Westward Ho The Wagons!

Fess Parker leads a wagon train of lily-white suburbanites (or at least that’s what they look like) across the great American frontier in Disney’s 1956 yarn Westward Ho the Wagons! All they have to deal with are those pesky natives...

Adapted from Mary Jane Carr’s 1934 novel Children of the Covered Wagon, the film tells the story of a group of settlers headed for Oregon in 1846. While ostensibly led by the wealthy James Stephen (TV’s original Superman George Reeves, in his last big-screen role,) the travelers follow the more practical “on the ground” leadership of physician-in-training John “Doc” Grayson (Parker) and his world-weary compatriot, Hank Breckinridge (familiar western character-actor Jeff York.) The film is neatly bisected into two parts: the first dealing with the group’s attempt to pass through the lands of the “unfriendly” Pawnee Indian nation, the second detailing their stopover outside Fort Laramie (and their tenuous peace with the Sioux encampment there.)

You'll shoot your eye out...

Right off the bat, let’s get the obvious out of the way: Westward Ho the Wagons (I’m going to drop the exclamation point for the body of this review, thank you very much) is what you’d call your typical ‘50s western. Little about the movie speaks to any kind of reality of the harshness of life at the time. Most of the settlers are portrayed by attractive, squeaky-clean Caucasian actors with gleaming white teeth and Brylcreem-encased hair. Heck, when four of Walt’s “Mouseketeers” can be counted amongst the cast (they being Tommy Cole, Doreen Tracey, Cubby O'Brian, and Karen Pendleton,) you know you’re about as far away from Deadwood as you can get. All the tropes familiar to those who grew up watching reruns of such baby-boomer artifacts as Wagon Train, The Rifleman and Rawhide will instantly recognize the well-worn iconography of covered wagons trundling their way across a rugged landscape, valiantly making their escape from marauding “Injuns.” While the portrayal of Native Americans in this film (and it’s ilk) is clearly offensive and dated, one can’t help but shake their head and roll their eyes, so silly is the institutionalized representation of the “savage redman.” Anytime a group of fringe-clothed natives appears on screen (no breechcloths or bare male chests to be seen here,) they’re accompanied by that standard “war drums and harsh brass” music that Hollywood insisted represented genuine Indians. And when the white men talk to the natives it’s always in short, brusque sentences accompanied by inscrutable hand motions - as if the secret to cracking all tribal dialects is to speak loudly and wave your hands around.

Do you understand the words comin' out my mouth!?!

The film was helmed by William Beaudine, a Hollywood workhorse who directed over 370 films(!) in his 44 years-long career. While not a flamboyant filmmaker by any means (clearly favoring bland medium shots for many scenes,) Beaudine ratchets up some credible tension in a chase scene involving a kidnapped youth escaping the Pawnee encampment. Shot at the Janss Conejo Ranch (in Ventura County, California,) the straight-forward filmmaking nevertheless contains some striking vistas of the long line of wagons snaking it’s way across windswept plains. These wide shots of the frontier are aided in no small part by Peter Ellenshaw and Albert Whitlock’s matte paintings, which help transform the nondescript California valley into a western fantasy of Monument Valley-style geology and Wyoming "big sky."

That giant dog's after the chuck wagon again! To the cupboard!

At least I think that’s the case. Annoyingly, my DVD copy of the film (an “exclusive title” from the Disney Movie Club, and the only physical version currently in print) is panned-and-scanned, cropping the sides off the full image. After the opening credits - proudly proclaiming the film to be “Shot in Panavision” - the image zooms in to the outdated 1.33:1 aspect ratio intended to fill the full screen of your old Zenith 19-inch CRT television. Watching the movie, I yearned to be able to enjoy the panoramic shots of cowboys and Indians riding across the wide-open fields, or to watch a dialogue scene where the characters weren’t awkwardly standing at opposite edges of the screen. The film is available for online rental from such sources as Amazon, but after shelling out for my current disc I’m in no hurry to spend the $3 to check if their copy is in the correct ratio or not. Hell, it’s not like this is The Searchers or something.



Everyone back to your corners...

The acting is solid (if not especially noteworthy,) with Fess Parker ably leading the ensemble. The late actor’s natural charm could honestly carry anything, and he lends his “Doc” Grayson character a reluctant, “aww shucks” believability that makes one gloss over the predictability of the character’s burgeoning hero arc. Perhaps the best performance in the film comes from our old friend Sebastian Cabot, playing the extrrremely Frrrench trader and shopkeeper Bissonette, who acts as a kind of ambassador between the settlers and the Sioux at Fort Laramie. As the sole voice of reason between the two parties, the character seems like a miraculously less-dated element, almost detached from the banal storyline occurring around him. “Doc” Grayson’s love interest, Laura Thompson (played by Kathleen Crowley) is unfortunately underwritten, serving as little more than a reason for Parker’s character to croon “I’m Lonely, My Darlin.” She’s also given one of the more cringe-inducing lines in the film, screeching “You’ll talk to me, you pompous savage!!” at the Sioux chief, Wolf’s Brother, after he refuses to speak to a woman.

