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!

A Whole New World III (Reflections of Earth: EPCOT Pt. 3)

Things fall apart; the Center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world…
      -W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming

Purple reign

In a way, Walt Disney may have died at just the right time. Over his years as a public figure, the man went through a number of changes, both personally and professionally (as everyone does, of course.) With his early successes with Mickey Mouse and Snow White he came to be seen as an artistic wunderkind, warmly embraced by Hollywood's elite and the intellectual set. As time went on and Walt Disney Productions came to face failure just as often as prosperity, Walt's worldview slowly soured into something more cynical. He was quick to blame labor issues at the studio on "communist infiltration," a sentiment no doubt nurtured by his growing number of friendships with influential conservatives like Richard Nixon and his cronies. When the studio's films weren't consistently performing well with audiences, Walt turned his attention to Disneyland - something that, unlike film, could be controlled in a much more continuous and "hands-on" manner. From cartoons, to movies, to theme parks, Walt seemed like he was always trying new and more direct ways to assert some kind of control over an uncontrollable world - and a real-life city was the next logical step.

Please hold all questions until the end

And yet during this time, the uncontrollable and unpredictable landscape outside of Disney's interior world was changing rapidly - and Walt's one-time revolutionary mind was not keeping up. While those who thought as Walt did considered his company an American institution, producing traditional, quality family amusements, the rest of the world was increasingly viewing Disney's entertainment machine as a rusted dinosaur, part of the "old guard." The counterculture movement had already come onto the scene by 1966, and hippy "flower power" was about to explode during the "summer of love" the following year (and then just as quickly implode by the end of the decade.) Conversely, with American homes being privy to the daily horrors of war thanks to nightly television broadcasts from Vietnam, Disney's kinder, gentler means of escapism didn't seem to be cutting it any longer. While Walt may have thought a model city of tomorrow could go a long way to solving society's ills, it's hard to judge what elements of America's rapidly-changing society he felt were the ones that needed curing.

Soarin' over Saigon

Many grouse that we could’ve been witness to a better society had Walt’s “city of the future” been there to show us all the way; personally, I believe the truth would’ve been much worse. When Walt died, his E.P.C.O.T. city remained a great "what might have been," a last undelivered gift from a beloved old legend. How different it would’ve been if he'd lived to see the project to it's completion, and to witness it's real impact upon the world. As alluded to in the first of my EPCOT articles, while Walt may have believed he’d hit upon a solution to the “problems of America’s cities,” it’s more likely that the people within those cities would’ve viewed Walt’s great gleaming tower as a joke; a quaint, unwanted, backwards-thinking idea of what the future should look like, ran with unwelcomed assistance by huge, faceless corporations lead by out-of-touch millionaires. It’s a sad thought, but had Walt lived beyond his brief 65 years upon this rapidly-changing Earth, he likely would’ve lived to see his legacy reduced to a laughing stock.

And so the Disney company created what I think was a more sensible alternative to it’s founder’s last big idea - and yet nearly bankrupted itself in doing so. Over the course of more than a decade, from planning to designing to construction (the largest construction project on Earth at the time,) EPCOT Center cost the company as much as $1.4 billion to create - that’s over $3.5 billion today, adjusted for inflation. For a still relatively small corporation that had invested over $330 million just a decade earlier for “Phase 1” of Walt Disney World (and whose underwhelming performances at the box office throughout the 1970s had lost them a considerable amount,) this basically meant that the entire future of their working capital was tied up in this single project.

Oh, those work crews - what a bunch of clowns...

And yes, you read that right: EPCOT Center alone cost nearly three times as much to build as it cost to purchase 47 square miles of central Florida land, design and build canals and flood-control systems to redistribute it’s swamps, create an internal road and freeway system, build miles of monorail beams and trains, the Seven Seas Lagoon, the Fort Wilderness Campground, The Contemporary Resort, the Polynesian Village and The Magic Kingdom. Wow.

