Disneyland Paris reviews + more
Jeremy
March. For those that want to read it on rrc I'll copy the text below,
otherwise follow the hyperlink to get the official version with photos
and HTML formatting.
http://www.rollercoasterphilosophy.com/2010/jardin-acclimatation/
Jardin d’Acclimatation
Paris, France – Saturday, March 20th, 2010
Before flying across the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, I secretly
believed that somehow being in Europe would feel different. Not just
in differences in the surroundings, customs, food or even the
language. If I were to close my eyes while in Europe, there would
still be some mysterious, indescribable energy coursing through the
fabric of existence that would make that immediate sensation different
than if I were still back home in North America. A split-second’s
logical reflection on this idea would of course render it ridiculous
to consider, but it was hard not to look at a map of the world and,
upon realizing just how incalculably massive a distance I’d be from
anywhere I had ever been before, to think for just a little bit that
perhaps there’d be a slight change in the average spin directionality
of an electron, or a minor disturbance in the in the otherwise uniform
Higgs field that permeates the universe. Being told ad nauseam by my
university’s Office of Study Abroad about the massive cultural changes
I’d experience most likely didn’t help to assuage those feelings, even
though it was pretty obvious they just wanted to stress the point that
they don’t want the student population getting blacked-out drunk on
the streets every weekend like they would in the states, especially
considering for most of them, a semester abroad is basically
equivalent to a four month long party.
After living in Rome for a little over two months, those feelings have
mostly all been dispelled. From the big perspective, I’m still in the
western capitalistic world, and although there might be plenty of
‘little differences’, those smallest differences are still exactly the
same. The cracks in the sidewalk or the rustling of leaves in the
trees, the feeling of a breath of fresh air or the taste of a cheap
but decent meal after five hours of walking, and those little ‘ticks’
you can observe people do when they don’t have cultural norms to tell
them exactly how to use hand gestures or carry themselves as they
walk. For me, it’s that big picture mixed with all those tiniest of
details that are most fundamental to understanding reality, the stuff
in between are incidental novelty interests more than anything else.
Perhaps it helps considerably that I already was incredibly awkward
and unsure of what cultural expectations were in the United States, so
coming to Europe and finding myself in the exact same situation
allowed me to feel right at home. Unsurprisingly, it was the language
barriers that would be the biggest problems, and for rather obvious
reasons: not being able to properly ask the shop owner a question or
figure out what that important-looking sign reads have their
drawbacks, although it is interesting to note just how much is
communicated through body language and vocal intonations that even
when there is no one around to help translate, most of the basic ideas
are still able to get across. Perhaps I was just getting too used to
Italy and needed to throw myself into another country with a complex
itinerary and little time to adjust before moving on all while
depending only on the contents of my backpack and my own personal
resourcefulness, completely on my own for a week and a half. With
that, on Friday, March 19th, 2010, I finished packing my last set of
socks into my backpack, slipped my iPod into my coat pocket, double
checked my first day’s itinerary, and left my apartment to catch the
next train to Rome Fiumicino airport for a 6:00pm direct flight to
Paris, France. And so began the adventure…
I arrived in Paris Orly around 8:00, and proceeded to the airport
shuttle that would take me to the Paris Metro where I’d get off at
Gare du Nord train station, only a short walk from the hostel I had
booked for my first two nights. The Sacre Coeur was only a five minute
walk away (or at least that was what I was told, the area looked
pretty flat and devoid of major Parisian landmarks to me), but since
it was raining out and the dome wouldn’t be open at that hour anyway I
figured my best bet was to save all my sightseeing for tomorrow and
just check into my hostel and find a decent place to eat. I found my
room, which was extremely small, barely enough room for the four beds
and a small table, but it included a small shower room with a sink and
I was the first one there so I got free pick of the beds for the
night. Not five minutes later, two of my roommates also arrived. They
were cousins about my age visiting Paris together, he from Germany and
she from Argentina (regretfully I can’t recall their names). After
introductions I found out they needed to find dinner as well, so we
ventured off together to find something to eat. Several locations
seemed promising, but they were either closing for the night or were
far too expensive. We ended up at a kebab stand which was cheap and
seemed to offer decent portions for the money. Plus the meal came with
French fries, so I was on the right track for sampling the local
cuisine, right?
