Here at Theme Park Tourist, we’re big believers in digging deep. Our Legend Collections are stocked with can’t miss, in-depth features written for theme park fans, uncovering the full, interconnected stories of some of the best (and worst) rides to ever exist.
For example, we’ve covered closed, classic Lost Legends like Alien Encounter, Soarin’ Over California, and Maelstrom; explored Modern Marvels that lead the industry today, from The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man and Tokyo’s Tower of Terror to Phantom Manor and TRON Light Cycle Power Run; and we’ve even opened Declassified Disasters to dig into Disney’s rare (and ridiculous) failures, like Journey into YOUR Imagination, Superstar Limo, and DisneyQuest.
So as we turn our attention to the prehistoric chaos of the solitary opening day dark ride at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, the question is simple: is this wild, off-roading romp through a steaming primeval jungle a Lost Legend, a Modern Marvel, or a Declassified Disaster? Fittingly for one of the most spectacularly uneven, outrageous, and unusual rides at any Disney Park, the answer could be all three.
Today, we’ll trace the tumultuous history of Countdown to Extinction and its subsequent transformation into DINOSAUR, chronicling the so-subtle-you-might-miss-it changes that – depending on whom you ask – either created one of Walt Disney World’s most wild rides, or ruined it.
To “dig deep” into this chaotic Cretaceous adventure, we need to start in the past. So “let’s get in, grab the Iguanodon, and get out before that asteroid hits!” Hang on!
Disney and dinosaurs
Consider this: dinosaurs were the first characters ever brought to life through Audio Animatronics.
That’s because, when the Modern Marvel: The Enchanted Tiki Room opened in 1963, its cast of singing birds was so groundbreaking and sensational, a new name was needed to describe them. Walt and his team coined the phrase “Audio Animatronic” to refer to the feathered reptile cast, well encapsulating their unique, three-dimensional animation paired and synchronized with pre-recorded audio, controlled by cutting edge computers.
Even as the Tiki Birds were taking the world by storm, Disney’s designers were hard at work using Audio Animatronics technology to give new life to their much larger ancestors. Debuting at the 1964 – 65 New York World’s Fair, the Ford Magic Skyway was a wonder, inviting guests to step aboard “motorless” Ford Convertibles to be whisked along elevated highways around – and eventually into – Ford’s World’s Fair pavilion.
Inside, riders would glide through massive sets recreating a primeval world, populated by very large electro-mechanical and Audio Animatronic dinosaurs – a breathtaking encounter with a show-stopping Disney creation meant to draw guests to Ford’s pavilion product showcase.
At the close of the World’s Fair, three of the attractions that Disney had designed for New York were relocated to Disneyland (as “it’s a small world,” Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln, and the Modern Marvel: Carousel of Progress). Ford’s Magic Skyway didn’t make the leap west. At least, not in one piece. Instead, the technologies that powered the effortless aerial highways of the ride were adapted to create the Tomorrowland Lost Legend: the Peoplemover, and the dinosaurs themselves were relocated to a new, prominent Primeval World diorama constructed along the route of the Disneyland Railroad, where they remain today!
When Big Thunder Mountain debuted at Disneyland and Magic Kingdom in 1979 and 1980 respectively, it brought a new dinosaur to Disney Parks… albeit, one that was a bit dustier.
In 1982, Walt Disney Productions opened a new kind of theme park in Florida… EPCOT Center was designed to be a “permanent World’s Fair” of Disney’s own design, with pavilions dedicated to innovation in areas of science and industry. Rather than focusing on the future, a pavilion dedicated to energy looked to the past.
Thanks to sponsor Exxon, the park’s Lost Legend: Universe of Energy was a 45-minute epic attraction that included a dark ride section through a prehistoric world to explore the formation of fossil fuels via nearly three dozen Audio Animatronic figures.
You might even count the 1989 opening of the Disney-MGM Studios and the iconic Gertie the Dinosaur wading in the park’s Echo Lake. Gertie is meant as a tribute to the animated character designed by Winsor McCay in 1913 (when Walt was only twelve) as a historic pioneer in animation. In 1955, Walt even noted on his Disneyland television show that the success of Gertie “encouraged other pioneers to creative efforts that in time,” and “led to the establishment of the animated cartoon as an industry.”
For nearly every decade of Disney Parks’ history, dinosaurs had played some key role in a pivotal attraction. And as the 90s neared, a new generation believed that dinosaurs could solve a key problem discovered with a new theme park.
Disney’s Wild Animal Kingdom
By the 1990s, Walt Disney World had well established itself as the “Vacation Kingdom of the World” promised back in the ’70s. It was a massive, international resort headlined by three theme parks… and just a few years after the opening of the Disney-MGM Studios, the decision was made to add a fourth.
Announced in 1995, Disney’s newest theme park would be entirely unlike anything Imagineering had attempted before. Sprawling across 500 undeveloped acres within Walt Disney World would rise Disney’s Wild Animal Kingdom. As you might expect, real, living animals – over 1,000 of them! – would be the highlight…
And that was exactly the problem… Because while Walt Disney World visitors may come from around the state, country, continent, and globe, but one thing most guests have in common is that they live little more a daytrip away from a zoo.