Anyone know anything besides Kumbaya?

One can’t help but feel bad for the Native American actors in the film, the lead being John War Eagle as Wolf’s Brother - familiar from innumerable appearances in film and TV westerns. How demining it must be to partake in such insensitive imitations of your own culture (or of those that aren’t even practices of your own nation) for the entertainment of predominantly white audiences; and to be accompanied half the time by a number of non-Indian extras “darked up” and instructed to act out crass parodies of your people’s traditions. Conversely, playing the role of Sioux medicine man Many Stars is actor Iron Eyes Cody, who would go on to be forever emblazoned into popular culture as the “Crying Indian” from a famous 1971 “Keep America Beautiful” TV commercial. While Cody enjoyed a long and successful career playing Native Americans from 1927 to 1987 (when he appeared as Chief St. Cloud in Ernest Goes to Camp,) and claimed to be of Cherokee descent, he was actually born Espera Oscar de Corti in Kaplan, Louisiana - both his parents being native Italians. Classy.

Hey, Fess! Hadn't you best git along to a better movie?

Summarizing this movie, I was nearly about to write how the film is "harmless, if dated, family fun," but had to stop myself. While a film like this surely would've been viewed as such in my own youth, I really couldn't recommend Westward Ho the Wagons today. Even discounting it's sadly typical misrepresentation of American Indians, the truth is it's just a pretty mediocre western - itself a genre that had many more misses than hits. In a way, it’s a shame that this is the first Fess Parker-starring film reviewed on this blog, when there are far better movies the actor appeared in for Disney. Chief among his other roles, of course, are his appearances as Davy Crockett (in a pair of features edited together from popular episodes of the Disneyland TV program) and as the father in Disney’s seminal Old Yeller. We’ll hopefully get to those films soon enough. As it is, Westward Ho the Wagons stands as an antiquated curio from another era - a time that seems so long ago, when little Johnny and Suzy would be plonked down in front of the TV and allowed to watch virtuous cowboys shoot it out with yipping savages for hours on end, little concern given to the consequences that such wrong-minded drivel would have on their growing minds.

Here's something to play with after you've finished your "trail of tears" Colorforms...

The Straight Story

One of the most surprising moments in Disney’s live-action canon comes from a gentle, G-rated film about an old man traveling across the American Midwest on a riding mower. The two credits which open the film, fading in and out of the screen in succession, state the following:

Walt Disney Pictures presents

A Film by David Lynch

WHAT!?! David Lynch did a Disney movie!? Am I dreaming or something!? But it’s true - there exists a family-friendly film released by Disney, made by the man who brought dancing, backwards-talking dwarfs to primetime television and provided Dennis Hopper with the immortal exclamation “Heineken!? Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!!!” While Lynch’s film was an independent production that wasn't filmed under Walt Disney Pictures’ supervision, it was still picked up for worldwide distribution by the “house of mouse” following a well-received showing at the 1999 Cannes Film Festival. Let’s take a look, then, at one of the oddest but most poetic films in Disney’s film library, 1999’s The Straight Story.

The Lawnmower Man

Lynch, the infamous filmmaker behind such disturbingly surreal masterworks as Eraserhead (1977), Blue Velvet (1986) and Mulholland Dr. (2001), seems like the least likely name one would expect to pop up in a film fronted by Walt Disney Pictures' castle logo. The director’s own brief, calamitous dalliance with mainstream Hollywood is well-documented: after turning down an offer to direct 1983’s Return of the Jedi (J.W. Rinzler’s 2013 book The Making of Return of the Jedi features a humorous recollection of Lynch’s, in which he developed a massive headache whilst Star Wars creator George Lucas tried describing Ewoks to him during the initial pitch,) Lynch took on the unenviable task of adapting Frank Herbert’s 1965 sci-fi tome Dune into a big-budget genre picture for Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis. Lynch’s idiosyncratic and independent style immediately clashed with De Laurentiis, who wanted a more straightforward space adventure film that could potentially launch a successful franchise. The resulting 1984 film was a confusing mishmash of styles, like an expensive art-house production over-stuffed with weird special effects and wrung through one too many test-audiences.

Definitely not Twin Peaks...

