Bob Gurr vs. the Yeti

Bob Gurr vs. the YetiThe hosts of the Season Pass Podcast sat with Bob Gurr (in the man’s house actually) and fed him questions from twitter. People asked the usual—favorite project, best thing about this or that—but one listener wanted to know something specific.

“Ask him if he knows how to fix the Yeti.”

The podcast crew laughed and groaned. Here we go…that stupid Yeti again. One more thing that should be great but just isn’t and no one knows what to do about it. Bob Gurr quieted the room…

“Why yes I do.”

Expedition Everest is Disney’s Animal Kingdom’s premiere attraction and the huge audio animatronic Yeti is the ride’s crowning jewel. The roller coaster dives around and through Mt. Everest, having near misses with the Yeti until finally coming face to face with the giant beast.

The ride is fantastic, but the Yeti itself is a marvel of engineering. Disney wanted this attraction to have a memorable grand finale. The result was an enormous, lunging, swiping audio animatronic that could move so fast and exert so much force that it needed its own support structure and foundation independent of the rest of the building (Imagineers like to say that Expedition Everest is really three buildings in one—the ride track, the mountain and the Yeti).

The Yeti is a marvel of engineering…and a total failure. Walt Disney Imagineering wanted to make the creature as real as possible, so it needed to be big and fast and heavy (the fur alone weighs 6,000 lbs.). All that speed and all that force combined with all that weight meant that the machine was a ticking time bomb. Once the Yeti was switched on it began to tear itself apart. It only functioned for a few months before Disney shut it down.

“Why yes I do,” Bob Gurr said as he blew a “kiss” to the engineers who designed the Yeti.

“You want to create the drama of the size of that very, very threatening creature,” Bob mused. “Alright, stop at that moment and figure out, ‘What is the lightest, simplest thing that I could do to do that?’ “

Bob Gurr understands “kiss”—a classic design principle meaning “keep it simple, stupid.” He did not say, “You want to create the size of that very, very threatening creature,” he said, “You want to create the drama of the size.” A very different thing.

The final, grand reveal of the Yeti lasts only a few seconds. The massive audio animatronic was a marvel of engineering, unfortunately a marvel of engineering wasn’t the ultimate goal. The ultimate goal was a feeling, an emotion, and a well told story. Bob knows this. He should approach design challenges from an engineering first perspective (*note: this line originally identified Bob Gurr as a “licensed engineer,” but he is not as stated in the comments of the “about” page), but he perfected his craft under the watchful eye of Walt Disney. To Walt, story was king. Bob understands that, as an engineer in the entertainment industry, his job is to support the story. There is no need to create something so big and so complex when the drama of size, not size itself, is required.

Keep it simple, stupid.

“Some people do not have the ability to think clearly.” Bob Gurr knows how to think clearly.

Without words: classic Disney meets modern Disney

"under the sea" section from Ariel's Undersea Adventure“Why do they keep making the same rides over and over?” my wife asked.

I shrugged and shook my head. “I don’t know…” The two of us had just come out of the Little Mermaid attraction in Disney’s California Adventure and were pretty disappointed. Ariel’s Undersea Adventure is an elaborate, expensive retelling of the animated film and, like the very similar Monsters Inc. attraction Mike and Sulley to the Rescue, was installed in an attempt to save Disneyland’s sister park from itself.

California Adventure had opened with alot of fanfare and not much else, and Disney fans complained that the park had a distinct lack of Disney. The company set out to fix this and has been very successful, adding nighttime shows, rethemed areas and the spectacular Cars Land, but they also created the Little Mermaid and Monsters Inc. rides. They called them “classic Disney dark rides,” but most people were less than enthusiastic. The rides are pretty, have lots of music and they take you slowly past colorful audioanimatronics like so many other Disney attractions, but they just lack that certain something.

It was Easter Sunday. My wife and I were expecting big crowds and lots of lines during our first trip to California Adventure, but neither Monsters Inc. nor the Little Mermaid had any lines whatsoever. They each had enormous space blocked off for people to wait, but the queues were deserted. After riding each attraction we understood why. Shrug. We thought about heading back over to Disneyland to ride Pirates of the Caribbean again.

The Season Pass podcast logoOn episode #206 of the popular themepark podcast The Season Pass, Disney Imagineering legend Bob Gurr joined the hosts to talk about the themed entertainment industry, his book and whatever else popped into the sharp witted engineer’s brain. Bob was with Walt Disney from the beginning of Disneyland so any story he tells (and he has alot to tell) is golden.

