Na Na Na HeyaNO: Popularity and the Proper Placement of a Frozen Attraction

 

Theoretical imagining of a Frozen overlay by Brandon Hardey

"Let it No" by Eric Proctor

Let’s talk about Frozen. When a film is this successful or simply even liked to a considerable extent, there will inevitably be cries for turning it into an attraction. There have been fans suggesting everything from a dark ride in the Magic Kingdom, a renovation of the Matterhorn into Elsa’s ice castle, and a retheming of Epcot’s Norway Pavilion and Maelstrom attraction into to Frozen—however, the latter actually looks like it has a chance at becoming reality. Various news and blog posts linking to this Norwegian news report claim that Disney has offered the country of Norway the chance to pay approximately $9 million dollars to maintain the pavilion and its signature ride Maelstrom or else the area will be converted to Arendelle. This coupled with the fact that FastPass+ isn't available for the attraction after September 28th and that Disney just released a special, limited edition Maelstrom t-shirt has fans concerned.

At first I wasn’t even sure if I should take this report seriously—since we Disney theme park enthusiasts have a habit of creating ridiculous rumors as a parody of the modern corporation’s attitudes towards the parks (such as making The Jungle Cruise into an Avatar-based ride). Reports of franchise integration into rides, particularly current and popular franchises, is normally taken with a grain of salt. But from the evidence above, it looks like this is indeed a possibility. 

So. Let’s talk about the film, about franchises, and about themes. A lot of this post’s content started out on MiceChat before the Epcot rumors were a legitimate concern. You can find that thread here and my original response here. I also suggest reading the posts I linked to in the opening paragraph above, as some make a lot of good points about the nature of Epcot and the current situation. The conversation intertwined several different threads revolving around the separate ideas of the quality of the film, its commercial success, its staying power, and the placement of franchises in Disneyland. It’s important to pick apart these issues and address them individually, since one doesn’t necessarily determine the other. 

I’m in the group of critics and fans that think the film is underwhelming. It’s nice in some regards, but it’s not a masterpiece. I highly recommend checking out both CriticalHit's and CellSpex's reviews of the Frozen, as they cover the majority of my complaints, and the purpose of this post isn't to review the film as many have done. Opinions of the film are subjective, however, its commercial performance and popularity is not. And the fact is that it made tons of money, people are scrambling for merchandise, and its songs are inescapable. It’s hard to deny that this film was a commercial success for Disney. Discussion of its future effects on the company is inevitable.

With that said, no one can say for certain what the staying power of Frozen will be since we’re witnessing it in its prime and popularity doesn’t necessarily translate into stayability. However, my question is, does it ultimately matter whether the film has staying power? A good attraction should be a good attraction on its own. Its environments should be interesting, its story should be engaging, it should transport us into its world or show us something new that works regardless of the film. Case in point: Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and Splash Mountain. Very few people have seen the films that these attractions are based on, yet they function on their own because they are strong attractions regardless. If a ride for Frozen is built, it should be the same.

Seriously, my guess is that <0.1% of Guests, if that, have seen The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad or Song of the South. 

While I’m a strong advocate for original (non-franchise based) attractions in Disney parks, I also love traditional dark rides based on Disney fairy tales and, in my own armchair Imagineering, I’ve done quite a few of them, including for Frozen. Whether or not Frozen remains a beloved film, what’s not interesting about a mystical land cursed in eternal winter or seeing beautiful northern lights, fantastical trolls, ice castles being magically constructed, outrunning from wolves, experiencing glimpses of Scandinavian culture and legend, all flowing to matching music and brought to life with special effects and set pieces? That’s what should be the base of the ride and the heart of the discussion when basing an attraction off a film.

Not every movie needs to (or should) be turned into a ride, but when it is, the concept should be something that appeals to guests regardless of source material (the source material is just something that amplifies appeal), to account for both guests who don’t know the source material and the possibility of familiarity of/attachment to the source material fading over time. I won’t dive much into the debate of franchises versus original attractions beyond what I’ve already mentioned (that’s a different topic for a different time and a different post), but I will say that while I strongly believe that the park needs a better balance between original and franchise-based attractions (particularly in their new additions), I have little to no opposition to the idea of a Frozen dark ride if approached in a way where the environments and journey are the focus (like with Peter Pan’s Flight or Snow White’s Scary Adventures) rather than the characters (which seems to be the greater focus of weak Under the Sea: Journey of the Little Mermaid/The Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Undersea Adventure) and if placed in an appropriate area. I think that discussion of the film’s popularity (and personal opinions of the film) should be second to the engaging environments and experiences that can be taken from that film and applied to a three-dimensional medium, and how those experiences can enhance the land and the park as a whole.