The strangeness of The Straight Story within Lynch’s own filmography (insomuch that it’s the only one that’s not strange) lies somewhat in it’s genesis. The film is based on the true story of then 73-year old Alvin Straight who, his eyes and legs too impaired to keep his driver’s license, traveled 240 miles on a riding lawnmower in 1994 to visit his estranged brother (who’d recently suffered a stroke.) Film editor and producer Mary Sweeney, Lynch’s collaborator since Blue Velvet (and who would later go on to marry him, from May to July(!) of 2006,) was immediately attracted to the story of the stubbornly independent individual. After Steel Magnolias producer Ray Stark (who’d pictured the story as a vehicle for Paul Newman) lost the filming rights in 1998, Sweeney promptly picked them up. Recruiting friend and collaborator John Roach, she adapted Straight’s story into her first screenplay. Lynch, fresh off the lukewarm reception of his beguiling 1997 neo-noir Lost Highway, was given the script in hopes that he would share notes or suggestions with Sweeney. Instead, he was so taken with the story that he decided to direct the film himself - making The Straight Story the first (and so far only) movie that he had no part in writing.

Obviously Lynch recognized something special in the story of one man’s extremely slow journey across miles and miles of rural US farmland. Though not a flashy or particularly exciting story, Lynch threw himself wholeheartedly into this ode to the Midwest with a sort of relaxed assuredness that shows in the finished film.

A kind of languidly-paced road picture, everything in The Straight Story is done with the utmost care and attention to artistic detail. Citing the film as his “most experimental movie,” Lynch opted to shoot the film along the actual route taken by Straight, and to do so in chronological narrative order. As a result, the entire production feels as if it grows into itself as the film rolls on, the deliberate pacing making viewers feel as if they’ve joined the wizened character on his unique trip. This pacing never feels unnecessarily drawn-out, however, as viewers are treated to Straight’s impressions of the various locations he putters by, rather than being presented with some kind of idealized travelogue. Lynch and Sweeney allow not only each scene, but each moment to play out naturally and unrushed. A wonderful example of this comes in a scene where Alvin, having set up camp by the side of the road one night, is joined by a young, pregnant hitchhiker (played by Anastasia Webb.) The initially awkward, near silent dialogue between the two plays out as one imagines a conversation between a bitter young runaway and a stubborn old man would, each opening up about their lives a little after sizing the other up for a while.

Keep your eye on the doughnut, not on the hole...

Much of the reason the film works as well as it does is due to it’s unique ensemble of actors. Most obviously (and importantly,) the casting of veteran actor and former stuntman Richard Farnsworth as Alvin was immensely inspired. While well-known names such as James Coburn, John Hurt and Gregory Peck were tossed around, it seems that the lesser-known Farnsworth was always the filmmakers’ top choice for the role. Initially reluctant to take on the part (he had to be reassured the film was free of the foul language and “depravity” of Lynch’s prior works,) the 79-year old actor accepted the role out of admiration for the real Alvin Straight. Afflicted with terminal metastatic prostate cancer that had spread to his bones, Farnsworth suffered from paralysis of the legs, leading him (and his character) to walk with the aid of two canes. Years of experience, paired with physical pain and the full awareness of his own mortality, lends Farnsworth’s portrayal an authenticity not seen even in veteran “marquee” actors. Every line of dialogue sings with sincerity, and every action (from forming a wide smile during a rainstorm to shakily mounting his riding mower) is deeply felt. Lynch shoots Farnsworth with a painter’s eye, finding fascination in the way the sunlight plays across the well-worn features of his seasoned lead actor’s face.

Spacek doesn't wish to discuss the shower scene from Carrie again...

Besides Farnsworth, the rest of the cast shines in a number of more limited roles. Chief among them is Sissy Spacek, playing Alvin’s mentally-challenged adult daughter, Rose. A difficult role that could’ve been abused as an Oscar-baiting, method-acting showcase (or, in a different kind of film, insensitively played for cheap laughs,) Spacek - like Farnsworth - imbues her character with a quiet dignity, her expressive eyes betraying a deep well of emotion that’s absent from her more expository dialogue. Also of note is the late (and dearly missed) Harry Dean Stanton, who puts in a very brief appearance as Alvin’s brother, Lyle, at the film’s conclusion. Though only onscreen for a few minutes, Stanton carries the heavy emotional lifting of the two characters’ reunion, his deeply-lined face flushed with years of regret upon realizing that his brother drove hundreds of miles on a piece of lawn-care equipment to see him.

How's about a cup of Good Mornin' America?

Technically The Straight Story doesn’t feel out of place in Lynch’s filmography, thanks to the presence of many of his frequent collaborators. Cinematographer Freddie Francis, who’d worked on The Elephant Man (1980) and Dune, shoots the wind-blown cornfields of Iowa and Wisconsin with a kind of unshowy grandeur. Composer Angelo Badalamenti (who turned cool jazz sinister on Twin Peaks) tries his hand at a twangy, folksy score punctuated by his trademark lush string arrangements. Like the film itself, the music is simple but poetic, complimenting the onscreen action rather than distracting from it. Leaving the heavier emotional themes to play during otherwise silent shots of characters staring wistfully into the distance, Badalamenti’s  music sometimes brought Lynch to tears during the editing of the film. Also of note (as it is in all of Lynch’s productions) is the film’s fantastic sound design. From the insect hum accentuated winds that pervade the fields of grain, to the startlingly aggressive sounds of thunderstorms and behemoth big-rigs that blast down the highway, the aural world created by Lynch (who’s been his own sound designer since 1992’s Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) is truly immersive.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum are here to fix your mower!