The next morning I headed off on my own a little before 9:00am to be
at the Sacre Coeur right in time for the opening of the dome, and
because I didn’t want to run out of time there before a tour I
scheduled started at 11 at the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was indeed
a short walk from the hostel, and much to my delight I found the area
was still relatively quiet with only a small scattering of tourists
standing around. However I soon discovered one major drawback to
arriving this early; as a lone American student traveler, I became too
easy of a target for the group of scam artists preying on unknowing
tourists near this point of interest. The basic response to this is
whenever I’m approached on the street, just keep walking without any
acknowledgment. I got through most of them but just as I was in the
clear, one of them, in a very friendly and conversational tone, got
right in my path to welcome me to the city and introduce himself. I
tried to step around but he insisted I listen to what he had to say
for just a moment, so I gave in and let him talk. Instead he asked for
my right hand to give me a small bracelet. Ah, so this guy is with a
charity. I asked who he was with, but instead he kept the conversation
going as he wound the bracelet, asking where I was from and if I was
enjoying Paris. He told me how he was from Africa and Paris welcomes
people from all over the world, whether from Michigan, Europe, Asia or
Africa, and to remember the poor people in Africa as I toured to
world; and perhaps I should one day visit there. Okay, so is there
going to be a request for a donation at the end or is this just a
general awareness pitch? I tried to get him to specify exactly what
charity he was with but he avoided the question, and as he finished
the bracelet he told me to make a wish, and as long as I kept it on
and didn’t tell anyone my wish, it would come true. I quickly thought
of something so this wouldn’t waste any more time (I wished that none
of the coasters I was planning on riding over the next week and a half
would be shut down; I can say it now since it didn’t come true
anyway), and hoped we were now finished. ‘That’ll be…’ and he mumbled
some price I couldn’t make out. Oh. I get it now. Fine he was nice
enough and I still figured there was some charity involved so I could
maybe spare the two or three euros he changed, agitated he didn’t
inform me of this before the transaction. I pulled out my wallet to
reach for a coin, and he pointed at some of the €50 bills I had in my
wallet. Uh, what? “Just give me one of those and I can give you back a
€20”. So it wasn’t €3 I heard but 30. No. Fucking. Way. That actually
ended up being his biggest mistake; the whole pitch up to that point
was very cleverly crafted, using many of the formal persuasive
techniques taught in my Intro to Logic class. But he messed up in his
application of the “door in the face technique”, because he presented
me with no alternative besides insisting on the €30 for a piece of
string. The fact that I couldn’t easily give it back meant I was stuck
paying something to get out of the situation, and I gave him a €2 coin
and told him that was all I could afford, and then asserted I had to
be on my way. Twenty seconds later I realized I shouldn’t have given
him anything since I had still been under the impression there was
some charity involved, but whatever, €2 would be quite marginal in the
grand scheme of the week’s expenses.