However, with that said, the Norway Pavilion is not an appropriate area. While the original vision of Epcot (or, specifically, EPCOT Center) has waned, I’ll always defend it. Fantastical and fictitious countries are appropriate for Fantasyland, not the World Showcase, which is supposed to be grounded in reality, history, and culture. Again, it boils down to how an attraction’s experience and environment can enhance, benefit, enrich, and expand on its respective land and the park as a whole. The idea of an Arendelle Pavilion is in stark contrast with the surrounding countries’ pavilions, the idea of the World Showcase, and the fabric of Epcot. Nor does a Frozen attraction fit inside Norway’s Pavilion, as Arendelle is not a part of Norway, but a fictitious and mythical country that lacks significance to Norway’s actual culture, mythology, and history. I may have said that Frozen has glimpses of Scandinavian culture and legend, but that’s just it, glimpses. Fleeting sights that may intrigue us but fail to teach us anything of substance. That’s not what Epcot is about.

"Norway at Night" by Bob Rowan

The following quotes are from Walt Disney’s EPCOT Center: Creating the New World of Tomorrow (from the park’s opening in 1982, showing Guests what EPCOT Center was all about—unfortunately, I only have the abridged version but I still managed to pull some quotes that reflect the mission of Epcot):

"World Showcase, curving along the shores of the lagoon that connects it to Future World, is a permanent community of nations whose pavilions stand side by side in exemplary amity. [….] Possibly one of the reasons there is no international disharmony is that all of the foreign countries have equal waterfront footage.  […] The broadening effects of tourism work two ways. Not only are Epcot’s guests introduced to the cultures, customs, crafts, and foods of other lands, but on the staff of each pavilion are about a dozen young men and women from that country, giving them a chance to meet Americans and other nationals. Through a program called Showcase Fellowships, these youngsters from participating countries are brought to Ecpot Center not only to work but to participate in an international community certain to enrich their outlook.  […] During the entire year, the Disney entertainment division will focus on particular festivals of the various World Showcase countries… Countries not represented at World Showcase also have been invited to participate, in an effort to create a broad international ambiance.  [… T]he possibilities are virtually limitless for the establishment of a true community of nations at Epcot Center.”

A common criticism of Epcot is the idea that Disney was supposedly trying to deter people from vacationing abroad by providing a faux experience of each country, thus attracting more Guests to their park. But this is actually the opposite of EPCOT Center’s original vision—the idea behind the World Showcase was to peak Guest’s interest in countries and prompt world exploration. While nations and cultures have not always been accurately represented (and have unfortunately been rather Eurocentric), there was an effort for authenticity—Disney’s establishment of the World Showcase Fellowships so the staff in each pavilion would be from its respective country, how everything originally sold in the pavilions’ shops was made in the countries represented, and the want for a variety of countries to be participants in the venture. In the TravelPort in CommuniCore East you could even play around with touch screen previews of various global travel destinations and gain actual information from the travel service desk about booking a trip abroad (an example of how the two halves of the park complemented each other).

Concept art via Theme Park Review

Another quote from further back from an 1975 Annual Report to shareholders for a slightly more nascent concept of the World Showcase and its purpose:

“Beyond the scientific and technological aspects of EPCOT the project holds great promise for the advancement of international cooperation and understanding. The World Showcase, planned for opening in late 1979, will be devoted to this goal. An on-going international exposition, for which an admission will be charged, the World Showcase will communicate the culture, heritage, history, technology, trade, tourism and future goals of the participating nations.”

A fictitious fantasy country does not support this vision, particularly since, as mentioned, Frozen, while carrying hints of Scandinavian culture in sequences like “Vuelie/Frozen Heart” and the coronation scene, is not particularly heavy on actual “culture, history, heritage, technology, tourism, trade, or national goals.” It doesn’t contribute to showing us something about the world or teaching us something about Scandinavia. It isn’t even set in a “real” country, which completely contradicts the very basis of the World Showcase and the vision of Epcot—a park designed to show us the possibilities of the future through both technology and international harmony, to teach us both science and culture, to provide not escapism like the Magic Kingdom, but intellectual enrichment and opportunities to become curious and excited about reality (though I personally think there’s more to the castle parks than pure fantasy and escapism, but, again, that’s for another time and another post). Even if the park has suffered from outdated representations and irrelevant character additions, it’s a vision worth admiring and defending. Pulling a quote from Theme Park Insider:

“The report implicitly raises an interesting question, however: Is it better for Norway to have an Epcot pavilion filled with outdated information and cultural stereotypes, or to allow Disney to reimagine it as unapologetic fiction? It is easier to justify abandoning a non-fiction theme when the non-fiction isn’t that accurate anymore, after all. But why must those be the only two choices? What about Norway, or, more likely, a Norwegian company, putting up the cash to renovate the Norway pavilion into something more exciting, more entertaining, and more accurately reflective of Norway today? Yeah, that’s not as conceptually easy as just making the whole thing into Arendelle, Florida, but theme park design pros usually rise to a challenge when given the opportunity and means to do it.”

Going back to the basis of theme park design, a Frozen attraction or pavilion is an example of an attraction concept detracting from its respective land and park rather than enhancing and enriching it. It only continues the homogenization of Disney parks into the generic Disney brand and continues watering down what made Epcot special. That’s why I’m against a Frozen presence in Epcot (and quite frankly, I’m against practically any Disney character presence at all besides Epcot originals like Figment).

A Frozen attraction or presence in Fantasyland in the Magic Kingdom (or other castle parks)—a land that’s a celebration of our imagination, our creativity, and our ability to believe in fantastical things—is a far more appropriate placement. It fits all of those themes well. If made into an immersive attraction that invites the Guests to partake in the creativity and wonder of its world and environments, then it could be a strong addition to Fantasyland and help bring new depth to those themes. Not to mention that a lot of Frozen concept art had somewhat of a Mary Blair influence which could easily translate to a theme park attraction and fit in artistically with other rides that have a heavy Blair influence on either their films or the attraction itself—Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, and, of course, “it’s a small world.” If designed and constructed well, the popularity of the film shouldn’t matter, but where it’s placed and the way it affects its surroundings, its respective land, and the park should. A theme park attraction doesn’t exist in isolation, and if it ultimately only combats with and detracts from its environment and their themes, there’s no point to its existence, it’s only an opportunity wasted.

  

"The Spirit of Norway" by Brandon Meier, unknown via pinterest, "Norseman" by misterhowe

Photo credits listed below pictures. All non-credited photos are from Wikipedia. If you know the artist of the middle photograph in the above photo set, please contact me so I can credit them.

EDIT (9/12): It is official. The Frozenapocalypse takes over October 5th. Sad times. Short and sweet additional reading from one of my favorite theme park tumblrs.

Welcome to Jurassic Park

I recommend watching this video before continuing unless you're familiar with the structure of Jurassic Park: The Ride, since I'll be referencing its layout and details a lot through this review. 

Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Universal Studios Hollywood, I’ve forgotten how beautiful this ride is. The reveal of Jurassic Park towards the beginning as the doors open and the music builds is fantastic. I’m a sucker for reveals like those—seeing Sleeping Beauty Castle after walking under the tunnel and around the corner, witnessing space unfold before your eyes as you begin to climb the third and final lift hill of Space Mountain (after being teased with a small glimpse of it directly in your line of vision during the entirety of the second lift hill), sailing from a dark cavern into the midst of a pirate ship and the town engaging in battle on Pirates of the Caribbean. I love that stuff.

 I also greatly admire how perfectly this story works in a theme park setting. It was a pretty genius choice—literally placing a ride about a tourist park inside a tourist park. It’s a metaride inside a metapark. Thanks to this, everything feels purposely and natural—the boarding and disembarking of the boats, the lifts, the queue, the lines. It makes natural sense that all these elements would be in the world of the ride since in that world we are on a tourist attraction. There are very few attractions telling such a concrete story that give such obvious purpose behind these intrinsic features of an attraction, simply because of its perfect premise. Those that do are also framed as some type of tourist attraction—Indiana Jones Adventure comes to mind (we are all tourists on that ride as well—measuring our height, making sure our seat belts are fastened, waiting in line to board the jeeps, everything makes sense in the context of the story).

The three act structure here is really solid. I like that, unlike many other (particularly screen-based) Universal rides, it takes its time and doesn’t throw nonstop action at us, since you’re far more limited at what you can throw at the guests when you’re dealing with real spaces and animatronics. This doesn’t make attractions like the Forbidden Journey or Transformers necessarily bad or less sophisticated, but it’s refreshing. (Yes, Jurassic Park: The Ride was technically built before either of those rides, but Universal’s experimentation with 3D screens and new ride systems like the KUKA arm or the vehicles designed by Oceaneering International for Transformers/Spiderman are typically what the parks are praised and known for nowadays.) It shows why physical sets are so important and what Universal can do with them. The physical environment fosters a sense of exploration and believability that screens cannot.