The finished EPCOT Center was truly a sight to behold: a vast wonderland of serene gardens, glittering fountains and massive, modernist buildings containing the most advanced theme park attractions in the world. Each pavilion addressed a real-world topic and brought them to vivid life by either bringing them down to a human scale (such as the World of Motion's discussion of transportation history which featured an Animatronic couple driving to a picnic,) or blowing them up to spectacular proportions (as in the Universe of Energy, where a lesson in fossil fuels took riders through a jungle full of dinosaurs, and then into a massive theater for a laser-light show finale.) The central Communicore pavilion introduced many to the world of digital technology for the first time, and gave glimpses into the future of instantaneous telecommunication that we now take for granted.

It’s hard to put it into words, really - there were (and still are) those who simply “got it”; who understood that what was represented at EPCOT Center was more than just simple amusements and fun (not that there wasn’t plenty of fun to go around,) but something greater. At it’s best, EPCOT left these high-minded individuals - both children and adults - excited to know more about the world; it managed to inspire them to actually work toward a better future. Granted, there were many - let’s call them “mouth breathers” - who whined that the park was boring, and that they didn’t come to Disney World to learn stuff. For them, the Magic Kingdom was just a monorail ride away, where they could ride Space Mountain until they got whiplash.

This, kids, is called a "print ad"

Yet it was the massive over-spending on this mammoth monument to mankind that would lead to it’s downfall. From the outside, the investment seemed to be worth it: attendance to both the new park and the rest of the resort increased steadily, with guests extending their vacations now that there were a pair of massive theme parks to explore. Their feedback was mostly positive, especially once the initial setbacks and technical glitches typical of a theme park’s “shakedown” period were worked out. But in the wake of the park’s opening, the company was left indebted, financially unstable and ripe for takeover by corporate raiders. As has been discussed on this blog before, thanks to the intervention of Roy E. Disney the company made it through the ‘80s still intact, with ex-Paramount president Michael Eisner at the helm.

Eisner quickly did a number of very good things for Disney. He almost single-handedly rescued it’s filmmaking divisions from becoming complete write-offs in Hollywood, and turned the company's overall fortunes around. In regards to EPCOT, however, it was clear that Eisner could be counted among those who didn’t “get it.” That his first instructions regarding the park was for the Imagineers to come up with concepts for a “Movie Pavilion” (an idea he was so fond of that he quickly had it expanded into it’s own theme park) is telling, as it’s hard to reconcile a topic like the entertainment industry with EPCOT Center’s “big concepts” like energy and imagination. Under Eisner, EPCOT began to be referred to as Disney’s “Discovery Park” in company literature and brochures, a motto more befitting a local children’s science center than a spectacular park meant to “entertain, inform and inspire” (as is noted on it’s dedication plaque.)

Just begun to dream 

There was something else happening around the same time that forecast dark clouds over EPCOT Center’s sunny skies. While the rise of counterculture in the ‘60s would’ve made Walt’s E.P.C.O.T. an outmoded endeavor, the change from city to a forward-looking theme park couldn’t have come at a more appropriate time. Following the nightmare of Vietnam and the sucker-punch that was Watergate, the US was allowed to breathe a sigh of relief with the national celebrations focused around the bicentennial. As the 1980s dawned, the country seemed like it was ready to put a more positive spin on it’s future once again. With such unifying events as the pop-culture phenomenon of Star Wars and (as much as I hate to say it) the rise to power of “hooray for our side” president Ronald Reagan, the idea of futurism seemed to be on it’s way back into the collective consciousness. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last.

It’s not something that anyone would’ve recognized at the time, but in 1982 America was presented with two different and distinct pop-culture visions of it’s own future: one was EPCOT Center, the other was Blade Runner. At the time, the “winner” of this ideological tug-of-war seemed clear, as EPCOT Center drew plaudits and crowds while Blade Runner tanked at the box office. However, as the decade passed more and more praise and attention began to be paid to Ridley Scott’s film, and it’s bleak vision of a dark, unappealing near-future came to influence a number of other works of popular art. This was concurrent with an alarmingly rapid turn toward cynicism as the ‘90s sighed into existence. It almost felt as if the upbeat energy of the ‘80s had shown itself to be more facade than fact, and America faced the turn of the new century with a shrug and a “well, now what?” Postmodernism, snark and mistrust of authority became the rules of the day, which stood in stark contrast to EPCOT Center’s corporate-fueled positivity; dreams of “Mars high school” gave way to cyberpunk. After being open for only a decade, EPCOT Center was already in danger of becoming a relic.

