Tropical Hideaway.
Details are sketchy so far, but the official
announcement describes it as an “exotic
traders' market” where Jungle Cruise skippers will hang out, and
the accompanying concept art depicts tables and chairs for outdoor
dining and what appear to be a few Tiki birds.
If
you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, you know
that my default reaction to these sorts of announcements is one of
extreme skepticism—i.e. “You’re doing WHAT to MY PARK???”—but
in this case, I’m actually all for it. The whole concept of
Aladdin’s Oasis in Adventureland has never sat right with me, for a
variety of reasons. Here are some of them:
Okay, so it wound up being two weeks instead. I'm still getting back
up to speed in more ways than one.
For
those of you in similar circumstances (getting up to speed, that is),
Flipping the Script
is my new post category addressing the wide (but perhaps not wide
enough) world of Disney-attractions-turned-movies. Last time, I
briefly examined the existing list of such movies to see what does
and doesn't work about them. Now it's time to start proposing my own
ideas for what Disney could do with this underserved concept in the
future. And the first one is perhaps a little obvious, but I think it
potentially has legs: the Enchanted Tiki Room!
Yes,
the blog is still on hiatus due to Yours Truly's knee injury, but
this topic intimately concerns said injury, so I figured I'd throw
you a bone. (All, what, three of you?) I may do this from time to
time until I'm properly back in the saddle and can commit to a weekly
schedule again. The point is, a torn ACL, etc. is no excuse to cancel
previously existing theme park plans, so the other day I got to
undergo the Disneyland Wheelchair Experience.
My
challenge was in fact twofold: 1) a complete inability to put weight
on my left leg, and 2) this big honking immobilizing brace they're
having me wear until further notice, additionally preventing me from
bending said leg...unless I take it off, which is technically an
option, but one I want to avoid as much as possible. I mention this
because it serves as a contrast with my previous secondhand glimpses
of the Disneyland Wheelchair Experience, with a party member who
could walk, just not for
hours at a time. No ride or attraction need be off-limits to such an
individual. I knew from the outset that my situation was going to be
a bit more dire than that.
So how did it work out? Here are some of the highlights. And
lowlights.
You
know what I haven't talked about in a good while? Video games.
I
like video games. I want to say I love them, but in all honesty? If I
truly loved them I'd probably play more of them. Keeping on top of
the medium takes a serious investment of time and money that I'm just
not willing to put in. It would too greatly hamper my ability to
pursue everything else I do...including this blog. I'm usually
vaguely aware of the latest developments in the industry, but the
most advanced console in my personal possession is...a PlayStation 2.
But
that's okay. You know what I can play on a PS2? Kingdom Hearts.
I've mentioned before that there are many similarities between
playing a video game, especially one with a “sandbox” structure,
and visiting a theme park. The games in the Kingdom Hearts series are
not very sandbox-y, but they are especially comparable to a
Disneyland visit, and not just because of the whole Disney
mega-crossover thing. Game progression in this series revolves around
traveling to a succession of “worlds,” like miniature planets,
each a unique setting with its own theme and quirks. In the first
game alone (the one I own and the only one I am especially familiar
with—see above), the playable worlds include a tropical
island, a gorilla-inhabited
jungle, an underwater
realm, a spooooooky
haunted realm, a pseudo-futuristic/steampunk/magepunk
palace, Wonderland,
Neverland, and the
100-Acre Wood.
Kingdom Hearts II adds a fairy
tale castle, a pirate
cove, a world of
classic cartoons, and a virtual
reality computer world, among others. I can't keep track of all
the prequels and interquels and whatnot cluttering up the franchise,
but the third proper installment is due to be released next
year, and...guys?
There's theme park in it.
One of the game's special features will have the hero summon ride
vehicles—actual ride vehicles, ranging in type from a Big
Thunder Mountain train to a pair of spinning Teacups—and ride in
them to gain advantages during battle sequences. As a charming bonus,
the vehicles show up outlined in little colored lights, Ã
la Electrical Parade floats:
Disney's most ambitious and unique concept has finally been included
in what is probably its most successful video game franchise. I'm
surprised the park fans aren't talking about it more.* But it's not
really fully integrated, is it? The “summons” in these
games are fun, but they're basically cameos. They're not part of the
story. The stuff that matters in these games is bound up in
the various worlds you travel to and the native characters you meet
there.