During the interview, the hosts began to talk about the classic Disneyland attractions Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion. They noted that modern rides are just new technology built on top of Bob’s old techniques but continued off into a little “they don’t make ‘em like they used to” mini-tangent, suggesting Ariel’s Undersea Adventure as an example of a particularly poor ride. Bob Gurr, a good man from a different time, didn’t want to run down the new crop of attractions, but he did offer one observation—

The strength of Pirates and the Haunted Mansion comes from the storytelling, plain and simple.

Well, ok. I’ve heard that plenty and I get it. He went on to say, though, that those attractions get their message across quickly and clearly, without the need for words. The “no words” thing, ironically enough, got me listening to the words he was saying. Someone ridding through a town being sacked by a marauding band of pirates or a house being overrun by restless ghosts has no trouble understanding what is going on. When they say “storytelling” they don’t just mean story, they mean a story being told in the way that it was meant to be told. Storytelling. It’s a story made for this ride and that’s why it works.

It makes perfect sense.

To look at why one ride works makes it plainly obvious why another does not. The stories of the Little Mermaid (as we now know it) and Monsters Inc. were created for film, not for themed rides. They are very complex and have alot of things that need to be communicated so the audience can understand what is going on. This requires a heap of words. Even in the Little Mermaid film, there was alot of verbal backstory and buildup required for Ariel’s loss of her voice to be effective.

Both attractions attempt to retell their films from start to finish, impossible to do in the span of a few minutes and a few more feet of ride track.

Even rides like Snow White and Peter Pan, which these newer attractions try to emulate, have very weak spots that are the result of trying to tell the story of the film. The best part of the Snow White attraction is running through the spooky forrest, but it gets a little mixed up when it tries to tie up the movie’s plot. The best part of the Peter Pan attraction is flying out the window and over London, but it suffers the same when it dips too literally into the film. Both running through the spooky forrest and flying over London are experiences that are easily understood and these are the moments that make the attractions memorable. Whether you have seen the movie or not, you can understand what is being conveyed.

The classic attractions are great when they tell the small story of an emotional experience. The classic attractions slip up when they try to stick too closely to the films. Unfortunately Ariel’s Undersea Adventure and Mike and Sulley to the Rescue are mostly all of the latter and almost none of the former.

My wife and I continued our wanderings through California Adventure. She was particularly excited to go on the Monsters Inc. ride since it’s her favorite Pixar film. Unfortunately we were both pretty disappointed by what we got. They don’t make ‘em like they used to. Either that, or they are trying too hard to do just that. Too bad they decided to make the ride a “classic” instead of just making it “good.”

Bob Gurr and how to become an Imagineer

Bob GurrImagineer Bob Gurr answers how to become an Imagineer

Imagineering Disney, a Disney blog run by an occasional freelance designer for the Walt Disney Company, reposted a brief question and answer session with former Imagineer Bob Gurr. For those unfamiliar with Bob, he was one of the early Imagineers who worked on Disneyland (it’s been said that he designed everything that moved at Diensyland) and worked directly with Walt Disney.

I can write all day about how to become an Imagineer, but the fact remains that I don’t really know since I ain’t one. Better to take some advice from someone who is.

Visit imagineeringdisney.com, read the post about Bob Gurr and then poke around to have a look at the retro-sexy stylings of one of the better looking blogs in the business.

——

Imagineering Disney

The focus of a lion

Lion painted with an ink wash and pen (original design from Disney's The Lion King)I made this lion with an ink wash and a couple of art pens. Before we get too far, it’s an adaptation of a piece of concept art from The Lion King, but still it looks pretty cool (mine wound up looking meaner than the original—I’m thinking therapy party!).

The original artist working on the Disney film used an orangish colored pencil instead of an ink wash, but the principle of an abstract mane with a more defined face is the same.

The thing that I like about the design is that it doesn’t so much recreate a lion but instead suggests a lion. A mane is an important part of identifying a creature as a lion, but it is the intensity—that face and the deep and focused stare—that is so compelling. When we see a lion we take in the whole creature very quickly and then just as quickly dismiss certain features and focus on what matters. The artist who drew the original understood that he or she needed focus.