But wait! Disney’s animal-themed park would stand among the best examples of the so-called “third age” of zoological best practice (marked by entirely naturalistic and seemingly-boundary-free enclosures). And sure, by the mid-90s, most local and regional zoos had organized and arranged their animals by “continent,” and many even managed to pull off “Imagineering lite” to lightly dress those park areas with African, Asian, Australian, and South American facades and soundtracks… but of course, Disney would do it better – its facades more authentic, its habitats more natural…!
Still, the question had to be asked: is any zoo – even a really, really, really good zoo – worth Disney Parks admission prices?
Even exceptionally crafted by authentic world travelers; even with astounding animal encounters in naturalistic exhibits; even with the single E-Ticket Kilimanjaro Safaris ride touring the believable African savannah as its highlight, why would a guest pay $100 to visit a Disney “zoo” when their local or regional zoo might cost $10? Luckily, Imagineers and executives were well ahead of the question. And they had an answer.
Disney needed to convey that Animal Kingdom is many things, but that there’s one thing it is not…
Nahtazū
Though Animal Kingdom would feature animals on display in lands dedicated to Asia and Africa; in the craftsman crossroads of Discovery Island; in the abundant greenery of the Oasis, the park’s “Hakuna Matata”-esque tagline and jingle was quick to shut down any confusion… Is it? Nope! “Nahtazū!”
But this promise would need paired with proof. What – besides the Safari ride, a Phase II rapids ride, and a sprinkling of Disney magic – would actually make Disney’s Animal Kingdom a full-fledged Disney Park, on par with Magic Kingdom? To hear Michael Eisner’s opening day dedication explain it, the park would be a kingdom of “animals real, ancient, and imagined.” And it’s the latter two that would make all the difference…
Unlike your local zoo, Disney’s Animal Kingdom would bring dinosaurs and dragons to life… And trust us, neither of those lands ended up looking as Imagineers had planned. What did they intend to build? Read on…
Michael Eisner knew that the public would need to see Disney’s Animal Kingdom as more than a zoo, and under his watch Imagineers designed two themed lands that would serve that purpose. Just imagine how different Animal Kingdom would’ve been in 1999 – much less today – if these two Possibilitylands had truly come to be.
Beastly Kingdom
To this day, the tale of Beastly Kingdom remains one of the most legendary never-built projects in Disney Imagineers’ portfolio. Branching off of the park’s Tree of Life, this land dedicated to “imagined” creatures would take shape. Like the mythological creatures it inspired, Beastly Kingdom would be a land of extremes. Guests would enter via a pathway forking in a dense, fairytale forest.
One path would lead to the land’s “light” half – a Grecian garden of bubbling springs, white marble, crawling vines, and wonder. A tranquil family boat ride through Fantasia’s “Dance of the Hours” segment (with its dancing hippos, ostriches, and alligators) would be a highlight and provide Animal Kingdom with a much-needed fanciful family dark ride.
But the attraction fans most muse about is Quest for the Unicorn, an immersive, interactive walkthrough hedge-maze. Only those who could locate and awaken the four bronze guardians hidden in the maze would be rewarded with the code necessary to enter the Unicorn’s Grotto for a face-to-face encounter with the steed.
The other path would take on a very different tone, leading into a gnarled, scorched, dark evergreen forest lit by torches and lanterns. Eventually, these twisted woods would empty into a cold, stone village populated by inns, taverns, and shops resembling a storybook medieval town.
Shopkeepers would always have their eyes turned nervously skyward, wary of the horrific fire-breathing dragon that ruled the land. Look no further than the Dragon’s Tower – the land’s central icon and E-Ticket – a thrilling dark ride / coaster deep into the abandoned castle that served as the Dragon’s roost.
Beastly Kingdom would certainly set Disney’s Animal Kingdom apart from any local zoo, and infuse some much-needed Disney identity into the park. But it wasn’t alone.
Dinoland, U.S.A.
Like Beastly Kingdom, Dinoland would take Animal Kingdom to places that even the best zoos couldn’t match. This land would be dedicated to “ancient” animals long-since extinct. And smartly, Dinoland would neither transport guests back to prehistoric times nor bring dinosaurs to ours. This land would be a photorealistic, habitable world just like Harambe or Anadapur, but perhaps a little less exotic.
Set along U.S. Highway 498 somewhere in the United States, quiet Diggs County was barely more than a blip on the map until 1947 when the fossil find of the century changed it all. Suddenly, the quiet patch of land became a paleontological paradise attracting not only college students and scientists, but family-packed sedans looking for roadside attractions on their family vacations. Enterprising locals cashed in on their sleepy town’s new notoriety by embracing their newfound roadside attraction status.
That’s why the land’s reigning E-Ticket would’ve been The Excavator – a rumbling roller coaster (made of steel, but disguised as wood like Disneyland’s California Screamin’… er, uh… the Incredicoaster) constructed around and through inactive dig sites, racing through trenches, diving into tunnels, and shambling past artisan “dinosaurs” constructed of reclaimed digging equipment. (Legendary in its own right, the Excavator made it onto our must-read list of Possibilitylands: Never-Built Disney “Mountains.”)
The second attraction would’ve been a bit more scholarly… and a bit tamer: a time-traveling family dark ride beginning in the Dino Institute. Seated in ankylosaurus-shaped vehicles, guests would travel through a time portal and into the prehistoric world via a slow-moving journey both indoors and outdoors past Audio Animatronic dinosaurs. An awe-inspiring sightseeing trip, the ride would no doubt be a family favorite.