While it’s easy to see this G-rated film as an outlier in Lynch’s body of work, there are still several moments that point at his absurd sense of humor. At one point on his journey Alvin encounters a desperately upset woman (played by Barbara E. Robertson) who’s accidentally hit and killed a deer - and apparently has done so every single week along this particular stretch of road (that she has to take as part of her 40-mile commute.) After she drives off in an exasperated huff, Alvin decides to pull the deer off the road and cut it up for food, since he's running low on his supply of braunschweiger. He’s shown later cooking up deer meat on an open fire, glancing nervously over his shoulder as a number of obviously-on-purpose fake deer watch from nearby, accusingly. In another scene, while traveling down a steep hill, the brakes on Alvin’s mower go out. The terror is palpable as the elderly man attempts to steer his out-of-control machine to a safe stop without killing himself, the camera rapidly shifting perspectives and speeds while the sounds of the road and roaring mower raise to incredible, almost jet-engine-like intensity.

Sadly Bambi's fate mirrors that of his mother ...

What remains somewhat unique in the famed filmmaker’s oeuvre is the development of Alvin’s character over the course of the film. The stubbornly stoic Straight doesn’t necessarily change much during the film, beyond letting go of his pride in order to make amends with his brother - though Farnsworth’s performance certainly reveals moments of long-forgotten wonder as Alvin encounters new people and places along his journey. However, the further he goes along his way, the more Alvin opens up to those he meets - and the audience slowly forms a full picture of him. Perhaps initially seen as a stubborn old coot, by the time Alvin reaches his final destination we are aware of the guarded history behind his tired eyes. Alvin is transformed into a fully-formed, deeply flawed human being, haunted by past demons but wiser for accepting them. This is perhaps the biggest clue that this wasn’t a film penned by Lynch, who’s not a believer in the idea of a “character arc” - instead seeing his characters as a part of a wider artistic vision (or, at the most basic level, as interesting patterns of light and shadow burned into his film stock.)

Burns bright forever. No more blue tomorrows.

The Straight Story was released to select theaters in October of 1999, and apparently few flocked to see it. Already a tightly budgeted film made for a bit less than $10 million, the limited-release film made back $6.2 million in North America, and it’s gross in the rest of the world was apparently so small that it counts for less than 1% of it’s total earnings. This meager take, while not unusual for an independently-produced film, means that the it's never been one that Disney had anything to do with after it’s theatrical run and follow-up DVD release (my own current copy is a Japanese-produced Blu-ray, since Disney doesn’t have any interest in producing an HD upgrade.) This is unfortunate, since this is unquestionably a great film. While neither the best film associated with Disney (though I’d easily put in within the top ten) nor Lynch’s greatest work, this is still a film that deserves to be seen and appreciated. Luckily, Lynch is a well-enough known artist with a rather large following, so the film is in little danger of disappearing into obscurity anytime soon.

A symbol of my individuality.

While the film may’ve been seen as a financial disappointment at Disney, it was an immediate hit amongst critics. As noted above, it was rapturously received at Cannes, receiving a standing ovation and a nomination for the festival’s Palme d’Or award (which it lost to Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne’s Rosetta.) Along with the film’s numerous nominations and wins at smaller awards venues, Farnsworth was nominated for the Academy Award for Best actor - at 80 the oldest actor to receive the honor (until this past year, when 88-year old Christopher Plummer was nominated for Ridley Scott’s All The Money in the World.) Farnsworth lost to Kevin Spacey for his role in Sam Mendes’ American Beauty, interestingly the same (now disgraced) actor whom Plummer replaced in the aforementioned Scott film. Tragically, the following year the pain from his cancer grew too much for the actor to bear, and Farnsworth committed suicide at his ranch in New Mexico. He was interned at the Forest Lawn Memorial Park in the Hollywood Hills, next to his wife, Margaret, whom had passed 15 years prior.

Amongst the critics who heaped praise upon the film was famed reviewer Roger Ebert, who gave the film a “4 out of 4” rating (and a “Thumbs Up” on his Roger Ebert & The Movies program.) This is notable, since this was the very first positive review the well-known critic had ever given to a David Lynch-directed movie. He'd condemned his breakthrough film Blue Velvet with an infamous “1 out of 4” review, in which he stated “scenes of stark sexual despair … (are surrounded) with a story that’s marred by sophomoric satire and cheap shots.” Though Lynch’s reputation amongst the film industry’s so-called “critical establishment” had always been hit-or-miss, The Straight Story marked something of a late-career turning point. His following film, 2001’s Mulholland Dr., would go on to even greater critical and financial success, being named one of the new millennium's best films in a number of critical polls. Even Ebert gave it a “4 out of 4” rating in his contemporary review, stating that Lynch had "been working up toward Mulholland Dr. all of his career, and now that he’s arrived there I forgive him Wild at Heart and even Lost Highway."