FoxxFur, who created the Musical Souvenir, said she left crowd noise out of her audio recreation of the Disney World landscape because, when we experience our surroundings, we naturally filter out things like random noise and understood environmental sound. She said we are really only conscious of crowd noise when someone unnaturally puts these sounds into a recording and we can’t mentally mute them. I guess when we experience our world we take in what we need in order to understand our surroundings and then quickly forget about all of it so we can focus on what really matters.

The great artists and creators in our world seem to understand this very deeply. The rest of us, one by one, click over from thinking about it to actually doing it. Maybe you’ll be next, but probably not since I plan to get there first.

Greece: you’re the one that I want

I was searching for a morning snack when a man walked past me and grabbed a Wall Street Journal.

“I don’t know if I even want to look,” he said, shaking the paper as he looked at the little line graph that went down and down. This was the day after one of the worst market failures in a long time, spurred on by a European Union that is looking more and more like a neighborhood that used to be but just isn’t so much anymore.

“My iPad sends me little market notifications,” I told him. “Each day it’s just one thing after another.” I’ll be doodling my little heart out and suddenly doodeedoopDow finishes down nearly 2%, everybody has less money now; doodeedoop—Credit rating agency downgrades 15 major global banks, you didn’t actually give these people your money, did you?; doodeedoop—Global economic collapse…you know what, just go back to bed.

(If you noticed, these notifications show up while I’m drawing, meaning I I’m an art guy, not a money guy. Just like the near constant “bird flu’s a commin’, everyone gonna die”  media blitz from several years ago, I have very little concept of what any of this actually means, I just know it’s a “not good” thing.)

“We should just buy Greece…turn it into just a big tourist destination,” the man said. “It can’t cost much at this point. Who’s the guy who just bought that Hawaiian island?”

“Larry Ellison at Oracle,” I told him with a grin.

“Right. One guy can buy Hawaii, surely our country can afford Greece.”

Larry Ellison--from Hawaii with love

I couldn’t help but wonder, how much would Greece cost? In the game Monopoly you can always negotiate a ridiculously lopsided deal with someone who is desperate to stay in the game. Greece has to be beyond desperate since all their cards are flipped over and they keep landing on that stupid income tax space every time they pass Go. Maybe it wouldn’t take our government, maybe Larry Ellison could afford Greece all on his own (probably with his Free Parking money). If we are talking tourist destinations, maybe biggest name in tourism should throw in their hat. Their Mickey ears hat. Just imagine, Disney’s Greece. They tried and failed to build Disney’s America, maybe it’s time to take another shot at dropping the brand on an entire country. They could build attractions like a classic Aristotle-themed dark ride, Alexander the Great’s escape and a spectacular pageant of nighttime god and goddesses in thousands of sparkling lights and electro-synthe-magnetic musical sounds.

Discus thrower with Mickey earsThe cast of High School Musical could “rock this Acropolis” with special guests Phineas and Ferb (Phineas sounds kinda Greek, right?)

I’m planning to out maneuver both Larry Ellison and Disney though. I told the increasingly depressed man flipping through the paper that I was going to have to call an emergency meeting at work. “Boys, you know how this company is looking for stuff to add to the catalog? I’m thinking Greece. I’m telling you, I’ve got chills! They’re multiplyin! It’s the one that we want! Ooo ooo ooo!”

Fortunately no one at work listens to a word I say.

End with a bang

Fireworks over Sleeping Beauty CastleOur day in Disneyland was nearly over. We stood and watched Fantasmic, a nighttime pyrotechnics show performed on the rivers of America, followed by the nightly fireworks over Sleeping Beauty Castle. It was the perfect way to end a really fantastic day, and in fact, after seeing the two shows and feeling the final bang of the last firework, it’s hard to remember anything that didn’t go right. The ending was perfect. The day was perfect.

Being home I’ve trained my brain back to local entertainment. The Atlanta attractions get alot of things right, but they can miss the mark when it comes to “Act 3.” Generally when people leave for the day they simply leave. Atlanta’s venues, like most non-Disney/non-Universal attractions across the country, don’t end the day with a bang.

A strange quirk of the themed entertainment business is that the way people end their day completely changes their perception of everything they experienced during their day. People who go home after seeing a big show, a performance or spectacle, tend to rate every element from their day as being better than those who simply went home. Guests rate the attractions better, the lines better, the food better, they even rate the cleanliness of the bathrooms better. Everything raises up to a new level when there is a definitive ending rather than just a, “Welp, time to go.” A grand finale means people will smile as they go out he gate. Smiling faces come back…and they bring friends.