Dragons fall…
Just imagine how different Animal Kingdom would be today if Beastly Kingdom and Dinoland had come to exist as Imagineers had planned! Perhaps most importantly, the park would’ve opened with three solid E-Tickets (Dragon’s Tower, The Excavator, and Kilimanjaro Safaris) and at least two family dark rides (the boat ride through Fantasia and a journey through the primeval world).
Both Beastly Kingdom and Dinoland would elevate Disney’s Animal Kingdom and would differentiate Animal Kingdom from any zoo. So what happened instead?
As design of Disney’s Animal Kingdom entered its final phase, then-CEO Michael Eisner was allegedly astonished by the ballooning price tag of the mega-park and – particularly – by the higher-than-expected cost of backstage animal care and housing that guests would never ever see. Insiders say that he determined that to keep the park’s budget balanced, only one of the two big-budget lands could be financed to open alongside the park. The other, it was certain, would open… eventually. But it would need to wait for a “Phase II” expansion once the park had proven its popularity and recouped some of its initial cost.
Insiders say that the two Imagineering teams working on Beastly Kingdom and Dinoland, respectively, went to war, each petitioning for their land to win Eisner’s affection… and his green light. One need only look at the park’s map today to know which won. But why?
… Dinosaurs rise
There are a few reasons Dinoland beat out Beastly Kingdom…
1) Prehistory in pop culture. The design and concept phase of Disney’s Animal Kingdom began with – and rose alongside – the popularity of Jurassic Park. The Steven Spielberg film had brought dinosaurs into pop culture as never before, cementing Disney’s desire for a dino-land. (In 1996, Universal Studios Hollywood all the way out on the West Coast opened Jurassic Park: The Ride; it would be duplicated at the brand new Universal’s Islands of Adventure in 1999, just a year after Animal Kingdom’s opening).
2) A project in the pipeline. When Michael Eisner arrived at Walt Disney Productions in 1984, he was hand-selected for his cinematic credentials (as CEO of Paramount Pictures) that were needed to revive Disney’s languishing movie studios. In retrospect, we know that the New Millennium also signaled the end of Eisner’s decade-long Disney Renaissance, but at the time he expected the studio’s 2000 film DINOSAUR to be a groundbreaking spectacle integrating CGI and live footage as never before. More on that later, but suffice it to say Eisner understood early on that a dinosaur-themed land at Disney’s Animal Kingdom would help to prime audiences for the blockbuster movie that would debut two years after…
3) Mesozoic merchandise. Chances are that you or someone you know went through a serious “dinosaur” phase somewhere between ages 3 and 12 (or perhaps continuing unto today for some of us). The merchandising opportunities behind dinosaurs were simply too spectacular to pass-up, ensuring that a land dedicated to prehistoric creatures would be one packed with popular souvenirs, too. No doubt that would be even truer once DINOSAUR opened in theaters.
4) A technological breakthrough. But there’s one undeniable reason why Dinoland got the go-ahead over Beastly Kingdom… And it’s because of an innovation on the other side of the country and a world away. Can you guess which ride changed the course of Dinoland and Disney’s Animal Kingdom forever? Read on…
Temple of the Forbidden EMV
In 1995, Disney Imagineering had debuted its most spectacular, grand, oversized, outrageous, and unbelievable ride yet. Born of a new era of cinematic thrills, Disneyland’s one-of-a-kind Modern Marvel: Indiana Jones Adventure – Temple of the Forbidden Eye was unlike anything Disney had done before and, arguably, stands among the best attractions they’ve developed since.
Absorbed into the misty, lost jungles of Disneyland’s Adventureland, guests are cast as nouveau riche members of European high society, drawn to this exotic port by reports of treasure. Newly unearthed by Dr. Henry “Indiana” Jones, the waterlogged river temple is said to be home to the ancient god Mara who would grant visitors to his temple one of three gifts: timeless youth, earthly riches, or visions of the future… unless they dared look into his dark and corroded eyes, leading them on a detour to doom.
The ride careens through collapsing chambers, trips booby traps, jolts through insect-infected corridors, dives through hidden drops, launches headlong toward rolling boulders, and comes face-to-face with the 60-foot tall decaying face of the lost god Mara, carefully traversing a rickety wooden suspension bridge over a pit of boiling lava.
And yet, the real star of Indiana Jones Adventure is the technology that makes it possible. Invented and patented for the ride, Disney’s Enhanced Motion Vehicle (or EMV) was a groundbreaking innovation. Disguised as a lumbering, gas-guzzling troop transport Jeep, the vehicle (seating 12) is in fact a sort of “slot-car” style ride powered along a track, with the passenger array attached to a motion-base.
That means that as the vehicle traverses the temple, it can pitch, roll, sway, rumble, buck, and slam as if it’s climbing rough terrain, whipping around corners, and shuddering to a stop. In fact, each EMV on Indiana Jones Adventure was programmed with a subtle “personality” allowing it to react differently to the trials of the temple.
But the EMV also signaled an important narrative shift: rather than simply being observers gliding through dark ride scenes (think of Pirates of the Caribbean or Haunted Mansion), the EMV kicked off a new genre of modern dark ride, wherein guests are actors in the action. You looked into Mara’s eyes; you tripped the booby trap; you have to make it out alive. Indiana Jones Adventure was the first dark ride to have a vehicle programmed just as lights and sounds had been on its predecessors.