Deckard attempts to decipher his guide map at The Electric Umbrella

Looking back now with knowledge of the decades which followed, Disney’s best bet to deal with their “EPCOT problem” probably would’ve been to let the park quietly keep it’s head down, lightly updating a few attractions and adding new ones along the way. I say this as it seems the park as originally built would’ve been “rediscovered” and reevaluated by a more open-minded post-Gen X crowd (would this be millennials?) who just may have recognized it as a modern classic. Unfortunately, Disney did just the opposite.

Bowing to the vaguely-defined pessimism of the era (and the "mouth breathing" minority whining for less intellectual distractions,) between 1994 and 2000 Disney altered, renovated, gutted or destroyed most of EPCOT Center’s classic attractions - some of which were barely a decade old. Imagine if, within the span of a few years, Disneyland had The Jungle Cruise, Pirates of the Caribbean, the Haunted Mansion, Splash Mountain and Space Mountain all removed and replaced with new or heavily-altered attractions. Seems improbable, right? And yet this is precisely what was done to EPCOT Center, the difference being that it was still a young enough park that it’s signature attractions were unfortunately not yet recognized as “untouchable” classics.

Simple, elegant.
(Photo courtesy Yesterland.com)

Throughout the park, the originally unified design philosophy was soon thrown out the window. The Imagineers who’d designed the place had been very conscious of building a harmonious environment, with complimentary color schemes, unified fonts across all attractions and buildings, and leaving enough open "spaces to breathe" between the park’s bold pavilions. With the coming of the ‘90s, however, each new attraction was handled by a different team of young Imagineers eager to prove themselves, and little attention was paid to the why of what had come before. Colors became garish, new signs and random "shade structures" were bolted onto the once deceptively simple pavilion buildings, and dozens of new merchandise and snack carts came to be scattered along the once uncluttered walkways. The iconic Spaceship Earth was even bedazzled for nearly a decade by a massive, cartoonish Mickey Mouse arm/magic-wand combination (following it's initial installation as a millennium celebration decoration.)

What. The. Fuck.

To add further insult to injury, it was also at this time that Eisner’s Disney decided that the park’s name was too old-hat, and so after losing it’s heart, EPCOT was stripped of it’s Center. The most mind-boggling (and embarrassing) part of this was that the initial new name chosen for the park was (wait for it …) Epcot ‘94. Yep, in 1994 all of the park’s signage, guide maps, merchandise, and all of the road signs and bus stops on Walt Disney World property were updated to reflect EPCOT’s new “NOW!” name. The marketing geniuses that came up with this must’ve been in for quite the shock when January rolled around, and suddenly it was 1995! So once again everything needed to be updated, and the park was re-re-christened - yeah, that’s right - Epcot ‘95. Someone must’ve finally realized the futility of this plan, for by the end of the year the park was finally re-re-re-christened Epcot. The name of the place was now just that - a name, a made-up word with no pretense of standing for “Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow,” signifying nothing. Epcot had finally become just another theme park - a collection of amusements without a center.

To see how high the wave crested before it came crashing down, there’s no better case-study than the sad ballad of Horizons. Planned as an opening day attraction but, like Journey Into Imagination, it’s massive and complex ride systems were nowhere near ready in time, and so it opened in October of 1983 (exactly one year after the park had.) Horizons sat on the park’s east side, between the Universe of Energy and General Motor’s World of Motion, looking like some giant jewel or angular spacecraft that had just landed. A spiritual successor to Walt’s Carousel of Progress, the General Electric-sponsored pavilion contained only one massive attraction, which suspended riders over a number of detailed sets populated by Animatronic figures, as well as through giant “Omnimax” film-screen tunnels that gave the impression of flight. Horizons pulled together all of the various themes of EPCOT Center into one grand exploration of a promising future. Guests followed several generations of a family as they traveled (or telecommuted) from their homes in a futuristic city, a technologically advanced farm, and an underwater lab to their youngest relative’s birthday party on an orbiting space station. At the ride’s conclusion, each ride vehicle was given a choice of which terrain they would like to traverse on their way “back to the 20th century” (space, underwater, or a desert colony,) in a minor precursor to Disney’s “Soarin’” attractions. A big hit with guests and within the amusement industry, many considered Horizons to be the greatest (non-thrill ride) theme park attraction ever created, surpassing even Disneylands’s original Pirates of the Caribbean for artistic endeavor and thematic unity. As a matter of fact, it was from Horizons that the world was blessed with the oft-quoted “motivational phrase” - often erroneously attributed to Walt Disney himself - “If we can dream it, we can do it.” The crowning achievement of the park's mission statement to “entertain, inform, and inspire,” Horizons was truly the shining light at EPCOT’s center.