Perhaps this was an important factor, if not the whole point, behind Lynch’s decision to make The Straight Story: to show the world (and his detractors) that he was, and always had been, a skilled filmmaker and highly expressive artist. In doing so, he proved that he could make great motion picture art without his trademark incomprehensible horrors or darkly phantasmagorical visuals. Sometimes even great artists need to pull back from their own artifice to show just what they’re capable of. For David Lynch, this “straight story” seemed to be just what was needed to make his Hollywood dreams come true.

And we, the audience, are like the dreamer.

The dreamer who dreams and lives inside the dream.

But who is the dreamer?

... now it's dark ...

" ... "

“Ha-llo, Gaston. I yam th’ Slepiing Baeyooty.”

" ... "

“Whare I yam from, all th’ burds singk wurds … and dere’s al-wayss myuzic loopss in th’ yair.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhh ...”

“Brake-kingk nyoows: that LaFou broo yoo lyke iss com-ink beck in sty-yul.”

“No one’s … as confused as Gaston.”

“Watch yout fer my cussin. She lukes ex-act-lee lyke Mary Pop-ins.”

“I’m actually planning to woo and marry Belle.”

“Eye feel lyke I no her … but som-thymes, eye fall assleeep. Iss-nit two dream-me?”

" ... "

“I yam ... fase carr-acterr …”

TOALLWHOCOMETOTHISHAPPYPLACEWELCOME

“Ehm … escusez moi?”

“Giff me-yall yoor Dowl Whiyp (pineapple and sorrow).”

“When I was a lad, I ate … uuughhghghgggg!”

-POP-

-SCHLUPP-

“Eee-lek-tri-call parr-raid.”

“High-ya toots. Let’z rock!”

"Wow, duk, wow."

Fastpass distribution has closed for the day ... judy ...

 

A Whole New World IV (The Theme Park Rundown, Pt. 2)

Life’s a funny thing - just when you get into the swing of things, you get a bunch of curve balls thrown your way. Such is the case with the recent life of your humble blogger. Following a string of very well received posts in October, reality swallowed up most of my free time for a while (buying and moving into our first house, a difficult holiday season, illnesses, a death in the family, and our long-awaited Disney World vacation.) But for now, dear readers, we are back into a rhythm of sorts here at Started By A Condor - at least until the next batch of shit hits the proverbial fan.

This week, let’s get back to our recurring series of entries (now there are two of them, so I can call them recurring) seeking out references to the films we’ve reviewed in and around Disney’s theme parks. We’ve got a ripe batch this time around, so grab your preferred form of ticketing media and let’s get to it.

Shrek
I really shouldn’t even be talking about this one, since it’s not a Disney production - and the “review” itself was an April Fools gag (boy, I hope everyone realized this, and didn’t think I’d lost my mind - that happened later.) The actual 2001 film is itself chock-full of satirical jabs at Disney and its interpretations of fairy tale lore, as well as its theme parks. When Shrek and Donkey pass through the turnstiles to enter the kingdom of Duloc, it resembles nothing less than first light at the Magic Kingdom, with its well-stocked gift shops, piped-in music and gleamingly clean streets (which are notably vacant - perhaps it more closely resembles EuroDisney in its first year.) One can easily imagine producer (and Disney exile) Jeffrey Katzenberg rubbing his hands with glee at the skewering of his former employers.

However, proving that the corporate world is one without a sense of irony, Dreamworks has leased out Shrek (and the franchise it spawned) to various entertainment companies around the world, leading to a number of varied attractions featuring the namesake Ogre and his friends. Disney’s theme park rival, Universal, operates most of the Shrek-themed attractions worldwide, including an entire themed land based upon the franchise called (appropriately enough) Far, Far Away, located in their Universal Studios Singapore park. Home to a pair of family-friendly coasters (Enchanted Airways and Puss In Boots’ Giant Journey,) the land also contains what was once Shrek’s most prevalent attraction, Shrek 4D. Another in a long line of tiresome 3D shows with silly in-theater effects (such as water being blasted in your face, or your legs getting “mechanically tickled” to simulate bugs and rats crawling underfoot,) the attraction had, at one point, six operating iterations around the globe. As of 2018, however, only three Universal parks still run their “in-your-face” theater show, including the original in Orlando.

Shrek demands jazz hands!

The ongoing presence of Shrek and Donkey walk-around characters ensures that Katzenberg’s big green baby won’t be leaving the theme park world (or pop culture’s shared memory) anytime soon.

