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.”

Disneyland’s windy detail

I had read all about Disneyland, about the dream and design and everything that went into making it a reality, so getting the chance to finally visit was very special for me. As I walked around trying to take everything in, I happened to glance up and I noticed something I had actually forgotten all about.

Jolly Holiday Bakery“Oh yeah!” There, high atop the Jolly Holliday Bakery was a weathervane.

Mary Poppins weathervaneI told my wife about Disneyland’s tradition of putting specialized custom weathervanes on top of many of their buildings. This one, an iron Mary Poppins, was one of the newest additions.

“Why would they do that?” she asked. It’s a fair question since the majority of the people visiting the park will never notice the little spinning pieces of art. Even if they do notice them they probably won’t think twice, mostly just letting them drift into the scenery. Why in the world would Disney spend energy on something so small when they have so many massive projects to take care of. (they even design them into their concept art)

Disney concept artMy wife is a born engineer. For engineers, there is a right way to do things and a wrong way to do things and everything has a purpose. There is yes and no, on and off, zero and one. She is unique, though, in that she straddles the very exact world of engineering and the very inexact world of design and art. A weathervane that no one notices has no direct purpose and gives no result that can be quantified, but sometimes things that aren’t quantifiable serve a greater purpose.

I love Disney details and Disneyland is a details park. It doesn’t have the “blessing of size” like in Florida and it doesn’t have a blank check behind it like in Japan, but what it does have is a saturation of talent since it’s the home of Walt Disney’s Imagineers.

A weathervane is a small detail, one that by itself doesn’t mean much. Weathervanes plural, however, add up and those together with all the other little touches that make Disneyland what it is slowly starts to change things. When we are in the park we know we are in Anaheim. There is traffic and smog and buildings piled on top of buildings just on the other side of that line of trees. We know this. Somehow, though, the details start to conspire and we begin to believe we are somewhere else entirely. Something happens inside a person as they go from knowing to believing.

Pirate ship weathervaneMr. Toad weathervaneImagineers love detail and know how to tell a story through through that detail. Many of the Imagineers grew up with Disneyland being their park so the desire to make it extra special is very strong. When that happens, no detail is too small.

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.

Herb Ryman’s Horizons

Epcot's Horizons by Herb RymanOne of my favorite Disney artists is Herb Ryman, but you don’t have to go too far out on a limb to say that. He is a favorite among Disney fans for his concept art, such as the rendering above of the much-missed Epcot attraction Horizons, that helped tie emotions to imagined places and places to future memories. Ryman had a knack for seeing through the hard lines of a building or tree or some other physical surface and telling the real story. He was an Imagineer.

For Christmas I received a book called A Brush with Disney: The Artist’s Journey told through the words and works of Herbert Dickens Ryman, and it is filled to the brim with renderings and paintings I had never seen before. Personal works, rough drafts and of course plenty of dreamed up Disney worlds. When I look through books like this I think, “I want to work for Walt Disney Imagineering. How does a person get to be an Imagineer? Where should I go to school and what types of courses should I take? What do I need to do?”

Turns out lots of others feel this way too. People post their questions with the hopes that the magical path to the dream factory will be opened. For those few who have managed to get a response from someone within the organization, the answers are never quite what they were looking for. There are frequent doses of reality: WDI is not just a funhouse of fantasy but a business, contracts in the industry are very short (about 18 months) and you shouldn’t limit yourself by putting Disney up on a pedestal.

“Yeah, but…” they plead, “what do I need to do?”

Imagineers will remind people that it’s important to be passionate about what interests you and be the best at it, while still being a generalist. They say to chase your passions, not a just destination, and maybe—just maybe—with some luck and a little pixie dust, you too may someday be an Imagineer.

“Yeah, but…what do I need to DO???”

If you get into a conversation with an Imagineer, you could ask, “How did YOU get there? What path did YOU take?” in the hopes of doing what they did, but that misses the point. People at Walt Disney Imagineering have personal stories that are individual and uncommon because Walt Disney Imagineering is a place for uncommon individuals. There is no magical path. WDI is not looking for people who have hit all the checkpoints, they are looking for people who belong.

Who does belong? Our good friend Herb Ryman for one.

When Walt Disney needed an aerial rendering of Disneyland, he called the artist in to the studio who, after a little coaxing, agreed to put Walt’s vision on paper. “Herbie,” Walt said, “I just want it to look like nothing else in the world. And it should be surrounded by a train.” With this as instruction, most of us would shake our heads in utter disbelief…twice…stammer and say, “WH-WHAT???” Walt needed instant brilliance and Ryman delivered, creating the single most important piece of art in the history of the Disney theme parks, and did so in a single weekend. Herb Ryman was special, and he belonged.

Ryman went on to create some of the greatest pieces of concept art for the Disney company, painting a feeling that helped convince the Disney board to open their checkbooks and say, “We’ve GOT to build that!!” He was eccentric and his color pallet was absolutely bizarre, but he was able to see the horizon, get there and blow right past it.

Epcot concept by Herb RymanWe can’t be Herb Ryman, but we can be special. At WDI, anyone can do what Disney has already done, but it takes someone special to create something that looks like nothing else in the world (oh, and don’t forget it should be surrounded by a train). They have a word for a person like that at Walt Disney Imagineering—Imagineer.

Here’s a nice little bit of advice from from Imagineering: A behind the dreams look at making MORE magic real (below is the second of two passages from the back of the book, the first called So you want to be an Imagineer and the second called Or just think like one. One addresses being while the passage below addresses becoming. It is significant that the more useful of the two is the latter):

Do just about anything to solve a problem. Have a positive attitude. It will be hard, but don’t act like it’s hard. Be a student, and be a teacher.

Be inclusive, and make sure that everybody has a seat at the table. Be flexible. Learn to recognize the value of untargeted thinking, both creative and applied. Never give up; remember that there is a way to make it work. Wear a lot of hats. Be respectful. Listen. Cultivate a zen-like ability to be unattached to your idea while being passionate about it. Contribute, change, go with the flow. Be adaptable and open to different opinions and experiences. A successful organization is introspective. Always ask, “What’s next?” Most of all, have fun.

“Yeah, but…what do I need to…oh…OH!!!” I’ll see you there.