Horizons - all shining and new ...

By the early 1990s, however, Disney seemingly had Horizons closed more often than it was open. When GE chose not to renew their sponsorship of the ride in 1993, it quickly began to show signs of disrepair - as if Disney couldn’t be bothered to replace broken-down Animatronics or missing ceiling tiles if another company wasn’t helping foot the bill. In December of 1994, the attraction was suddenly shuttered - barely a decade after it’s grand opening. Then just as suddenly, to compensate for the extended closures of both Universe of Energy and World of Motion, Disney re-opened Horizons at the end of 1995. The attraction, by now in a sorry state, chugged along, uncared for, for a further four years before it was unceremoniously closed for good at the end of 1999. As the new millennium dawned, the pavilion all about the future was completely demolished. To this day, no one seems completely certain what led to the decision to suddenly axe the beloved attraction - cost-cutting after GE pulled it’s sponsorship is likely a big reason, as is the rumor that a sinkhole developed under part of it’s foundation. Disney, at one point, claimed they needed to build an even larger structure to house the ride’s replacement, space-training simulator Mission: SPACE. However, when the new attraction opened in 2003, it was housed within a significantly smaller (and visually less interesting) building than Horizons had been. Mission: SPACE’s centrifuge-based experience has since gone on to send more people to local hospitals complaining of nausea and chest-pains than any other attraction in Orlando, and is probably best known for seeing two of it’s riders die from pre-existing conditions after riding in 2005 and 2006.

The end of the future

Since the turn of the century EPCOT has more or less coasted along with a hodgepodge of attractions and experiences that sometimes make attempts at the old “edutainment” mantra. But the focused futurist unity of EPCOT Center is long gone. More often than not it seems as though Disney has to hide or sneak in any educational material it tries to introduce to it’s increasingly dumbed-down audience, like a wary parent blending vegetables into a picky child’s marinara. More and more, attractions are being changed-out for ones based on Disney’s successful film franchises - the Living Seas pavilion is now The Seas with Nemo and Friends, Norway’s eccentric Maelstrom attraction was replaced by Frozen Ever After, and just recently the venerable Universe of Energy (which had itself already been extensively refurbished into “Ellen’s Energy Adventure” in 1996, featuring Ellen DeGeneres and Bill Nye "The Science Guy" - it didn’t age well) was shuttered for good to make way for a Guardians of the Galaxy-themed roller coaster. Thought provoking inspiration begot snarky self-referentiality begot vacuous synergy.

Disney states that massive changes are on the way for Future World in the coming decade, ones they promise will remain “true to the spirit of EPCOT’s roots.” The increasingly disillusioned part of me is quick to think “bullshit” - Disney nowadays is quick to offer such empty platitudes while they shill overpriced merchandise with “retro” EPCOT Center logos slapped on. I half expect the entirety of Future World to be re-branded as “Marvel’s Iron Man: Stark Expo” or some crap like that.

Things to come?

And yet, overall, I remain hopeful - perhaps naively so. No real fan of EPCOT can call themselves such without having a healthy stable of optimism stored somewhere deep inside. And, in spite of my bitter ramblings, the EPCOT of today remains a unique and fulfilling place to visit. The World Showcase, while typically infested with stumbling drunk “vacation-liberated” soccer Moms after nightfall, remains much as it did in the ‘80s, as the Imagineers' ability to create scaled-down versions of real-world destinations turned out to be their greatest and most timeless skill. Just as it was at the beginning, dining and shopping continue to be important aspects of the World Showcase experience; besides having the highest concentration of varied and interesting restaurants on property, it also features the most unique collection of “anti-gift shops” to be found in central Florida.