Make Mine Music
Back in the early, rose-tinted days of Started By A Condor, I hadn’t fully thought out my idea for a “theme park reference” article yet. And so to pad out my review of Make Mine Music, I unfortunately already brought up the one and only nod given to Walt Disney Productions’ 1946 musical anthology. That would be the Magic Kingdom’s replacement for Disneyland’s original “Coke Corner,” Casey’s Corner, named after the “Casey at the Bat” segment of the film. This quick-service eatery is your first (and likely only) choice when craving corn dog nuggets with plastic cheese dipping-sauce under the Florida sun. Beyond the name (and drawings of Casey and the opposing team's pitcher on the menu board,) the old-timey baseball theming gives no other references to the animated sequence. At least I didn’t notice any when I was there. Then again, I was too busy glaring a hole into the back of the guy in front of me in line who was taking forever to order despite the fact that ALL THAT’S ON THE DAMN MENU ARE HOT DOGS AND SODA!!

Okay, fine - there're desserts, too...

Candleshoe
Ah, Candleshoe - one of those odd little gems sitting nearly forgotten amidst Disney’s catalogue of live-action features. Vaguely beloved by those who recall it from their youth, this 1977 Jodie Foster vehicle has absolutely no representation in Disney’s theme parks - not even a name-check.

No, a Cinderella "shoe candle" from World of Disney doesn't count...

The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh
Well this one should be easy to spot, since the “silly old bear” and his Hundred Acre Wood pals have been theme park staples for over forty years. Walk-around characters based on A.A. Milne’s literary creations first began greeting guests at Disneyland in 1965, a year ahead of the release of “Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree” (Disney’s first Pooh short that was later included in the 1977 anthology film reviewed on this blog.) While the costumes for characters like Eeyore and Tigger have changed relatively little over the years, the initial design for Pooh himself was … an interesting one. Amongst the last of Disney’s early “big head” costumes, Pooh was portrayed as having a squat little body and a gigantic head, itself featuring a “Hunny” pot perched atop it (which was then topped with a little spring-mounted bee.) The cast member inside the costume (sorry kids) had their head inside the honey pot, with rods running down to the bears flappy arms that provided a modicum of movement. How the performer was able to make Pooh’s snout wiggle is best left to the imagination. A bizarrely proportioned affair that looked little like his animated counterpart, this design was astoundingly kept around with few alterations until 1989.

Pooh's got the pinkeye!

A quick aside: I find it amusing that until 1999 the character had his name (“POOH”) scrawled across the front of his shirt - as if kids wouldn’t recognize the big yellow bear without the tag.

Given the ongoing popularity of the characters, it’s somewhat surprising that a Winnie the Pooh attraction didn’t appear until 1999, when Imagineering replaced Magic Kingdom’s zany classic Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride with the gentle Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (a substantial downgrade, to be sure.) I remember reading that a Pooh dark ride had been planned for Disneyland’s Fantasyland expansion in 1983, but haven’t been able to find out why it never materialized. Walt’s park did get its own version of Magic Kingdom’s ride in 2003, replacing the Country Bear Jamboree - itself a Florida import from 1972 that had seen audiences decline severely over the years (unlike its perpetually popular forebear.) This version of the ride was later copied to Hong Kong in 2005 (where it was Fantasyland’s sole dark ride until their version of It’s a Small World opened in 2008) and Shanghai upon its 2016 opening. Tokyo Disneyland, on the other hand, pulled out all the stops with their own Pooh ride. Pooh’s Hunny Hunt, which opened in 2000, is an elaborate E-ticket attraction utilizing a state-of-the-art trackless ride system that whisks its riders along a random path through the colorful attraction, the roving honey pots occasionally grouping together to “dance” in synchronization to the soundtrack. I guess all the best stuff really is made in Japan.

Cars
Oddly enough, the first Pixar film that wasn’t greeted with universal acclaim ended up spawning what may be Imagineering’s most impressive stateside accomplishment since the turn of the new century. Likely conceptualized to combat Universal’s upcoming Wizarding World of Harry Potter for ultra-detailed adherence to its cinematic source material, when Cars Land opened in 2012 it single-handedly saved California Adventure’s reputation (the uber-charming Buena Vista Street notwithstanding) and began pulling greater numbers of guests from its sibling across the Esplanade.

Containing the usual array of gift shops and eateries, the re-creation of Radiator Springs hosts a trio of attractions: Mater’s Junkyard Jamboree (a spinning whip-ride,) Luigi’s Rollickin’ Roadsters (the US’s first use of the “trackless” ride system mentioned above,) which replaced Luigi’s Flying Tires, an attempted update of Disneyland’s failed Flying Saucers attraction from the early ‘60s, and the big E-ticket Radiator Springs Racers (a thematically rich thrill ride that wisely put the “slot car” technology from EPCOT’s Test Track to good use as a race simulator.) Most impressive, though, is the sheer amount of detail and sense of immersion the designers were able to draw from the animated film and translate into reality. Entering the land from the park’s performance corridor (or whatever they call that wide path that runs from Buena Vista Street, past Pacific Wharf and through Paradise Pier Park,) the confines of the small theme park melt away as the simulated desert town and surrounding mountain range seem to stretch on for miles.