Knowing this, it’s hard to understand why local attractions don’t give more attention to what people take with them when they leave. They try Act 1 (welcome to our place!) have a whole bunch of Act 2 (check out our stuff!), but then forget to finish off Act 3 (yeah, we’re closed). If you were to ask museums and parks what kind of lasting impression their attraction leaves on the guests, they will say, “Well, we hope that…” or, “The goal is…” Nope. That response means you are speaking with someone who doesn’t believe their venue delivers. They may not be sure why the experience sorta fizzles out, but they know it does. Disney knows what their guests bring home with them.

Ending with a bang can be costly (the money that goes into Dsney’s fireworks, water displays and elaborate stageshows could bring most of Africa out of poverty) but quite honestly, it doesn’t have to be. You don’t need to contract the biggest (and most expensive) names in the business to create something special. All that is required is the creative use of the assets that you have on hand, the most important asset being the talent and passion of your staff. People, particularly people from other disciplines, can come up with some amazing solutions to problems when given the chance. A creative person can bring excitement to an academic problem and an academic can bring a realistic solution to a creative problem. This kind of coming together can cause a real bang and bring a solid attraction up to the level of greatness.

Yes, in the film Amadeus Mozart used the idea of “ending with a bang” as a way to insult Salieri (The exchange went something like—Salieri (refering to Mozart’s latest composition): You didn’t even give them a good bang to let them know when it was finished! Mozart (sarcastically): Yes, well maybe I can take lessons from you on how to do that.), but we are talking about entertainment here, not art. Lights timed to music, displays used in unusual ways, a captivating performer retelling the story of the attraction through new and surprising methods can all bring the day to a spectacular close and make people say, “Did you hear what they are doing over at xxx? I have GOT to get over there!”

Obviously you want a guest’s experience throughout their day to be at the highest level possible, but when the day ends, make sure it ends with a bang.

Eternal misery to the Disney fan community

The moon sat low. Concealed in the crags of the California coastline, the men huddled, teeth chattering, bones clattering, within the dimly lit cave. The fire beneath the cauldron grew, putting the slimy rock to sickly yellow light. The chanting of the powerful men grew louder…

“Double double, toil and trouble! We’ll reduce your mem’ries to rubble!!!”

As their voices swelled the bare stone responded in kind, the rolling echo climbing the walls. The men, powerful executives, swayed and swooned in their cloaks with their chant—we’ll reduce your mem’ries to rubble—rising and falling again and again. A shriek could be heard somewhere, yet nowhere, slowly crawling into the cavernous darkness, and it was from that darkness that Disney CEO Michael Eisner emerged.

The voices were now deafening. Eisner raised his hands and the chanting Disney Board members and lead Imagineers fell deathly silent.

“Gentlemen,” he bellowed. “Long have we awaited this moment. All of our careful planning and plotting, our dream of bringing eternal misery to the Disney fan community will soon be realized!!”

“Zip-a-dee-doo-dah,” the men called in unison, their voices low and menacing.

“This year,” the CEO growled, “this year of 1998 will be the end of all happiness for each and every Disney fan! By the end of 1999, my dear gentlemen, our glorious task will be complete!!!!”

“Zip-a-dee-ay.”

The executives of both the Disney Studios and Walt Disney Imagineering reignited their chanting, “Double double, toil and trouble! We’ll reduce your mem’ries to rubble!!!” Their voices were drowned out only by Michael Eisner’s maniacal laughter as a green fog billowed from the cauldron…

Between 1998 and 1999 at Walt Disney World, Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, the Skyway and Horizons all closed and the new Imagination opened.

True story.

Getting tangled up in detail

Tangled, Disney’s 50th feature-length animation, is not the studio’s first fully computer animated film but it might be their best (Pixar doesn’t count). The design is great (particularly the color, which made me finally tip over and get a blu-ray player) but the story is what really makes the film such a blast.

When you have lots of tricks in your toolbox, as CG artists do, the temptation is to use all of them. Sometimes focusing on the latest and the greatest might make a storyteller lose sight of why they began telling a story to begin with. In the book The Art of Tangled, one of the film’s key artists Glen Keane tells a story about showing off some of the beautiful effects to Ollie Johnston, a legendary Disney animator who mastered his trade under Walt himself.

Keane said:

” ‘Ollie I want to show you Rapunzel!’ I said, ‘Now, Ollie, look at the reflection of the light on Rapunzel’s dress! Look at the freckles on her face! We’ve never been able to do that before! I mean, we’d have to draw every frame like that! And look at all the frills and the fabric that we could never have done before!”