In Future World, meanwhile, some of the worst offenses from the ‘90s have been altered or softened somewhat. Journey Into Imagination’s short lived replacement (the “cleverly” titled Journey Into YOUR Imagination,) which did away with all whimsy and suggested that riders had no imagination whatsoever, was revamped to reintroduce Figment after massive fan backlash (though Dreamfinder is still long gone.) Though an improvement, the ride is currently in dire need of a better, more permanent replacement. Over in The Land pavilion, the peppy Kitchen Kabaret was replaced in the ‘90s by the obnoxious song parody-heavy Food Rocks; this show was thankfully removed, and in it’s place now sits the queue for Soarin’ (a California Adventure import that was added in 2005,) which was itself updated just last year into Soarin’ Around the World. While it’s addition to the agricultural-themed pavilion makes little sense, there’s no denying that it’s a magnificent attraction. And even Test Track, GM’s thrill-ride replacement for the World of Motion (which opened in 1999, after a much-delayed refurbishment of over 3 years,) which originally featured the glamorous and magical experience of careening around in a test-dummy car, was re-done in 2012 to deliver a “computerized” TRON-like experience; a better fit for Future Word, at least aesthetically.

Above all, what persists in being most striking about EPCOT - and a source of much thought and inspiration - is it’s composition and architecture. While Disney may have tried to distract guests from WED Enterprises’ sleek and monumental design choices with extraneous add-on details, ugly signage and an over-abundance of merchandising carts, the impressive scale of the pavilions and the way each one speaks to the theme within remains brilliant. EPCOT’s layout is still the most thoughtfully-considered of all Disney’s theme parks, extrapolating Disneyland’s “hub and spoke” design into a complex double-hub. And the rolling lawns and lovely gardens that still exist in the park continue to offer a thoughtful serenity rarely found in theme parks today. Summed up best in a quote from blogger FoxxFur (in a 2007 post from her blog, Passport To Dreams Old & New): “EPCOT’s design is too strong to be overshadowed by a gaudy bandstand ringed in pink neon ... no matter how hard you try, you can take EPCOT out of 1982, but you can’t take 1982 out of EPCOT.”

Reflections of (Spaceship) earth

Over the past decade, pop-culture’s cynical edge has dulled into a weary mess of flash-in-the-pan social media fads. Science, like far too many realities in recent years, has astoundingly been politicized; if you dare bring up climate change you’re automatically accused of pushing a specific liberal agenda. Attempts to modernize American industry or create new, more socially and environmentally responsible technologies leads to accusations of “killing jobs.” Middle America has grown an exasperating tendency to move backward as quickly as possible in this regard, as if a nation full of blacksmiths is suddenly demanding to halt the proliferation of the automobile in order to keep their industry growing, rather than learning a new trade. After a brief reprise of social positivism during the early years of the Obama administration, our cultural spirit of hope has come crashing down; the continuing national nightmare of Trumpism having nurtured a growing revolt against decency and fact, as well as emboldening a startling number of reprehensible hate groups. Much like in 1982, as the Cold War was heating back up, a divided world lives with the specter of escalating nuclear tensions. Our dreams of progress have been revealed as mere delusion, and the chaos society finds itself in has, far too late, made it sickeningly obvious just how truly fucked we are as a culture.

Perhaps, if things get much worse, the human race will realize that it collectively needs something to strive for. As lame as it sounds, the world may never have needed the wondrous future promised by EPCOT Center as much as it does now.

TV Detour #5 - EPCOT Center: The Opening Celebration (EPCOT Pt. 2)

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome. Welcome to a party … it’s not really a party, it’s more a celebration; a dedication, a festival and an event - also a monumental achievement all rolled into one. And it’s also a party.” Host Danny Kaye’s exuberant and confusing introduction, delivered in a segment recorded at the last minute from the pre-opening VIP celebration, sets the tone for 1982’s EPCOT Center: The Opening Celebration - Disney’s attempt to showcase it’s newest, biggest and most expensive park, as well as explain to a skeptical public what it’s all about.