The three act structure lets each section be very clear in tone and creates a crisp, strong story and experience for the attraction as a whole.

Act one—entering Jurassic Park and witnessing its beauty and grandeur. It begins as we board our boats, traveling up the first hill and gracefully floating out of the regular world and into Jurassic Park. The opening of the gates that welcome us into the land, the tropical plants, the majestic Ultrasaurus and the sweeping music. It gives us a taste of Jurassic Park’s wonder, embracing us into the world.

Act two—we pass through a cave that separates the second act from the first. Upon exiting this cave, see more quirky dinosaurs à la Jungle Cruise. I mean, try to tell me that this:

Photo via The Studio Tour

Does not remind you of this:

Photo via Dad’s Guide to WDW

This portion, along with letting us see a greater variety of dinosaurs and giggle at their antics (again, à la Jungle Cruise), reminds us that dinosaurs have their own personalities. The two little ones fighting over a popcorn box and the one spraying us with water remind us that they have a mind of their own. The ride slowly builds up to the fact that something may be wrong as we enter an unauthorized area—the electric fences, the static on our radio, the danger signs.  

However, despite the garbled but unmistakingly panicked feed we’re picking up on our radio, we can’t be sure how much danger we’re really in. We only know that we’re in an unauthorized area with no clue why the area is unauthorized. Is it just because the park staff wants to keep us on course? Or is there something more menacing about this area? The abandoned boat and floating Mickey Mouse ears suggest the latter.

Photo via In the Parks

This act ends with the car falling from the roof in front of our raft before we begin our ascent up another waterfall to the last act.

Act three—confirms the suspicions that we got in the last act. The inside portion of the ride is where we discover that ominous “something” the second act was builds up as we see the first appearance of the T-Rex. We are now certain that we are in danger and aren’t sure how it’s going to end as we float helplessly in the darkness to the sound of alarms and flashing lights.

Our entire perspective on the experience and the ride has changed. Much like the betrayal of the experiential story that we face on rides like Splash Mountain (go check out Pure Imagineering, great theme park analysis and essays), we were aware that there was a drop and were perhaps enticed by the promise of dangerous dinosaurs (the park’s logo is a T-Rex, for goodness’ sake), but we were swept away by the beauty of the Jurassic setting and now that we are actually in danger, we are fearful and perhaps somewhat regretful. Because of the way we were introduced to the dinosaurs and seen their interactions, they have become real to us to some degree. We may have originally feared nothing, thinking that it’s just a theme park ride, that the dinosaurs are nothing more than rubber and metal and wires. But we have allowed our disbelief to be suspended, we are, on some level, part of this world.

Everything building up to the second, full appearance of the T-Rex and, of course, the drop, delivering the original premise and threat of the attraction. It’s a strong structure that tells a really good story, each act supporting the other to create a memorable, well designed experience.

Photo via The Hettema Group

Photo via Wikipedia

However, I would slightly rearrange these acts. In my personal opinion, a few modifications to the narrative structure and time we spend in specific environments could make a big difference to the ride experience, particularly regarding the effectiveness of the three act structure and the ability to suspend our disbelief. Here is my proposal:

Act one—in the current iteration, we enter Jurassic Park and, boom, there’s dinosaurs right away.

Unknown source

Well, isn’t that what you expect from a Jurassic Park ride? Yes. And that’s why you don’t want to show them right away. Good theme park attractions don’t reveal everything at once. The master example of this is Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean where we are promised pirates, yet have to wait for their appearance. For more reading, I highly recommend the essay Fire in the Night: Pre-Eminent Attractions-as-Art from Passport to Dreams Old & New (incredible essays to be found there). We first wander through a New Orleans bayou, a dark corridor, underground caves with waterfalls, coves with pirate skeletons, and another ride dark cavern (ignoring the Davy Jones mist screen) until we finally see real pirates—six minutes into the attraction. 

