For many Disney Parks fans, the only thing more interesting than a great ride is a bad one. In fact, our Declassified Disasters series is all about diving deep into the not-so-successful attractions, lands, and parks that have existed across Disney and Universal’s properties and to learn from their mistakes.
But what makes a bad attraction? What fundamental features tend to handicap a story? And for all of us at-home, “armchair Imagineers,” how do we know what mistakes to avoid? Today, we’ll offer our takeaway of tell-tale signs of a bad attraction story – foundational flaws that tend to signal that the ride isn’t going to be a masterpiece. It’s not that attractions can’t rise above these narrative hurdles (and in fact, we’ll offer exceptions for each), but when you imagine a ride that just didn’t live up to its promises, chances are that one of these giveaway goofs was involved.
Which other tell-tale signs of a bad attraction have you come to recognize over your visits? What immediately tells you that designers could’ve done better? Let us know in the comments below, and when you share this feature on social media!
1. “It’s all going to be a simulation”
One of the most tired tropes in literature is the “It was all a dream” twist. You can see why. It’s not just that the “it was all a dream” is a deus ex machina (a sudden and unearned way to resolve a story); it’s that it cheapens everything that came before. It’s a cop-out that allows writers to take bold chances and do unexpected things, then wipe it all away without any lasting effects or consequences.
In theme parks, we’d count “it’s all going to be a simulation” as the equivalent. You’ll find it on Mission: SPACE, for example, which continuously reassures queuing guests that they’re not really going to space… they’re just going to sit in a high-tech ride that simulates the experience. In other words, Imagineers don’t trust you to let go and suspend your disbelief, so they instead insist from the outset that what you’re about to experience isn’t real. For sure, it’s an excuse that could only fly at EPCOT, where Imagineers hope that the technology is just as much a star as the experience itself… but imagine if, before boarding Star Tours, you were told that it was an elaborate ruse and you were going to stay in on place and merely be jostled around to a training video for Rex to complete training! It sort of saps the fun, right?
Believe it or not, the Lost Legend: Soarin’ technically had this “it’s all going to be a simulation” backstory, too. Disney’s official in-universe explanation for the ride held that enterprising aviation enthusiasts at the dawn of the New Millennium had commandeered an old airplane hangar in a high desert airfield and created a roadside attraction allowing everyday people to experience the thrill of hang gliding using a domed screen. Thankfully, the story never really stuck, and folks naturally appreciated Soarin’ for what it was: obviously a simulation, but moreover, an emotional and beautiful flight. In other words, maybe just let the ride speak for itself?
EXCEPTIONS: When you think about it, Avatar Flight of Passage at Disney’s Animal Kingdom subscribes to this plot, continuously reminding guests that their flight will actually be a spiritual one, with the actual experience being undertaken by a linked Na’vi Avatar. But of course, the explanation in this case brilliantly explains why guests need to straddle sophisticated technological seats rather than Banshees, and fits brilliantly in the mythos of Avatar.
2. It takes place in a training center, exhibit, or institute
“Don’t worry; you’re not actually going anywhere, and the gift shop isn’t far away.” That’s essentially what designers are telling you when they set an attraction inside of a “training center,” “exhibit,” or “institute.” It’s a way of grounding an experience, which takes pressure off of designers (no need to construct a compelling world) and guests (no need to use your imagination). And unfortunately, this overused narrative device had a big surge in the ‘90s. Yes, you’ll see it in Mission: SPACE (whose “it’s all going to be a simulation” is really a subset of the “training center, exhibit, or institute” cop-out) but it goes well beyond.
On the Lost Legend: Journey into Imagination, guests entered glass pyramids, boarded purple vehicles in a pastel lobby, and took off on an almost-abstract dark ride through art and literature. Sure, it was illogical, but who cares?