Disney had it’s work cut out for it marketing their new undertaking. As noted in my previous article, the world had been hearing about Walt Disney’s great unfinished project, the Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, since before his death in 1966. Since then, Walt Disney World had been operating to great success, and planning a living model “city of the future” had fallen by the wayside. In it’s place, Disney instead decided to build a second theme park within it’s Florida property, albeit one that would be aimed at a more mature audience than either the Magic Kingdom or Disneyland. Resembling a sort of permanent world’s fair, EPCOT Center was to be focused on examining real-world issues and starting conversations about the future of the human race - a far less whimsical theme than they’d ever attempted before. But how to present this concept to the world? The route Disney chose is an interesting one - to state plainly that the new park was in fact the true culmination of their founder’s last and greatest dream. At best, one could suggest that branding EPCOT Center as Walt’s baby was somewhat problematic, and at worst say that it was an outright lie. Nevertheless, Disney’s marketing machine proudly rolled out images of a sun-drenched Spaceship Earth (the 18-story geosphere that serves as the park’s central icon - it’s castle, if you will)(and no, I will not refer to it as “that giant golf ball”) with proclamations that “Walt Disney’s EPCOT Center” would be opening soon, heralding the early beginning of the 21st century.

Say cheese! Now get back to work...

Disney’s difficult and specific task is set out in their hour-long Opening Celebration special, transmitted October 23rd, 1982 - 21 days after the official opening day, but the evening before it’s splashy dedication ceremony. Following the introduction described above, the show dives right into it’s complicated mission statement - in song form, no less! Backed by the gleaming and freshly flowered entrance plaza, Danny Kaye, arms spread wide, belts out a show-stopper entitled “Hooray for the 21st Century.” All about history being made before your eyes, and making numerous mentions of “the culmination … of one man’s imagination,” the number does some heavy lifting in relating Walt’s original “city of tomorrow” concept to the freshly-minted park previewed on-screen. Intercut with generous footage of concept art, Imagineers at work, and construction crews working feverishly to get everything completed in time (it wouldn’t be a Disney theme park if everything was quite ready for opening, after all,) it also contains a number of spoken-word asides in which Kaye specifically spells out much of what Disney wanted to emphasize about EPCOT Center. Disney has Kaye throw all of their cards on the table with the following proclamation:

“Just so there’s no confusion: EPCOT Center is located in the center of EPCOT. And EPCOT Center is made up of two parts, which is Future World and The World Showcase. It's 2.5 miles from The Magic Kingdom, which is also part of EPCOT, which is what the entire 2,700 acre area known as the Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, or EPCOT, or Walt Disney World is called - hehe ... just so there's no confusion!"

So there you have it - Disney enlists a beloved celebrity to break the news that Walt’s E.P.C.O.T. already exists to a national viewing audience - half as a state of mind, half as the already-functioning “Vacation Kingdom” in which their new park, EPCOT Center, is located at the center of. Even 35 years after the fact, this zig-zagging bit of spin gives me a headache.

I want YOU to listen to me sing a lot!

Following this dizzying start, Kaye is seen walking across an expanse of lawn (EPCOT Center’s numerous lawn and garden spaces resembling nothing less than an extremely well-maintained college campus) under the shadow of Spaceship Earth. He’s soon joined by astronaut Alan Shepard, and the two settle upon a bench to discuss mankind’s possible future out in space. This special is wasting no time in getting into the nitty-gritty of EPCOT’s futurism. After Shepard says farewell, his spot on the bench is immediately filled by 7 year-old Drew Barrymore (“one of the first actresses to meet E.T. personally, and a national delight,” Kaye informs us,) decked out in pink Osh-Kosh overalls and matching hair-ribbons. After some “adorable” back-and-forth about what it’ll be like to live in the future (Kaye: “In the future, you might be going to Mars high school!” Barrymore: “Do they give homework?”,) we are treated to another musical interlude, this song all about Future World - and the hopes and dreams of the past that can be played out in the future.

The cuteness!