And while Indiana Jones Adventure’s 1995 opening took the west coast by storm, enterprising Imagineers in Florida saw a chance to bring the EMV to Orlando…
Creative compromise
The Imagineers responsible for Dinoland were willing to make a compromise in order to have their project funded over Beastly Kingdom. They knew that Eisner was looking for a bargain, and Indiana Jones Adventure had given them a great one…
Instead of asking for the thrilling Excavator and the placid family ride through time, they were willing to conceptually combine both into a single attraction. Suddenly, this new take on a headlining ride for Dinoland could kill several birds with one stone: it would be a thrill ride and dark ride in one, bring the lauded EMV ride system to Walt Disney World, and save costly research and development dollars by cloning Indiana Jones Adventure’s hardware and ride layout bolt-for-bolt. Since this new Countdown to Extinction could check all the boxes, Dinoland suddenly needed only one relatively inexpensive attraction financed compared to Beastly Kingdom’s bare minimum of three…
Maybe that can help fans to see why Eisner ultimately opted for Dinoland over Beastly Kingdom; it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. But Imagineers weren’t as forgiving… For the design team working on Beastly Kingdom, the cancellation of their project was one too many slights from the infamously budget-conscious Disney under Eisner’s rule.
Many walked out of the company and allegedly took their plans for a medieval fantasy land just a few miles north, where they were incorporated into Universal’s Islands of Adventure (alongside a Jurassic Park land, oddly enough…) Dragon Tower was adapted into the more overt Dueling Dragons, and the rest of Beastly Kingdom’s darker half became the village of Merlinwood. We chronicled that in-depth story in its own feature, Lost Legends: The Lost Continent – a must-read for industry enthusiasts.
Meanwhile, at Disney’s Animal Kingdom…
At Imagineering, work began on bringing Animal Kingdom’s now-assured dinosaur dark ride to life. Re-using Indiana Jones Adventure’s technology and layout, drafts called for a ride borrowing Temple of the Forbidden Eye’s frantic pace, and even its key structure, like the scene above clearly analagous to Indy’s iconic suspension bridge scene.
Ultimately, that proved a little too ambitious. Still quite cost-conscious, Eisner and his executives reined in designs for the ride, and it quickly came in line with a new strategy of synergy. It was inevitable now that the 1998 ride would cross-promote the 2000 film, and thus would introduce the world to the soon-to-be starring species of the movie. Given that the Tyrannosaurus rex had become synonymous with Universal’s Jurassic Park just a few years earlier, the movie-makers opted for the truly unsettling carnotaurus (that’s from the Latin “meat-eating bull”) as their main antagonist, meaning he would be the big baddie in the ride, too.
The horrific carnotaurus would take up residence inside the ride, with three of the attraction’s 11 lifelike Audio Animatronics dedicated to the horned carnivore. The carnotaurus would be nimbler than the T. rex anyway, and feature blazing orange skin and a deafening roar that would make this lizard just as iconic to Disney as the T. rex would be for their competitors up the road.
The Dino Institute was constructed at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, with the massive showbuilding hidden behind it. In a clever bit of Imagineering design, trees were planted on the larger showbuilding’s roof behind the Institute’s museum facade in order to conceal its existence. That way, guests standing before the Dino Institute would believe that it’s truly just a small museum.
It seemed set. Disney’s Animal Kingdom would have the hit it needed. The thrilling race through the last moments of the Cretaceous would be a headlining thrill to hold over audiences until Beastly Kingdom would arrive with its family fare. And when the park opened on April 22, 1998, Countdown to Extinction was its starring (and only) dark ride. On the next page, we’ll step into Dinoland and climb aboard this chaotic extinct adventure. Read on…
Welcome to Disney’s Animal Kingdom, 1998. Just a decade ago, the Disney-MGM Studios opened as Walt Disney World’s third park, setting a new standard and kicking off a series of “studio” themed parks around the globe. Now, Disney’s reinvented themselves again with a theme park that couldn’t be any different from their Studios. Disney’s Animal Kingdom is the anti-studio park, dispensing entirely with “behind the scenes” and instead transporting guests around the world.
Passing through the overgrown Oasis entry, guests are deposited into Safari Village (which would quickly be renamed Discovery Island when hoardes of guests arrived there looking for the park’s starring Kilimanjaro Safaris attraction) from which radiate bridges over the Discovery River. They lead to Africa, Asia, and Camp Minnie-Mickey. But of particular interest today is the fourth crossing, leading to roadside America…
Dinoland, U.S.A.
We’ve already touched on the basics – this is Diggs County, along Highway 498 somewhere in America’s heartland. Before we go any farther, it’s important to touch on just how spectacular Dinoland was designed to be. While often derided by Disney Parks fans for its departure from Animal Kingdom’s otherwise-global design, Dinoland is actually one of the most layered and story-centered areas at any of Disney World’s parks.
Fossils were first discovered here in 1947, and that’s when a brigade of college professors and paleontologists moved in, overtaking the rustic fishing lodge and turning it into a dorm / cafeteria. As word spread of their fossilized finds, the new, collegiate residents of Diggs County began to turn the town into a tourist destination, cleverly and excitedly opening their mess hall to the public (as “Restaurantosaurus”) and marketing their digsite as a roadside attraction.