Fueled by a ‘90s push to modernize Epcot and downplay its educational origins, the entire pavilion was redesigned in 1999 to create “The Imagination Institute,” recasting the dark ride as a terribly dull tour through illusion labs. The determination to root the ride in reality meant no Dreamfinder, no Figment, no singing, and no abstraction. The sterile tour lacked whimsy and failed to transport guests… anywhere. Instead there remains that unspoken tether to reality: you’re in a theme park, touring the building you saw from outside. You aren’t leaving it, and you’ll be out of it soon. Nothing more.
See also the park’s Lost Legend: TEST TRACK in its original form, which was unapologetic about being… well… a ride in a theme park, no imagination needed. The pavilion’s cavernous interior became a warehouse of obstacles and tests with no attempt at transporting guests somewhere new.
Its controversial 21st century design at least switched to a TRON-esque digital landscape, asking guests to at least imagine they were somewhere other than a warehouse and rewarding that attempt with a glowing, digital, pulsing landscape that feels far removed from the real world. (And in turn, became an exception to the “it’s going to be a simulation” rule!)
EXCEPTIONS: Several attractions manage to use the “training center, exhibit, or institute” setting to great effect… but mostly by merely using it a frame story and then upending guests’ expectations. For example, the Modern Marvel: DINOSAUR begins in the stately exhibition spaces of the Dino Institute before revealing its new discovery, where guests can leave the Institute behind and travel to the time of the dinosaurs.
Universal Orlando’s MEN IN BLACK: Alien Attack manages to disguise the ride and its showbuilding as a 1964 – 65 New York World’s Fair pavilion, whose naive exhibit on alien life melts away to reveal a covert MIB training facility. An exhibition and a training center would seem to be two strikes, except that the training center, too, is left behind when a real crashed ship sets alien prisoners loose on Earth. Cleverly, at the ride’s end, guests are returned to the MIB headquarters, brain-wiped, then deposited back in the World’s Fair pavilion none the wiser.
3. It requires extensive understanding and backstory
We’ve heard a lot lately about Disney and Universal and their reliance on the intellectual properties they own or license. Like it or not, CEO Bob Chapek is right when he says that if any of their competitors had their properties, they’d be doing the same thing. In other words, with about $100 billion in acquisitions (ABC, ESPN, Muppets, Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, and 20th Century are just the tip of the iceberg) in the last three decades, focusing on in-house IP wouldn’t just be illogical; it would be an assault on shareholders!
And like it or not, existing IPs also have another benefit: built-in recognition. While Disney Imagineers and the designers of Universal Creative can, have, and do go to great lengths to develop original world and extensive mythologies, let’s be clear: that puts a tremendous weight on the shoulders of storytellers.
One of the most famous cases has to be the Lost Legend: Alien Encounter. As the story goes, Imagineers had initially drawn up concepts for the attraction that used Disney’s licensing of Fox’s Alien horror film. Upon opting to go the “original” route instead, designers had to develop their own mythology for the ride: an original dystopian company, an original race of aliens, an original cast of characters, and even an original extraterrestrial… then they needed to communicate that backstory, tone, and atmosphere to queueing guests! That’s a lot of exposition to shove into riders’ ears in a matter of minutes, and frankly, that “Franken-story” is probably the root of most of the attraction’s issues.
And though we love it in its own way, this is also the problem that plagues Universal Orlando’s last original attraction – the Declassified Disaster: Poseidon’s Fury. When the attraction opened, guests reported being totally flummoxed by its incredibly convoluted story, its unclear characters, and even their own motivation as visitors. A total overhaul after just a year or two completely rewrote the story and its characters, but the attraction remains… well… a mythological mess.
EXCEPTIONS: Disney has proven the ability to tackle world-building on a global scale… For example, while the Modern Marvels: Tower of Terror and Mystic Manor both have decidedly simple and straightforward stories themselves (easy to grasp without any prior knowledge), they intertwine in a massive, cross-continental frame story that serves as a scavenger hunt for Imagineering fans around the world. Both rides are evidence that even complex original stories can create rides more compelling and beloved than their accessible-IP counterparts.