Like many of the montages in this special, clips from several different pavilions and attractions are shown all at once, without context as to what we’re being shown. However, unlike 1971’s Grand Opening of Walt Disney World (where previews of Magic Kingdom’s attractions were sidelined for variety show-style musical routines,) Disney’s goal here is to portray the concepts of EPCOT Center, rather than preview it’s rides specifically.

We have a T-Rex!

The closest we get to a straight-ahead preview is when country singer Roy Clark is recruited to give a quick rundown of the trio of attractions featured in the Kraft-sponsored Land pavilion (the Listen to the Land boat ride, Kitchen Kabaret animatronic revue, and a dull-as-paint film titled Symbiosis,) before serenading a boat-full of backup singers to a twangy rendition of “This Land is Your Land.” Clark is also introduced to Dr. Carl Hodges, director of the environmental research lab at the University of Arizona and consultant to the agriculture-based pavilion, who regales viewers with a brief summary of all the under-utilized foodstuffs available on Earth that could aid in vanquishing world hunger. Clark replies by asking the “Doc” if it’s possible to grow an olive with the martini already inside. Yuk yuk.

Roy Clark and the Mom-Jeans Gang

The tone of this program is somewhat more serious than previous specials (Kaye and Clark’s rib-ticklers notwithstanding,) but that’s not to say that it’s without it’s fair share of whimsy - far from it, actually. While Mickey, Goofy and their pals are nowhere to be seen (something that would be utterly unthinkable to today’s Disney company,) Kaye and Barrymore are briefly introduced to EPCOT’s pair of specially-created mascots, the jolly ginger-bearded Dreamfinder and his little purple dragon, Figment. Though their attraction, Journey Into Imagination, wouldn't be open until early the next year (Imagineers, led by living legend Tony Baxter, couldn’t quite get the complex attraction working in time for opening day, natch,) we are given a taste of the fanciful attraction which would go on to be one of the most popular, if not the single most popular, attraction in the park (before it was unceremoniously removed in 1998.)

35 Years and still moving t-shirts, baby!

We're also introduced to a talking robot named SICO (pronounced ‘say-ko’, like the watch,) who is seen trundling through the Communicore pavilion (the “Comm” was supposed to stand for COMMunity or COMMunication, but the pavilion is mostly recalled for it's look at COMputers) and flirting with another talking automaton, the fondly remembered SMRT-1 (pronounced ‘smart one’ - geddit?) A brief excerpt:

      “Hi cutie ...” SICO blurps as he rolls up to the squat purple SMRT-1, “do you live around here?”
      “Sure do!” SMRT-1 chirps back, “Work here, too! Right in the Communicore!”
      “Wow. Isn’t that kind of a big job for such a little robot?” SICO intones, condescendingly.
      “I take a very short lunch hour.” SMRT-1 zings back.

After more of this robotic “Hepburn and Tracy” banter, our look at Future World is wrapped up with a montage showcasing the “computer magic” used to run the park. This brief sequence, accompanied by a memorably sprightly synthesizer score, is absolutely wonderful. A blur of blinking lights, spinning dials, speeding monorail trains and gleaming EPCOT Center buildings, it was later isolated and ran during commercial breaks on The Disney Channel, enchanting a generation of ‘80s kids who had no idea it originally came from a television special (I've linked it here, in case you don't want to sit through the entire special.)

SMRT-1 Joins the growing list of robots alleging harassment by SICO

Next up is a look at the back-half of the park, the food-and-drink-heavy World Showcase. In what I can only describe as an astoundingly good bit of camera work on the part of the TV crew, the shot pans along with Danny Kaye as he departs Future World, Spaceship Earth already tiny behind him, and approaches the World Showcase lagoon. From this viewpoint, the lagoon (and the park itself) seems to stretch on for miles. In no other film, video or photographic record have I seen the incredible scale of EPCOT captured as well as it was in this one incidental shot, so I couldn’t help but mention it here.

Where's the bathroom!?