Just to run through the rest of the sightseeing activities of the
morning and afternoon before getting to the roller coaster part of
this report, the Sacre Coeur still ended up being well worth it. It’s
free to have a look around the main church area, and the €5 fee to go
up the tower offers such incredible views of the city that a trip up
the Eiffel Tower would be nearly redundant. Okay, so maybe it’s still
a good idea to say you’ve been to the Eiffel Tower while you’re in
Paris, but the advantage of the Sacre Coeur was there were no lines or
any other crowds up there. Incredible way to start the day, being able
to see the entire city laid out in front of you. Here’s a small
collection of photos taken from the top:
While I’m not sure if I would say Paris or Rome is the nicer city to
visit, the one area that Paris has Rome beat hands down in their Metro
system. Rome consists of only two lines forming a giant X across the
city, while Paris consists of some 273 x 10^62 different lines, with a
station positioned at pretty much every other block in the city. This
ended up being extremely useful in getting from the Sacre Coeur to the
Eiffel Tower, and as a result I had a bit of time to take pictures
while I waited for my bicycle tour to start. The tour was nice and
professionally run, although I do think perhaps for my purposes (as a
lone American philosophy student armed with only a digital camera and
several changes of batteries) I should have chosen something that
allowed more time to take pictures and listen to a lengthy narrative
from the guide rather than ride around on bicycle from place to place
only stopping at the front of the occasional important landmark. A lot
of ground was covered which is what I needed since I had only one day
to see the city before moving on to Disneyland, and that had to
include fitting in a stop to Jardin d’Acclimatation later in the day;
plus it included a group lunch break which I needed since I can never
decide on a place to eat if I’m traveling just by myself.
I do regret that my plans never allowed me time to actually go into
the Louvre or any other of the Parisian art museums, but my plan had
always been from the start of the trip to get only a ‘taste’ of Paris
so I’d be sure to return someday… and I will open admit here my main
motivation for returning is to visit Parc Astérix and Parc Saint Paul
when they’re not closed, especially since the first is rumored to
finally get a major new steel coaster in 2011. That said, I do realize
what I’m missing out on, and look forward to that return visit when I
can walk up to a renaissance masterwork and experience that ubiquitous
aesthetic experience among tourists where one is so moved by the power
of the artwork that they can only think, “wow, I bet that painting is
really famous!” (Of course I’m not really that cynical, as I’m aware
that there are many other visitors that will actually understand the
art, and that when they see it are emotionally overpowered by the
realization, “wow, I bet that painting is worth a lot of money!” Hey,
at least when I visit a foreign city I’m honest with myself over what
I personally want to see and will genuinely appreciate, even if it’s a
run-down local theme park.)
After the bike tour I hopped on the Metro and took it to the stop
nearest Le Jardin d’Acclimatation, arriving a little after 3:00 that
afternoon. For those not aware of what “Jardin d’Acclimatation” is,
it’s a gated gardens area very close to the main city center, dating
back from the mid-1800’s and has since acquired a moderate collection
of family amusement rides including three small (but unique) roller
coasters. Admission is less than €3, although you have to pay
individually for each ride. I was a little bit let down when I first
walked in, as I had been expecting a much more elaborate botanical
gardens with a few rides integrated between the displays, but instead
it was a bit better described as just a pleasant, tranquil, European
style parkground with a few garden and animal exhibits and most of the
rides concentrated in a somewhat cheap, carnivalesque corner of the
park… complete with your standard, small European park Disney IP knock-
off attraction. It was a good place to visit and spend an hour or two,
and was unlike anything I’ve come across in the US (amusement parks
are meant to amuse us with bright colors and loud noises!), and would
recommend it to anyone visiting Paris.
It took me a little while to figure out where to buy my ride tickets
since they weren’t sold at the main gates nor at the entrances of the
rides themselves (turned out it was at the window of a themed strip of
buildings along the back of the rides sections), but after I purchased
five I made my first ride of the trip the Tacot Express. This is an
interesting little powered coaster from Soquet, and is generally what
I’d like to see more out of children’s coasters. The layout starts
lower to the ground and uses the powered mechanisms to gradually climb
upward as it makes its way around the figure-8 design. After the third
curve the train takes a sudden dive down into an unforeseen
underground tunnel that provides a surprising jolt for those in the
back. The train speeds through the tunnel and then up and around the
last curve, where we are then treated to a second circuit.