4. It’s a character vehicle
No, not a vehicle shaped like a character… In Hollywood, “star vehicles” are movies designed from the ground up with the primary purpose of leveraging a particular celebrity or star. Think of Dwayne Johnson’s Scorpion King, Miley Cyrus’ The Last Song, or TV series like Roseanne, Home Improvement, or Seinfeld. Rather than creating something and then casting a star, these films start with the celebrity and work backwards to a product. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t. And unfortunately, we know that that happens with Disney Parks, too.
Monsters Inc. Laugh Floor doesn’t exist because it’s a great concept; it doesn’t make sense in Tomorrowland; it doesn’t make use of the infrastructure of the attraction it replaced; it doesn’t add much capacity or quality to the park’s lineup. It’s clear that Imagineers started with a mandate to include Monsters Inc. in Magic Kingdom and worked backwards using the limitations of the space and technology to develop the final product.
Unfortunately, we have to admit that that’s also true of The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh at both Magic Kingdom and Disneyland, which are ultimately fairly dull and uninspired dark rides that each replaced a classic (the Lost Legends: Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and Country Bear Jamboree, respectively). Why? Because Pooh (and his accompanying gift shop) needed a place in the parks.
Don’t get us started on Universal’s abysmal pairing of Fast & Furious: Supercharged and Race Through New York Starring Jimmy Fallon, which are two depressingly and frustratingly short-sighted additions that exist entirely to market their stars without any semblance of care toward long-term fit, quality, or balance.
EXCEPTIONS: Don’t misunderstand: Disney Parks are filled with “character vehicles” that are totally successful and enjoyable attractions, ranging from fun asides (Turtle Talk with Crush) to beloved favorites (Muppet*Vision 3D) to full-on anchor attractions (Toy Story Mania) whose primary purpose was to get a hot IP into the parks quickly. The idea of drafting a ride up because a character is popular isn’t inherently bad… but the lesson we can learn from “character vehicles” is that the concept, experience, or ride system really should be able to stand on its own before the IP is added to the mix…
5. It breaks the fourth wall
In performing arts, the “fourth wall” refers to the imagined wall separating the audience from the action. When a performer breaks the fourth wall, they shatter the illusion. Breaking the fourth wall is typically intentional, like a television character pausing the action to address viewers at home, or an actor in a play reciting a monologue to the audience. In a highly dramatized and immersive setting, it can be a stark jolt “back to reality.”
Even in Walt’s time, maintaining the show was of the utmost importance; it’s why concepts of “on-stage” and “off-stage” exist; why a raised, tree-lined berm encircles the park; why Disney went to great lengths to disguise enormous showbuildings. And while tiny little Disneyland is filled with juxtaposed architectural styles and naive architecture, each subsequent ‘castle’ park has gotten better and better at isolating themed lands from one another, completely eliminating any contradictions. Just look at Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge where “Batuuans” have no idea what you mean by “where is the bathroom” to see that commitment taken to its extreme.
Just the opposite, intentionally breaking the fourth wall is… well… cheap. It’s an easy way to get an easy laugh from guests, drawn right out of the self-referential humor of ’90s direct-to-video sequels. Think of the Declassified Disaster: Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management. Throughout the attraction, Aladdin‘s Iago skewers and satirizes the Tiki Birds and their “old” show. He claims to have “purchased” the show outright, and sings spoofs of songs from 1992’s Aladdin as he pokes fun at how old-fashioned and boring the Walt Disney original show was.
It continues right to Iago’s famous closing line that he was going to take a nap in the Hall of Presidents. Yuck yuck. And yeah, it is funny, because that’s totally in the “irreverent humor” style of Iago and the attraction, and because… well… the Hall of Presidents is boring. But when you think of all the work Imagineers did to create the original Tiki Room, Adventureland, Liberty Square, the Hall of Presidents… it’s a “jolt” alright, to see that world-building and mythology skewered for a laugh.