Their digsite became the Boneyard, a veritable (and in real life, literal) playground to explore and the name “Dinoland” caught on, attracting more and more tourism each year. Consequently, the paleontologists and grad students who’d set up base camp at this active dig coalesced and established the Dino Institute, dedicated to “Exploration, Excavation, and Exultation.”
Initially housed in the old fishing lodge, everything changed when Dr. Helen Marsh was brought on as the Institute’s leader. A visionary director, within days of taking over, Dr. Marsh broke ground a new, modern Dino Institute facility right in Diggs County… and acquired a mysterious technology company called Chrono-Teck Inc… Wonder why? Step inside…
The Dino Institute
Our tour of the Dino Institute begins in the courtyard in front of the museum where a sculpture of a styracosaurus is frozen in the middle of an infinity pool. It’s a stately entrance to the institution, but it’s got nothing on what awaits within.
In fact, the queue for Countdown to Extinction would, anywhere else, stand-in for a full-fledged dinosaur gallery, offering mosaics, murals, and dioramas depicting life during the Cretaceous period, before the exinction-enducing asteroid that collided with Earth and killed over half of all species for good. But the Institute’s greatest treasure awaits within a great domed concourse.
Real paleontologists working here in Diggs County have uncovered the most complete skeleton ever discovered of an ancient predator called carnotaurus. This nimble, pug-faced meat-eater with the horns of a bull must have lived here in Diggs County 65 million years ago when the world looked quite a bit different. As Bill Nye the Science Guy narrates the murals that depict the last moments of the Cretaceous around the concourse, guests look up in awe at the magnificent creature… How spectacular it is to know that it stood here where we stand… how unbelievable it must’ve been to see it in person…
Luckily, we might get our chance.
This is the old wing of the museum, and the true marvel of the Dino Institute lies further on. As we exit the old, static galleries, we’re invited into a briefing room for a communique with Dr. Marsh herself, played by Phylicia Rashad (well-known for her portrayal of Clair Huxtable on The Cosby Show).
“I hope you enjoyed those quaint exhibits in the old wing. That’s how dinosaurs have been presented to the public since the study of fossils began over 150 years ago. Today, that bare bones approach is about to be extinct. In a perfect blending of science and technology, the Dino Institute has created…” she gestures to the model behind her. “…The Time Rover – an amazing vehicle that will literally transport you to the age of the dinosaurs! How? That’s proprietary… But in a moment, you’ll be going live to our control center for a comprehensive safety briefing, then it’s on the tour that will convince you forever that the future is truly in the past!”
As the Dino Institute’s theme crescendos, the feed is interrupted by our safety briefing by way of Dr. Seeker (that’s Dr. Grant Seeker for all you academics and non-profit workers) who’s going to see Dr. Marsh’s tranquil pre-historic sightseeing trip and raise it a bit. “You can help me make history today with the Time Rover. If I can bring you back from the Cretaceous period, it stands to reason that I can bring a live dinosaur back with you!” And wouldn’t you know it, our tagged Iguanodon is waiting right at the end of the Cretaceous period… Right before that asteroid hits… Seeker unlocks our Time Rover’s coordinates.
“Here’s the drill: you follow the homing signal to the Iguanodon, then I’ll enlarge the transport field and boom, you’re back with one additional passenger, extra large. And don’t worry about that asteroid – you’ll be out of there before it even breaks the atmosphere! Trust me! What could go wrong?!”
As the briefing room doors open, we’re ushered into a new part of the building… an underground laboratory quite a bit more sophisticated than the old wing, filled with pulsing wires and ducts. Metallic stairs lead down into a concourse where CTX Time Rovers await, ready to be transported into the past. Every minute or so, a massive power surge signals a great redirect of electricity pulled toward our destination: the Time Tunnel.
Countdown to Extinction
The Time Rover is a lumbering 12-passenger off-roading vehicle designed to tackle the rough terrain of the Cretaceous. And as it hums to life at the loading dock, it seems to shuffle and vibrate with power, heading straight ahead into the security scanning zone around the corner. The Rover pauses as a green security beam sweeps over the vehicle. “Hey guys, it’s me – Dr. Seeker! We’ve got a date with a dino…”
A claxon alarm begins to blare and a spinning red light signals that our destination is unapproved. But it’s too late. “Let’s move it!” Silver doors swing open into the Time Tunnel. “See you on the other side!” The pathway angles upward into the metallic corridor, where flashing strobes illuminate coiled panels, pulsing with red energy. Suddenly, the Time Rover isn’t a rumbling vehicle anymore… it’s lifting off the ground. As a soft layer of fog overtakes the Time Tunnel’s floor, the Rover begins to float. As the power builds and the tunnel walls spark, a green laser curtain appears ahead and expands, creating a portal. On the other side of the portal, a dense forest appears…
With a resounding SNAP, a blinding flash of pure white light overtakes the vehicle, and with a crash, it falls to the ground. Only now, it’s on the rocky terrain of 65 million years ago. “Perfect landing! Wow, the computer is tracking a lot of dinosaurs around you!” A tiny, falling, flaming fragment strikes the ground, creating a fiery glow that illuminates a frilled, four-legged dinosaur ahead. ‘Styracosaurus,’ the computer chirps. ‘Warning: meteor shower in range.’
“Just little ones, don’t worry!”
Chirp chirp. ‘Alioramus.’ Ahead, a dinosaur had its head down, rustling in a bush. When it raises its head, it’s to swallow a smaller dinosaur.