Right, like it's ever this empty...

While California lucked out with the premier Cars-related attraction, the first one to open was actually in Paris, in the Toon Studio section of Paris’ second park, the dreary Walt Disney Studios Park - AKA the one that can be used as a bottom-of-the-barrel comparison point (“Hollywood Studios is half construction walls, but at least it’s better than the Walt Disney Studios Park” or “People are crapping all over the landscaping at Shanghai Disneyland, but at least it’s better than the Walt Disney Studios Park” or “My appendix just burst and I have to have emergency surgery, but at least it’s better than being at the Walt Disney Studios Park”.) Cars Quatre Roues Rallye is a simple carnival ride similar to Mater’s Junkyard Jamboree, featuring minimal theming such as 10-foot tall versions of the film’s Ornament Valley rock formations (which can be seen "life-sized" at DCA.)

Meanwhile, back at Walt Disney World, walk-around (or drive-around, I should say) characters such as Mater and Lightning McQueen could usually be seen at Hollywood Studios, at least until the Star Wars and Toy Story Land construction took out the backlot area. Beyond that, an entire section of Disney’s Art of Animation resort (one of their “value” level hotels) is themed around the film, featuring life-size models of the Cars characters and vistas of Radiator Springs painted on the hotel buildings. Okay, technically the hotels aren’t part of any theme park, but they’re still on-property so I’m gonna use ‘em. So there.

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids
Finally, a live-action film that spawned an attraction! Opened in December of 1990 at what was then called the Disney-MGM Studios, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids: Movie Set Adventure was an oversized kiddie playground themed to look like a gigantic backyard like the one from the film (only with fewer killer scorpions.) I remember the Disney World travel videos made this imaginative playground look like a real blast, with a slide made to look like a roll of Kodak film, a giant dog nose that sprayed mist, and ride-on sized ants and bees! Kids must’ve enjoyed it, since this minor attraction outlived its perceived shelf-life and remained open until April of 2016, when it was razed to make way for Star Wars. By the time of its closing, many of the youngsters clamoring around the simulated anthills probably had never seen the original movie.

Radical!

My family and I encountered the Movie Set Adventure a mere three months before its removal, and were struck by just how small the playground actually was. And, like many a public park, the place was packed with rambunctious probably-too-old-for-a-playground kids (and their extended families finding a shady spot to park themselves); therefore our then 1-year old daughter was not able to partake in the microscopic jubilance.

Honey, I Blew Up the Kid
I can just hear you now, dear reader, crying, “Hey! Why don’t you combine the sequels together instead of separating them to pad out the article? You lazy bastard!” First of all, stop yelling at your screen - you sound like a crazy person. Second, I was actually going to discuss the Honey, I Shrunk… attractions together, when I realized that the two were actually tied directly to each individual film. While the Movie Set Adventure was clearly inspired by the “backyard jungle” setting of the first film, the 4D Honey, I Shrunk the Audience film that first opened in Epcot ‘94 (ugh) was, despite its name, based completely upon the sequel. Randal Kleiser returned to direct the full Szalinski family (sans oldest daughter, Amy,) played by the same actors - including Rick Moranis, Marcia Strassman, Robert Oliveri and both Daniel and Joshua Shalikar (as young Adam.) We’ve also got a broadly comic score by Bruce Broughton, utilizing his main theme from the 1992 film. Make no mistake, this attraction follows directly from the second film, even while its premise and title played off the popularity of the original. Hell, this filmed attraction feels more like a genuine sequel than 1997's direct-to-video Honey, We Shrunk Ourselves, which re-cast everyone save for Moranis (and really, really sucked.)

Does that say "Honey, I Shrek the Audience!?"

The film was actually quite clever, with a shrunken Adam begging his dad to fix him before “one of those Disney sweeper people” came by, and characters beseeching little Adam to put the theater back exactly where he found it, “otherwise the exits won’t line up.” The so-called 4D effects ranged from ingenious (the theater seats vibrating in time with the character’s giant footsteps) to silly (a blown-up Quark the dog sneezes on everyone at the film’s conclusion - lovely.) Being one of the earlier 4D attractions (it opened three years after Disney-MGM’s Muppet*Vision 3D,) perhaps theme park guests weren’t as burned-out on the genre as they later became. Sadly, as clever as a 4D attraction can be, in the end it’s still a film presentation - and park-goers become less inclined to continually revisit an experience that has no variation. Heck, by the time the attraction was duplicated on the west coast (as part of Disneyland’s ill-fated Tomorrowland redesign of 1998,) the steam had pretty much run out of the Honey, I Shrunk… franchise. In 2010, all iterations of the attraction - including ones in Paris and Tokyo (where it was known as MicroAdventure!) - closed down for good.