First, it makes the payoff so much more rewarding. Like I mentioned above, coming out of the dark cavern and seeing the Wicked Wench is one of my favorite examples of a good theme park reveal. We’ve been teased with the remains of pirates with no traces of living pirates in sight and thematic elements that seem to have no connection to pirates whatsoever, but now we finally are given what we are promised. Second, all the time building up to that reveal allows us to suspend our disbelief and really drift into this surreal dream world as we sail further and further away from the loading station. When the pirates appear, we have an easier time believing them. The time is critical to letting the guest enter into the world. Animatronic pirates are obviously not genuine swashbucklers and take a good amount of investment from the audience to become real. And by giving the guest various scenes filled with more real, physical elements leading up to the animatronics pirates—waterfalls, caverns, skeletons, gold piles—the suspension of disbelief becomes a little easier since we’re easing our way into the attraction’s world without being asked to buy into its core immediately. Haunted Mansion is another good example of this—it promises us ghosts, but we don’t actually see the haunts until the grand ballroom scene. Instead, we see traces of them interacting with the mansion (floating candelabras, shadowy hands passing over grandfather clocks, phantom door knockers moving on their own) and other supernatural phenomenon (the séance room, the raven) before they materialize.

This isn’t true for Jurassic Park. We’re given the dinosaurs immediately, a concept harder to buy into than pirates. Sure, there’s a gate that creates both a physical and mental divide between the outside world and Jurassic Park, but that’s not enough. There’s also no real payoff (besides, perhaps, rewarding us for waiting in line, but the simple state of finally being on the ride is payoff enough for the wait).

Ideally, the first act wouldn’t have any dinosaurs. We must wait a minute before seeing the prehistoric beasts to acclimate ourselves to this new world. The tropical plants, rock formations, river, and waterfalls that surround us are obviously real, though their beauty is from another world. This environment could ease us into the world of Jurrasic Park, giving us time to immerse ourselves in the environment and suspend our disbelief so we’re more integrated into the setting by the time we see the dinosaurs. It would be an opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the park on its own merits, something we weren’t expecting to be treated with or even knew we wanted. But the mist from the waterfalls, the lush foliage, the colorful flowers, all set to the beautiful score move us. It’s these unexpected moments that really take an attraction to the next level. Moments we may not fully remember compared to the appearance of the T-Rex at the attraction’s climax, but that fundamentally alter our experience of the ride on a subconscious level. 

This unexpected appreciation of the park’s beautiful and tranquil side would make the “betrayal” in three act structure stronger. Initially attracted by the idea of dangerous dinos, we’ve realized that there’s so much more to Jurassic Park, we’re most invested in the reality of the world, and thus more anxious and frightened by the threat of the third act. The only narration in this portion would be “welcome to Jurassic Park” as the gates open, giving the guest a chance absorb things and willingly integrate themselves into the world rather than having it pushed upon them.

Act two—this is where we would see the dinosaurs, a good several minutes into the attraction, making the appearance more rewarding and exciting, as well as feeling more natural as we have had time to enter into this new world. This portion would essentially remain the same as the current attraction, but with the addition of the dinosaurs in the current first act to really make this segment “Jungle Cruise but with dinosaurs,” which can essentially be broken up into three scenes—the majestic dinosaurs from the current first act, the quirky dinosaurs with minds of their own, and the entry into the restricted area that prepares us for entry into the third act. This is where all the narration would be, minus to the solitary line of the first act.

Act three—unchanged, but strengthened by the rearrangement of the first two acts.

This is small complaint and the ride is still a beautiful attraction that knows what it’s doing. These additions would also add about 2-3 minutes onto the ride and I’m not sure that there’s feasible space to do that in Hollywood or other parks where the ride exists (which, excluding the rapid rides, all have the same basic narrative structure, with some minor differences in the details of each act). Besides, the ride already cost almost double the money to make than the movie itself ($110 million versus $60 million). However, it’s the small things like this in the narrative structure that can make the difference between a good ride and a great ride, and a great ride and a masterpiece.

However, Jurassic Park: The Ride is still breathtaking and still an indisputable classic that does so much right. The opening of its gates and reveal of its tropical landscape is one of my new favorite moments in theme park design. I hope to return to Universal Studios Hollywood to experience it in person again soon.

Photo via Wikipedia

Photo credits listed below pictures.  If you know the artist of the second to last photo under the last gif, please contact me so I can credit them. Gifs made on gifsoup from linked video. 

Care, Conviction, and Characters

Pinocchio’s Daring Journey by HarshLight

A great close-up of Pinocchio’s Daring Journey’s finale. I like that you can specifically see that Pinocchio is, indeed, still a wooden puppet at the ride’s end. 