Chirp chirp. ‘Hadrosaur.’ A mother parasaur and her babies look to the sky as flaming shards rain down through the dense jungle canopy. ‘Raptor.’ It’s ahead on the left, snarling and hissing, his eyes fixated on the nearby baby parasaurs. A trail of light signals that a meteor has struck the Rover, which jolts and tips, regaining traction and swerving forward.
“What was that!?”
Chirp chirp. ‘Meteor hit. Signal malfunction.’ The Rover starts and stops, throwing riders forward and back as it recalibrates before shuffling ahead into the darkness. Autopilot misfires as the Rover overshoots the path and tears through the jungle for a few feet before slamming to a halt. “I’ve got you back!”
Chirp chirp. ‘Carnotaurus.’
In the pitch black darkness, another falling shard hits the ground, illuminating the creature looming over us – a massive, twenty-foot tall carnotaur, its twisted horns and wild eyes glowing as a steaming vent nearby illuminates its lumpy orange skin. It roars and jolts forward as lightning strikes in the distant skies around us. The creature lurches forward, appearing to ram the Rover, which slams sideways. “Hold on!” Seeker cries, “I’m getting you out of there!”
The vehicle rights itself and races off around the corner through the darkness, until it lurches over an unexpected obstacle: the tail of a saltasaurus. Chirp chirp. ‘Sauropod.‘ The Rover glides forward to the face of the 40-foot-long dinosaur (curiously, emerging from a starfield so as not to have to represent its whole body?). “Don’t worry, she’s a vegetarian,” Seeker offers as the saltosaurus groans its breath on us. (This moment, by the way, is the track-layout equivalent of Indy’s suspension bridge.)
‘Asteroid impact in… 90 seconds.’
“Computer, you worry too much!”
As asteroids begin to break and supercharge the atmosphere, the phosphorescent glow illuminates a nest of baby pteradactyls in a clearing ahead. The Time Rover lurches around the nest and forward until the mother cearadactylus returns, swooping down at the vehicle by way of a swinging animatronic. To avoid her, the Rover defaults to the right, where it staggers and twists sideways, sliding down a hillside.
‘Asteroid impact in 60 seconds.‘
The sliding Rover disturbs a nest of tiny, chicken-sized dinosaurs – chirp. ‘Compsognathus’, which leap over the vehicle. (It’s a clever effect, with each dinosaur on an articulating arm that swings over the vehicle, visible only as it passes under a focused glowing light, creating the effective illusion of motion.) The Rover gains traction and lurches ahead, but slams down into a mud pit. It’s just the opportunity the carnotaur needed.
It’s waiting for us ahead, its skin almost bioluminscent in the charged atmosphere. It eyes us. “Four wheel drive! Go!” The Rover accelerates forward and, with a snarl, the carnotour takes off in a full on sprint, launching ahead to intercept our path. It’s one of the most staggering moments in a Disney dark ride, as it swings its head wildly while literally running after us. Though the light fades, we hear the carnotaur growing closer and closer, its snarling breath and pounding footsteps behind us.
Meteors begin to crash to the Earth, with the Rover sliding left and right to avoid them and the charging beast. We can hear as it slams into trees trying to catch us.
Chirp. ‘Power level critical.’ The burst of energy and four-wheel drive has drained the Time Rover, which rumbles, stalls, and settles in the darkness. Out of the blackness, the carnotaur returns. This is it. The massive beast rears back and releases a blood-curdling, horrific, shrieking scream. (This moment – when the attraction’s on-ride photo is taken – is legitimately startling enough to capture true terror, as the beast’s deafening roar is truly alarming.)
As a trembling earthquake begins to rumble the Rover, the distracted carnotaur looks momentarily frightened himself. The Rover springs back to life and jumps forward, leaving the dinosaur in the dust (and presumably, where he’ll be buried and, later, preserved in the Dino Institute’s lobby). The flaming rocks are now striking all around us, shattering trees and illuminating the sky above the canopy in streaks. As the trees crack and fall just over the ride’s path, a massive trunk ahead blocks the only way forward.
But wait… a dinosaur ahead seems to be lifting up the tree to allow the Time Rover to pass beneath. There’s no time left. ‘Iguanodon.‘
“That’s our dino! We’ve got him!” Seeker calls excitedly, as if we’re not seconds from death. The Rover’s computer launches a laser net that’s projected onto the herbivore, apparently bringing him into the Rover’s transport field. Chirp chirp. ‘Asteroid impact in 3… 2…’
“Now you can worry!” Seeker cries. A massive, flaming orange light streams through the treetops overhead, and as the computer’s alarm beeps, the hurtling meteor flashes before our eyes, spinning wildly as it breaks through the treetops heading right toward us. But the Rover races forward and dips down a drop through the darkness. An endless starfield appears around the vehicle as it jumps through a shimmering green laser curtain. Strobes fire randomly, and with a metallic, resounding BOOM, the warm coiled lights of the Time Tunnel return, the vehicle slamming back onto solid ground.
“Good work, team! You made it back! And so did our dino.” The Time Rover glides around the corner and back into the familiar industrial hallways of the Dino Institute’s new wing. Ahead, the Rover aligns with a large mirror (originally installed for a never-implemented Pepper’s Ghost illusion that would’ve shown the iguanodon behind the Rover), as a small CCTV screen reveals the dinosaur wreaking playful havok on the Institute.