Interestingly, in each of the parks it occupied, Honey, I Shrunk the Audience originally replaced the kooky space musical adventure (and 4D precursor) Captain EO, which had opened in 1986 (in Disneyland and EPCOT Center; Tokyo premiered it the following year, and Paris in 1992.) Starring Michael Jackson, produced by George Lucas and directed by Francis Ford Coppola (now that’s star power!), the moonwalking masterpiece of pure ‘80s awesomeness holds the record for the most expensive film ever made, in terms of its cost-to-screentime ratio ($23.7 Million for 17 minutes.) When Honey, I Shrunk the Audience closed, it was replaced in all four parks with … Captain EO. Brought back as “Captain EO Tribute” in honor of the recent death of Jackson, this welcomed revival has since shut again, presumably for good, replaced by a collection Star Wars clips (in California,) an interactive Stitch show (in Tokyo) and a collection of Pixar shorts (in Florida and Paris.)

Before Honey, I Shrunk the Audience’s 2010 removal, its character Dr. Nigel Channing (played by Monty Python huckster Eric Idle) spread throughout EPCOT’s Journey Into Imagination pavilion like an English-accented cancer, killing off poor Dreamfinder and sapping the glass pyramids of creativity. Despite attempts to inject some whimsy in 2002, Channing continues to infect the attraction to this day. One only hopes little Figment will eventually make it through okay.

He's not the Messiah - he's a very naughty boy.

Tangled
The film that catapulted Walt Disney Animation back to the top of its game, 2010’s Tangled has been simultaneously omnipresent and surprisingly subdued in its theme park presence. While the breakout success of 2013’s Frozen led Disney to scramble and re-theme EPCOT’s Maelstrom attraction, the earlier success (and continued popularity) of Tangled has seemingly caused them to create everything but a new (or even repurposed) attraction. Rapunzel herself has become a staple of Princess meet and greet locations around the globe, and she and Flynn appear in multiple parades (including the wonderful Festival of Fantasy parade at the Magic Kingdom.) There have been Tangled-themed stage productions as well, ranging from the simple ("Storytelling at the Royal Theatre" in Disneyland’s Fantasy Faire) to the extravagant (the Broadway-styled Tangled: The Musical, performed aboard the Disney Magic of the Disney Cruise Line.) Heck, Rapunzel and her beau are even featured at a character breakfast at the Trattoria al Forno restaurant at Disney’s Boardwalk.

And yet the biggest addition to a Disney park featuring the hit animated film comes not in the form of a ride or a walk-around character, but that of a john. In 2013, as part of the Magic Kingdom’s Fantasyland expansion, the site of the long-shuttered Skyway station (along the pathway from the Haunted Mansion and Columbia Harbor House) was expanded with a detailed recreation of Rapunzel’s tower, fronted by a babbling stream and a small, lantern-adorned square - built around an exquisitely themed restroom. A nice example of newly-built theming blending seamlessly into Fantasyland’s pre-existing architecture, the area around the “Rapunzel crappers” is a nice addition to the park, featuring a large seating area and a gentle, folksy music loop. It’s just kind of a shame that such a fine movie is represented by a toilet.

I keep wonderin', and wonderin', and wonderin' when will my BM begin...

In Search of the Castaways
Unsurprisingly, Disney’s rip-roaring 1962 adaptation of Jules Verne’s adventure novel gets no direct mention in any of its theme parks. Verne himself appeared in Animatronic form at the beginning of EPCOT Center’s beloved Horizons - but that doesn’t really count, does it?

Sacre bleu!

Bambi
Our last movie in this "Theme Park Rundown" is a true classic of animated cinema, beloved by generations of film-goers. Surprisingly, however, an attraction based upon Disney’s 1942 coming-of-age fable has never been made. Beyond a Bambi topiary in EPCOT’s annual Flower & Garden Festival, there are rarely seen Thumper and Flower walk-around characters (as well as Thumper’s girlfriend, referred to as Ms. Bunny, whom my family actually encountered at Animal Kingdom on a particularly busy day this past January.) Clips from Bambi appear in the lobby of California Adventure’s “Disney Animation” building, and images of the films characters appear in the tile-work and shower curtains at the Grand Californian and Disney World’s Wilderness Lodge resorts (again with the bathrooms?).

Man is in the forest ... and he's setting up concession booths...

Perhaps the films strong conservationist message (and vilification of mankind) doesn’t lend itself to a theme park ride. In the end, maybe it’s for the best; somehow not having Bambi and his woodland friends shoved in ones face makes the original film feel a bit more special.

Well, we certainly hit some pay-dirt for movie references this time around. There are some more gems to come in future "Theme Park Rundowns," so let’s hope this blogger can continue writing long enough to get to them all!