We’re not humorless! Yeah, it’s funny when the gantry lift doors open on Guardians of the Galaxy – Mission: BREAKOUT! with views across the resort and Rocket shouts, “Disneyland?! But that’s thematically inconsistent!” And hey, if Disney wants to take the billion-and-a-half dollars it spent ridding California Adventure of modern music, irreverent humor, thematic inconsistencies, and fourth-wall-breaking, that’s their prerogative! But we all ought to admit that it’s not just funny… It’s also a little lazy. Given that, it wouldn’t be surprising if the Guardians also reference their presence in Epcot as being uncanny when Cosmic Rewind opens. We’ll see!
EXCEPTIONS: For some IPs, breaking the fourth wall is half the fun. Say what you will about The Simpsons Ride at Universal Studios, but it’s entirely appropriate that the ride is themed to… a ride, outwardly spoofs Disney and SeaWorld classics, and launches guests toward a billboard that reads “Send Money to Universal Studios.”
6. It looks a little too much like everyday life
From the very beginning, the thing that made Disney Parks unique was their ability to transport guests somewhere new, Whether it was a far-flung place (Adventureland or Fantasyland) or a long-lost time (Main Street, Frontierland, or Tomorrowland), Walt and his early designers understood that the power of filmmaking could be used to place guests into unbelievable worlds. And crucially, those lands don’t recreate the “real” world; they don’t match to any place or specific time on a map. Instead, they’re idealized and romanticized, passed through a pop cultural lens; they embody the Main Street, adventure, frontier, fantasy, and future that never were, but live in our collective consciousness.
When Disney deviates from that formula, they always hit a snag. Take the Declassified Disaster: Chester & Hester’s Dino-Rama. While digging deeper reveals that the mini-land is rife with story and detail, the fact is that it’s a little too close to home for most guests, who have seen a carnival or a wild mouse coaster at their own local amusement park. The extensive embedded narrative Imagineers crafted for the land is too hidden, and most guests take the area at face value: a cheap carnival built on a bit of the park’s leftover parking lot. The initial thought? “I didn’t have to pay to go to Disney World to ride this.”
On a more global scale, Imagineering fans agree that this was the problem with the entirety of the Declassified Disaster: Disney’s California Adventure when it opened in 2001. Proudly declaring itself different from Disneyland’s old fashioned idealized lands, California Adventure’s districts were meant to be “hip and edgy,” with an “MTV attitude.” Rather than taking guests to historic, romanticized places in California history, the time was “now!” The park played pop music, was stylized as a comic-book style spoof of Californian stereotypes, and made sure to continuously insist that there was nothing “magical” going on at all.
Sure, Disney could’ve built a 1920s Los Angeles Main Street, but built the concrete abstract Sunshine Plaza instead; they could’ve designed a historic 1940s Hollywoodland, but opted for the paparazzi-culture fueled, facade-lined Hollywood Pictures Backlot instead; they built Paradise Pier with stucco walls, faded posters, and bare carnival rides. In short, they built a spoof of modern California – the same California it existed within!
EXCEPTIONS: There are really only two Disney Parks that “get away” with closer adherence to reality: Epcot’s World Showcase and Animal Kingdom’s Africa and Asia. All get exceptions largely because, in an evolution of Disneyland’s M.O., they aren’t actually authentic. Despite a common criticism lobbied at Disney Parks fans, no one would honestly think that visiting Epcot’s Japan would make a trip to the real Japan unnecessary. Instead, World Showcase’s pavilions are their own kind of idealization. They’re what they’re designed to be: cultural emissaries that serve as idealized, sanitized samples of their cultures and cuisine.
Similarly, in Animal Kingdom’s lands, you’re “inside of a story, just like at the Magic Kingdom, but you are not inside a fantasy.”