You can probably tell where I'm going with this. Just for fun, here's
some completely speculative fanwank on my part about how certain
Disneyland attractions might fit into the Kingdom Hearts series as
actual worlds. Naturally, there's more to consider than just “Is
this cool?” Ideally, a world for this game franchise should
combine:
A
striking setting
Potential
unique gameplay elements
Potential
thematic enemy types/bosses
Characters
who can be your allies
Even of the existing worlds, not all of them hit all four points, but
most of them hit at least three, and the exceptions are typically
uniquely positioned within the plot—for instance, in the first
game, “End of the World” contains no allies, but that's because
it's the last dang stage in the game, described as a
conglomeration of destroyed worlds—what friendly character could
reasonably be expected to show up there?
Ian Kay over at Pure
Imagineering has started presenting his followers with
Imagineering Prompts—just quickie creative exercises for the Disney
theme park fan community. I don’t have a Tumblr so I haven’t
responded directly, but in the interest of maintaining momentum over
here while I develop my Next Big Post, here are my responses to the
three he has offered so far.
(Don't
worry, I promise this will not turn into a LEGO blog.)
So
the Genie or the Blue Fairy or somebody must have bugged my apartment
back
in March, because the news has broken that the LEGO Company will
release a Disney castle later this year! It's going to be
Cinderella's Castle from Orlando, not Sleeping Beauty Castle, but a)
I predicted this in the earlier post, and b) I'll buy it anyway if I
can remotely justify the expense. I want to send a clear message to
the decision-makers in charge of this stuff that Disney theme park
LEGO sets are a VERY GOOD idea.
And
because my imagination is a naive optimist, it's taking this news and
running wild with more ideas for other Disneyland-based sets. Bear
with me while I geek out some more?
Disneyland
tells a lot of stories...a lot of extremely incomplete
stories. Even the longest, most intricately designed ride hasn't
enough time and space to give us all the details. We're left with a
sharply abridged narrative, or perhaps even just a series of
vignettes with no explicit “plot” to connect them.
It's
like I keep saying: this park is awesome.
A
story told piecemeal is practically an engraved invitation to fill in
the gaps with your own interpretations, speculations, and
headcanons.* These bits of fanfiction might be as simple as names
assigned to animatronic characters who don't have official ones,
or as elaborate as a “how they met” story for all 17 Country
Bears. The vast majority will probably fall somewhere in the middle.
(Tip
of the hat to fellow-blogger and commenter Cory Gross, whose recent
post about his kitbashed Disney board game
Talismouse started a conversation which led to this post.)
This
is going to be a bit of a different Armchair Imagineering
post than the usual. Instead of sharing my grand ideas for rides,
attractions, and holiday overlays, this one is about...souvenirs.
Merchandise. Swag.
Souvenirs
are obviously a big part of Disneyland, but most of the ones
available seem to revolve around Disney's film and television IPs.
It's not difficult to see why this is: It's easier to sell people
stuff they recognize than stuff that might be brand-new to them.
Tourists are having a terrific time at the park, to be sure, but they
might not be falling in love with the individual attraction
characters to the extent that they're willing to blow their
memorabilia budget on Hitchhiking Ghosts when that Winnie the Pooh
plush is right there, promising to make them feel like a kid again.
So there's a lot
more of the latter than the former lining the shelves.
Then, too, most of the merchandise that specifically references the
park treats Disneyland* like a holistic entity, with little attention
paid to its individual components. If you had only tee-shirts and
picture frames to go by, you could easily be forgiven for thinking
that the place consisted only of a castle with animated characters
cavorting around it:
Celebrating 60 Years of Painfully Generic Branding
More
specific items exist,
of course...but the execution is inconsistent. There are pins, if
you're into that sort of thing, and the odd plushtoy.
Beyond that, things start to get pretty pricey. At the low end, a
handful of the popular Ear
Hat Ornaments
are based on rides, but they're twenty-five bucks a pop, making it a
daunting task to build a collection. That, and they're Christmas tree
ornaments based on Mickey Mouse ear beanies, meaning that the rides
in question are not being allowed to stand on their own as souvenirs.