‘Time travel complete.’
Time travel commencing…
Countdown to Extinction opened at Disney’s Animal Kingdom with the park on April 22, 1998. Two years later, it closed forever… Well, kinda. On the last page, we’ll dissect what’s happened to Animal Kingdom’s chaotic dark ride and what’s expected next… The story finishes up on the next page.
DINOSAUR
Way back in 1988, Disney had toyed with creating a film (then called Dinosaurs) centered on a syracosaurus named Woot and his struggles against a Tyrannosaurus rex named Gronzi. Filmed with stop-motion animation, Dinosaurs would’ve been gritty and filmed in the style of a nature documentary. In fact, the original script called for Woot to defeat Gronzi, only for both to perish in the Cretaceous-Paleogene mass extinction event. Dinosaurs was sidelined by another project in the pipeline – The Little Mermaid. After Ariel’s 1989 debut, the Disney Renaissance was underway and Dinosaurs was set aside.
But after the success of incorporating computer-generated imagery (CGI) into Fantasia 2000, it was determined that the time was right to press forward with a dinosaur film, albeit using CGI rather than stop motion. A new creative team was brought in to develop a less bleak story and setting for the film. That’s when the iguanodon and the carnotaurus became the main actors as we discussed, making the 1998 ride and the 2000 film natural and intentional complements.
Eisner was right about one thing: Dinosaur was unlike anything seen before. The film melded live-action backgrounds and location shots (mostly filmed in Venezuela) with CGI animated dinosaurs to develop a “photo-realistic” look. Brilliantly, the film’s unprecedented style was expressed by way of a teaser trailer that literally just showed the first five minutes of the film to awe-struck audiences.
What it didn’t reveal was the movie’s plot. Dinosaur follows the migration of a young iguanodon named Aladar who’s orphaned by a devestating meteor shower as he and his adoptive family of lemurs move across the primeval world in search of the Nesting Grounds. Along their epic journey, they’re relentlessly pursued by a carnotaurus.
Another thing the trailer didn’t reveal? Eisner famously insisted that the dinosaurs speak in order to make the film more “commercially viable.” Perhaps famous film critic Roger Ebert put it best when he commented, “An enormous effort had been spent on making these dinosaurs seem real, and then an even greater effort was spent on undermining the illusion.”
From our lofty hindsight perch at the dawn of the 2020s, we know that Dinosaur failed to make much of an impression. The most expensive film released in the year 2000, the film did go on to become a box office success, but likely due to the same, viral, you-gotta-see-it mentality that would later uplift AVATAR, leaving practically no footprint in pop culture whatsoever. Children born after 1998 are unlikely to have ever heard of Dinosaur, much less seen it. And yet, two weeks before the film opened in theaters, Countdown to Extinction re-opened from a refurbishment with a new name and a few changes…
DINOSAUR
On May 1, 2000 – just two weeks before the film’s debut – DINOSAUR opened at Disney’s Animal Kingdom in the spot once occupied by Countdown to Extinction.
Of course, Animal Kingdom’s dino-themed dark ride had always been centered around an iguanodon and a carnotaurus (albeit, neither speaking, and observably not Aladar and his carnotaurus pursuer), but the name change was a clever bit of synergy between Walt Disney Studios and Disney Parks. Outside of the Dino Institute, the styracosaurus fountain was replaced with an iguanodon (though this one may be Aladar?) and footage of the film was inserted into the pre-show to more closely connect the ride.
Inside, the cat-and-mouse game of the carnotaur’s pursuit was re-emphasized as the leading narrative, and as such, the hurtling meteor finale was replaced with a final attack of the carnotaur to close that story. Unfortunately, it comes in the form of one of the most hokey, laughable, and frustratingly unfulfilling forms ever undertaken by Disney: a large, static, blacklight, cartoon-proportioned carnotaur head literally just slides toward guests on a visible rolling rig as they dive beneath it. (Watch for it in the video posted later on on this page.)
Since the ride’s opening, Imagineering had worked to tweak the on-ride audio. Think about it – neither Countdown to Extinction nor DINOSAUR feature any on-ride music (which is actually somewhat odd, even if you wouldn’t expect music 65 million years ago). Instead, Dr. Seeker and the voice of the Time Rover’s computer narrate the journey. Since Countdown to Extinction (and now, DINOSAUR) is a bleak, dark, scary ride by design, the presence of Dr. Seeker was meant not only as narrative exposition to tell us what we’re seeing and why the vehicle is doing what it’s doing, but as comic relief.
That can be tricky. One need only look at another Lost Legend: The ExtraTERRORestrial Alien Encounter to know just how important tone can be, and how easy it is for “comic relief” to sap that tone and pull guests from the moment.
Over the first two years of the ride’s life, careful and fairly continuous edits were made to the narration and audio, with much of the narration ultimately scrapped entirely and re-recorded to be funny, but not distracting; expository, but not annoying; present and helpful, but well-timed between screams and roars.
That’s why the ride today features audio that helps explain what’s happening in the darkness (“Computer, what’s happening?!” Chirp chirp. ‘Loss of traction.’), remind riders of and refocus on the mission (“We’ve got to get in, get that iguanodon, and get out before the asteroid hits!” “Setting Autopilot on homing signal… now!” “Tracking a big dino on the scope; it could be ours!” “Still not our dino…”), and add tension rather than humor (“Forget it! Get them out now!” “You’re not going to make it!”)