There was a rather interesting discussion on this finale a while back on MiceChat’s forums regarding the absence of transformation scene—particularly because this finale incorporates very key elements of the transformation as seen in the movie (i.e., Pinocchio and Geppetto are seen safe and re-united in their home and the Blue Fairy appears by Pinocchio’s bedside)—which launched an interesting conversation on the adaptation of movies into attractions and the importance of varying the ride experience from the source material so that’s its experience is more suitable to the medium of three-dimensional storytelling. 

A ride cannot be a paint-by-numbers version of its respective source material—copying-and-pasting the movie’s highlights does not create a successful attraction. Film is a different medium than theme parks and an understanding of how both work is needed to successfully adapt the source material into an attraction. Rides that fail to grasp this concept—like The Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Undersea Adventure/Under the Sea: Journey of the Little Mermaid, which essentially tried to cram as many songs from its Oscar-nominated soundtrack as possible instead of choosing one specific tone to convey to the guest (while trying to dazzle guests with advanced animatronics instead of actually immersing them into these characters’ world to experience a story)—ultimately result in lackluster attractions. 

The Fantasyland Dark Rides (Snow White’s Scary Adventures, Peter Pan’s Flight, Pinocchio’s Daring Journey, Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, and Alice in Wonderland) have remained widely popular, successful, and all-in-all good attractions not because of their source material, but because of their ability to adapt it with wisdom and artistry. Each of the rides—in addition to successfully immersing and engaging the guest in their various environments—focuses on a very distinct tone to develop through the course of the ride experience. They don’t base the rides off an attempt to incorporate as many significant scenes from a feature as possible to form an attraction—after settling what idea and complementary tone will be the focus of the ride, they subsequently choose portions from the respective film that will establish and enhance this story and its tone.

Coming back to this particular ride’s finale, it was pointed out that the journey is the main focus of Pinocchio’s attraction (as is evident from its subtitle), so the celebration at the end of the attraction emphasizes his return home, not his transformation, to keep the focus on the journey. 

I think this is a solid explanation to the “missing” transformation scene and a great example of how the Fantasyland dark rides work. The ride isn’t about Pinocchio’s journey to becoming a real boy (this particular plot point is never mentioned), it’s about his physical journey through various settings and the adventures he has along the way. At the ride’s end, Geppetto is actually celebrating Pinocchio’s return home, not his change into a real boy ("Pinocchio’s home! This calls for a celebration!"), which presents a resolution to what we have been experiencing as the Guest. 

I can see how the Blue Fairy’s inclusion in the scene may seem a little odd—this does seem to imply some sort of magical change for those who are familiar with the Pinocchio story—but I think her presence is easily explained as being somewhat of a guardian angel for Pinocchio. She oversaw his (and, by extension, our) journey home (even intervening to set us free from Stromboli’s cage) and is bidding us farewell now that we have safely reached our destination, resolving the conflict of the ride—that being the multiple dangers of this "daring journey."

With every addition to a theme park, concept is key to creating a good attraction—not gimmicks, not franchises, not IP, not even technology. If the concept is cluttered, unspecific, and uninspired, it will never live to be named a masterpiece. It can dazzle momentarily, but its spark will fizzle out into the depths of yesterday.

To be avoid this fate, a concept needs to have conviction—it needs to know what it is, it needs to be precise in its tone and story, it needs to understand its presence in the context of its respective land, it needs to know how to complement and enhance that land’s theme, it needs to know how to immerse the guest into its universe and understand what the guest’s role will be in its world, and it to consider the collective effect of these aspects and roles to truly understand what its greater effect on the park once it is realized into three dimensions. The Fantasyland dark rides embody this—they are immersive, they are precise, and they each have a distinct contribution that ultimately enhances and develops the character and identity of Fantasyland—and something as little as a disparity between a film’s finale and its respective attraction’s finale can really highlight this mastery and command of the language of theme parks.

Sometimes I worry that Disney, when creating sub-par attractions like The Little Mermaid or Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage or Winnie the Pooh, fails to display this mastery in their work due to a lack of conviction that stems not necessarily from a lack of understanding, but from a lack of care. Apathy and complacency is dangerous to the creation of art—thinking that familiar characters and franchises can subsidize an absence of conviction or artistic vision shows a deep lack of care and respect for what these attractions are. The insertion of these icons and characters must be a mere complement to something much greater and profound.

For without care, you cannot have conviction. And without conviction, your story and your message will ultimately crumble.

(Here’s the thread for those interested in the original discussion I that referenced.)