The “purer” the attraction merchandise gets, the more expensive
it gets. If you love more than one ride for its own sake, but you're
not rich, it can be all but impossible to express your love via
knickknacks.
It would be nice—I guess—to close out Adventureland August with a
bang, but the Disneyland Dilettante isn't just about the E-tickets
and momentous events. The smaller stuff definitely has its place here
too...maybe even a more cherished place, considering how often it's
overlooked by not only the general park-going public but even the
aficionados. There are entire websites dedicated to extolling the
virtues of the Haunted Mansion or catering to the exalted fraternity
of Jungle Cruise skippers, but when was the last time you saw even
the smallest blog post praising the Silhouette Studio?
This blog post is not about the Silhouette Studio. It's about a
feature of Disneyland that actually does have a following (though
it's still definitely a niche interest by normal standards):
background music.* This is one of those under-appreciated but
absolutely essential parts of the Disneyland experience, like the
standards of cleanliness. Most guests don't really notice that it's
there. They might not overtly notice if it were gone...but they would
certainly feel the detriment on some level. What would Main Street be
without its light orchestra instrumentals? The New Orleans Square
riverfront without its lively Dixieland jazz? Frontierland without
its Western folk tunes or Fantasyland without its (gasp) actual
Disney songs?
And where would Adventureland be without its...uh...hang on...huh.
Adventureland
does not have an overall area music loop. I can think of potential
reasons for this oddity. Perhaps there aren't enough good places
along the walkway to install speakers for such ambiance. Perhaps the
diversity of the locations represented is such that no single loop
could adequately serve. Perhaps it was decided that any
ambient music would detract from the impression of a remote area
where survival is Priority Number One and performing arts are an
unaffordable luxury.
Or
maybe, given how narrow the walkable space is, an overall loop would
clash with the queue loops for the individual attractions. Because
Adventureland does
have a plethora of background music tailored to its specific
offerings. This, of course, is one way to get around the second issue
mentioned above. So let's take a tour!
Welcome
back! Last week, I announced a new post series I'll be running here
at the Disneyland Dilettante in honor of Disneyland's 60th
birthday: 60
Disneyland Diamonds for the Diamond Anniversary.
So let's get the ball rolling with the first ten!
I had so much fun assembling last week's post about hosting an
Enchanted Tiki Room-themed luau that I decided to dedicate this
week's article to the attraction itself.
Having
already written one of these for the Jungle Cruise, the obvious thing
to do is a compare-and-contrast between these two Adventureland
attractions from Disneyland's first decade. So here it is: In
addition to the two points of commonality already mentioned, the
Jungle Cruise and the Enchanted Tiki Room both heavily feature comedy
involving audio-animatronic tropical animals. And that's about it for
similarities.
The
Jungle Cruise is a boat ride, the Enchanted Tiki Room a stationary
show. The Jungle Cruise evokes Africa, Southeast Asia, and South
America, while the Enchanted Tiki Room evokes Hawaii. The animals in
the Enchanted Tiki Room are all birds, while the Jungle Cruise
showcases a few birds, lots of mammals, some reptiles, and even fish
and insects. The Enchanted Tiki Room is about one-and-a-half times as
long as the Jungle Cruise—over twice as long if you include the
pre-show. The Enchanted Tiki Room revolves around music; the Jungle
Cruise decidedly does not. The Enchanted Tiki Room presents a
pre-programmed show that never varies, while the Jungle Cruise,
thanks to its live spiel, is different every time.
Spring has sprung and the weather is warming up! It's the time of
year when people start to think about moving their recreational
activities outdoors, and one of the classics is the luau. A better
term might actually be “Hawaii theme party,” since we mainlanders
don't usually follow all the genuine island traditions, but “luau”
is the accepted term used by all the party supply stores. Luau gear
is in abundance all throughout the spring and summer in the U.S.—all
the leis, tiki torches, and plastic piña
colada glasses molded to look like coconut halves that you could
want.
But this isn't just any party planning guide. This is the Disneyland
Dilettante! And when a Disneyland aficionado gets it into their head
to hold a luau, there's only one place to go...
To the Tiki, Tiki, Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room!
In
this issue of Kidnap
the Magic,
I'll provide tips for turning your party space into a tropical
hideaway for the lucky people you welcome there.