But the changes didn’t stop there.
Remember, Disney expected the movie Dinosaur to become a new family classic like Toy Story or A Bug’s Life, so the new connection to the film would mean that the DINOSAUR ride would attract families with younger children – those fascinated with dinosaurs and who would doubtlessly fall in love with the new film. As such, the newly re-christened DINOSAUR ride would need a few edits to welcome younger children.
For one thing, the EMV’s motion was relaxed to create a less jarring ride. Sure, DINOSAUR’s EMVs would still buck, rumble, roll, and shudder, but reduced motion meant that DINOSAUR’s height requirement could be lowered to 40″ (versus Indiana Jones Adventure’s 46″!) to cater to the new family audience that would descend on the ride.
To go along with the new family audience, Disney set out to make subtle changes in audio, lighting, and more that would remove a little of the terror from the ride. One famous example is the scene wherein the carnotaur takes off in a full-body sprint after the Time Rover. Originally, the EMV’s audio would take over from the Animatronic, simulating his approach in the darkness as his pounding footsteps and snarling grew closer and closer as if closing in. After the switch to DINOSAUR, this audio was changed to slowly fade out, giving the impression that the carnotaur was falling behind… just one example of the less overtly terrifying shifts that would make the ride family friendly.
Stop here and watch this point-of-view video of DINOSAUR as it currently exists. As you watch, consider: with a 40″ height requirement, an average five-year-old could ride DINOSAUR… but would they want to? Or would you five-year-old get off of DINOSAUR and be done with Disney’s Animal Kingdom?
That’s the big question, and the answer is that DINOSAUR is still terrifying! Some fans say that, with the shift to DINOSAUR, Disney created the same quagmire it found itself in when Alien Encounter became the Declassified Disaster: Stitch’s Great Escape. Their attempts to decrease the ride’s thrills only served to disappoint thrillseekers, but the ride is still way too scary for kids, meaning the experience isn’t really any “better” for any demographic.
That’s part of why most fans agree that – even if the changes are subtle – Countdown to Extinction was in most quantifiable ways a “better” ride than DINOSAUR is. Of course, the other part of the reason is because of what’s happened to DINOSAUR in the 20 years since…
Layers of dust
Like its big-screen namesake and the ancient animals they’re named for, time hasn’t always been kind to DINOSAUR at Disney’s Animal Kingdom.
Aside from the intentional “plusses” (that some list as “minuses”) that the ride underwent in 2000, upkeep on the attraction has been… well… spotty. A problem with the swooping pterodactyl, for example, meant that the static figure was simply bolted in place, lit by a blacklight (but clearly not moving), as it remains today.
The compsognathus that cleverly “jumped” over the Time Rover by way of swinging arms passing through directed lights stopped moving and again became static figures simply lit in place as if hovering, frozen, over the vehicle. Thankfully, they were replaced by projections after a 2016 refurbishment.
Not only are the ride’s 11 Audio Animatronics a constant source of frustration for fans, but some of the ride’s effects are known to have simply flickered out of existence and gone years without replacement.
In the Time Tunnel, the laser portal stopped working after just a few years, and wasn’t replaced until 2016 when a simpler laser tunnel effect took its place. The Tunnel’s explosive flash meant to literally blind riders for a second to leap between time was discontinued as well. The result is that, now, while entering the Time Tunnel, riders can clearly see the black hallway ahead leading to the jungle and a green laser tunnel being projected from a tree trunk there, removing any sense of being suddenly transported.
Particularly the “return” Time Tunnel tends to be out of sync and thus, visible from the (hokey) finale. That’s a shame, because the combination of “We’re not gonna make it, we’re not gonna make it!,” the drop, the flashing, disorienting strobes, and sudden bass “BOOM” of the Time Tunnel’s oven lights returning is, when correctly timed, one of the most spectacular, goosebumps-inducing moments in any Disney dark ride.
While DINOSAUR always relied on darkness as its delivery method, most observers note that the ride has grown increasingly dark over the years, concealing missing and aging sets, and Audio Animatronics with reduced mobility. Pessimistic? Maybe.
Lost Legend, Modern Marvel, or Declassified Disaster?
When we started our in-depth exploration into Countdown to Extinction and DINOSAUR, we asked you where you thought it belonged in our Legend Collections – a question we’ve never before had to ask!
Is this ride best classified as a Lost Legend – a closed classic, where we ought to be looking back on Countdown to Extinction with memories of its greatness?
Is today’s DINOSAUR a Modern Marvel worth celebrating as one of the most spectacular rides on Earth?
Or is the story of this transition and the ride’s treatment since a textbook example of our Declassified Disasters, whose story should teach us all an important lesson about what not to do? Would DINOSAUR even be a contender for our Disaster series if it weren’t for inevitable comparisons to Disneyland’s Modern Marvel: Indiana Jones Adventure and the too-true fact that – but for the set dressings – Disney’s Animal Kingdom is this close to their own magnificent Indiana Jones ride?
And for that matter, what do you make of the growing rumors that suggest that Disney is toying with the idea of turning all of Dinoland into an Indiana Jones themed South America that would officially close DINOSAUR forever to transform the ride into an Indiana Jones Adventure that it’s so close to being already? We can’t wait to read your thoughts in the comments below.