Anyhow, Kaye introduces several of the young members of Disney’s International Fellowship Program in a silly pre-recorded bit where they mistake him for a baggage-handler at Orlando International Airport. Naturally this features a tie-in with Eastern Airlines, the now-defunct “official airline of Walt Disney World.” Another musical number, extolling the virtues of the “world showcase of the fellowship of man” follows, in which quick scenes are presented of the various nation-pavilions (Mexico, China, Germany, Italy, Japan, the US, France, the United Kingdom and Canada - Morocco and Norway are still a few years off,) along with an appearance by the “World Showcase Dolls.” These original walk-around characters, essentially scaled-up, big-headed “dollies” decked out in the traditional dress of multiple countries, were adapted from similar characters that featured on floats in Magic Kingdom’s bicentennial parade a few years earlier. While I can go along with just about any of the eccentricities from EPCOT’s early years, these dead-eyed giants are just a tad too creepy for me. I’d say future guests were better off being photographed with “Kimono Minnie” and “Royal Mountie Pooh.”

Danny Kaye flees the Valley of the Dolls

Following a quick look at The American Adventure (the “host nation” of the World Showcase and a massive Animatronic and large-format film extravaganza that has surprisingly never received the attention it deserves,) Kaye touches base with Roots author Alex Haley. Haley, who’s encountered while randomly standing in the middle of the promenade, shows off a model of the Equatorial Africa pavilion “coming next year." It would’ve featured performers and cuisines from several African nations, as well as something referred to as a “sound safari.” This exhibit, along with other promised pavilions such as Spain and Israel, sadly never came to be. Perhaps it’s just as well in this case since, following the opening of Animal Kingdom in 1998, any other representation of an African township likely would've paled in comparison.

Anyone wanna play with my model? Hellooo?

Singer and apparent Aqua Net addict Marie Osmond then treats us to some behind-the-scenes footage of Disney film crews hauling their Circle-Vision cameras throughout China, as they are granted access to many never-before-caught-on-western-film locations (such as Beijing’s Forbidden City) for the Wonders of China presentation. But not before we are treated to yet another musical number!

Ch-Ch-Ch-China!

Osmond belts out a medley of songs that begins with Tim Hardin’s “Sing a Simple Song of Freedom” (or as she sings it, “Freeeeheeeheeeheeheeheeeeeeheeedom”) and just gets brassier from there. Though the program is stuffed with songs, this in the only one that I felt was out of place, or at least served little purpose beyond a bit of “variety show” distraction. It’s almost as if World Showcase’s purpose (to give a small sampling of other cultures - not, as cynics have suggested, to replace actual world travel) was much simpler to get across than that of Future World, and so this portion of the show had to be padded out more. I guess it should be no surprise at this point that this special was produced by Smith-Hemion Productions, who were behind 1971’s Grand Opening of Walt Disney World and several far worse Disney specials we’ll get around to in the future (and, as I failed to point out in that article, they were also the production company behind the beyond-infamous Star Wars Holiday Special from 1978 - yep, that's right.) All things considered, then, this combination of Disney's aspirations of futurism and Smith-Hemion's more frivolous tendencies result in what may be their best partnership.

A little bit country? Now that's a country I'd like to visit - am I right fellas? Huh? 

As night falls on EPCOT Center, Danny Kaye returns to his park bench below a now colorfully illuminated Spaceship Earth, for a discussion with author and journalist Eric Sevareid. Sevareid takes the opportunity to read an excerpt from his touching memorial to Walt Disney, originally read as part of his CBS newscast on December 15, 1966 (“He was an original - not just an American original, but an original, period. He was a happy accident, one of the happiest this century has experienced…”) to further tie the ghost of Walt to this massive new enterprise. Sevareid continues with his observations of EPCOT Center itself, noting that it’s “designed as information, instruction and inspiration … a permanent, tangible monument to real life and humanity.” These may be the best and most succinct words I’ve heard used to describe the magnificent achievement Disney managed to create within it’s swampy municipality.

Entertain, Inform, and Inspire

In our third and final article on EPCOT Center, we’ll take a look at the legacy this wholly unique place has left, and how it’s successes and failures lead Disney (and perhaps popular culture itself) into unexpected new directions. Until then, as Danny Kaye conducts the All-American College Band and the West Point Choir in a stirring medley of “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” and “This Is My Country” against the shimmering backdrop of the Fountain of Nations, let us look back in admiration at the creation of a place so forward-looking that once, however briefly, held enough mythic power to begin the 21st century 18 years ahead of schedule.