Johnston brought Keane crashing back to steady reality with a single thought. “Uh, Glen, what I was wondering is…what is she thinking?”

Detail separates good from great but Keane was a little lost in them (although only momentarily). Kevin Nelson, a designer for the film, tells a similar story.

I remember when I was a kid in school, they had this assignment: ‘describe your room.’ Be as descriptive as possible. When I was starting out, I described every single thing in the whole room—horrible amounts of detail. What they never taught us at the time was that you’re trying to tell a story with your detail. You don’t want to include the detail that’s not telling the story.

Because detail is so important to storytelling, it’s easy to forget that detail is not the story itself. A storyteller needs to be able to let themselves go and express themselves to the fullest, but unload too much and you run the risk of getting lost.

Brad Bird, director of The Iron Giant and The Incredibles vehemently asserts that “cartoon” is not a genre, it is just one way to tell a story. Detail is an aid, it is something that helps tell the story. Clever wordplay is not the story, a beautiful painting technique is not the story, a buzzword-y marketing campaign is not the story. The story is the story.

When a storyteller goes to work they should let down their hair, but they should do their best not to get tangled up in it. Get it?!?! (sorry…)

Tangled up...in hair

Sailing away with Peter Pan

Peter Pan's Flight

The artists and designers at Walt Disney Imagineering are, first and foremost, storytellers. While they have many methods at their disposal, Imagineers primarily tell their stories visually since most began their careers in film—a visual medium—and only later became theme park developers. Filmmakers control everything the audience sees and Imagineers try to do the same within their parks. Over time both filmmakers and Imagineers have learned an interesting truth: often the most important piece of visual storytelling is not what the audience sees but rather what the audience does not see. This concept is put to great use through something as simple as a sail in the classic attraction Peter Pan’s Flight.

For a story to succeed a storyteller must set some ground rules (time, place, voice, etc.) and stick to them. In the case of Peter Pan’s Flight at Walt Disney World, the storytellers use the ride vehicle itself, specifically the front sail, to establish an important rule—everything of interest will happen beside and below you.

Peter Pan's Flight: ride vehicle

Shortly after you board the attraction your vehicle rises through the opening scenes where a few elevated details are partially obscured by your sail. As you lean around to see, however, those details drift behind and your brain directs your focus to the streets of London below. You can look up and forward again but there is only darkness so your brain quickly understands that the area covered by the sail is unimportant, uninteresting and uneventful.

In fact, there is quite alot going on above and in front of you, such as upcoming elements and ride mechanics, but through scene after scene the idea of only looking down is reinforced and we forget all about the dark obstruction in front, letting us lose ourselves in the story.

All of the carefully crafted misdirection throughout the ride that has trained our brains to disregard everything above is really a set up that pays off beautifully in the final scenes. As we drift past Wendy, trembling on the gangplank, our eyes are at last drawn around our vehicle’s sail and upwards towards the duel between Captain Hook and Peter Pan. We have not been fully conscious of it, but for the length of the ride we have been visually deprived and the sudden burst of light, color, motion and the final reveal of the attraction’s title character in an area our brains have dismissed as containing only darkness is an awakening for the eyes and the mind.

Peter Pan's Flight: Wendy on the gangplank

This is a well crafted story.

Great storytellers know that real fear is created not by things shown but by things hidden, real sexyness is created not by the skin that is revealed but by the skin that is covered, and a real sense of adventure is fostered not by a journey completed but by a journey anticipated. Walt Disney Imagineering continues to reach back to its filmmaking roots, showing guests something special often by not showing them anything at all.

The ride draws to a close and as we are still looking around our own sail, our vehicle drifts around the giant on-stage sail of Hook’s ship where we discover the happy finale that was always there, hiding on the very same set, just out of view. The ride vehicle comes in for a landing, people leave smiling, quietly humming ‘you can fly, you can fly, you can fly’ to themselves. One thing is certain—people know a well told story when they see it…so to speak. 

China’s Wonderland, the theme park that never was

Before China had the promise of Shanghai Disney, they had the promise of Wonderland and by the look of this needlessly creepy video, that promise was broken as the park was never completed.. You can read the blurb at micgadget.com.

It’s interesting how much music plays a part in visual storytelling. I’m willing to bet the place would look very different if you walked around listening to Tijuana Taxi, particularly if these people were there to dance to it.