This was the first of two Soquet powered coasters I got to ride at le
Jardin d’Acclimatation, the second being the Dragon, located much
farther back in the park away from the rest of the rides and near a
small swan pond. I was surprised to find out after my visit that this
one preceded the Tacot Express by nearly 14 years; there wasn’t that
much discernible difference between the two to me, and they kept it
very well maintained with a fresh coat of paint. Placed over some
Asian-inspired fountains and gardens, and with a very well-crafted
dragon’s head at the lead of the train, while it lacked the surprise
tunnel drop of the Tacot Express it wasn’t any less of a coaster. Like
Tacot, this one has a double out-and-back/figure-8 that uses the
powered mechanism to gradually work up enough potential energy to end
with a decent sized drop best experienced in the back row before
looping around for another circuit. Again, I really wish more
children’s coasters could be designed like this, with an actual aire
of class about it rather than just being some compact circular little
thing with nothing but moguls for a layout and bright colors with an
insipid theme.
The last coaster was their biggest, and unfortunately that meant it
was the only ride in the park that required two tickets instead of
just one. The Papillons d’Alice is a custom-designed Reverchon Jr.
Spinning coaster, but the distinction between this and the full-sized
version is a bit hard to tell. The lack of any large drops is the main
distinguishing characteristic and the cars are a touch more snug, but
compared to the regular production models the lift is about as tall
and the ride lasts as long, and as I mentioned this is also an
original layout designed exclusively for the park so it gains bonus
points for that. With all of that said, it’s probably as well that
they didn’t manufacture any more of these because without any large
drops and just a series of switchback curves with an occasional dip
and the spinning cars, it felt a little more like a flat ride
experience than a coaster. But a decent attraction and well-suited for
the park, I still have to wonder why a ride themed to “the Butterflies
of Alice” has two large eyes with thick black eyebrows pasted on the
front of the cars.
Having gone through four tickets to do each of the coasters, I decided
to use my last ticket on La Rivière Enchantée, a small flume
attraction. There are no drops, no water effects or special scene
objects to look at, just a six minute leisurely ride around trees,
ponds and the gardens (I noticed a unique species of duck inhabiting
the same natural lagoon basin the ride floated around). Where else but
in Europe? For some reason there was no one around interested in
taking my ticket from me, so I got off with my last ticket still in
hand, and decided to spend it on this Kangaroo-like flat spinning
attraction they had. Nice pops of air at the top but I wish the ride
cycle wasn’t so long since this was one of those that it’s easy to
start feeling sick on.
Somehow the two hours I was there managed to pass me by in what felt
like no time, so I figured it was time to get a move on and explore
the rest of the city for the night. Rather than take a Metro I took a
long walk down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées (which includes the Arc
de Triomphe), taking side routes whenever anything appeared of
interest. I needed to stop by the Disney Store while I was there to
pick up my three-day park hopper for the next day (apparently they
offer the best discounts there, so if you’re planning on visiting
Disneyland, you’re best off stopping by Paris beforehand to pick up
your tickets there). For some reason their ticket window wasn’t
staffed that evening, and the sign directed me to go to the Virgin
Megastore next door to pick up tickets instead, which I did. Their
current offer was €107 for the three day / two park pass, which
considering how I hear about the American parks charging over $80 for
a one day pass to one of their properties I’d say is a reasonable
price.
As the sun began to set I made my way to the meeting point for the
second tour of the day I signed up for, a ghost story walk. As it
happened I was one of only three people on the tour, and barely ten
minutes after it started a steady rainfall began and lasted for nearly
an entire hour. I was hoping the tour would involve actually entering
some of the buildings, but unfortunately we just stood outside them in
the wet while the guide regaled us of some ghastly happening, not that
I could really remember many of them as the weather was a bit of a
distraction. When it was over I was thoroughly soaked through to the
bone and needed to get back to the hostel to change into dry clothes
and take a long, hot shower. Of course, being a hostel in Europe, the
words “long” and “hot” can’t really be associated with that of
“shower”, but by that point any form of refreshment felt good. My
roommates from the previous night had moved on, but they weren’t
replaced by anyone else so of the four beds two were left unoccupied,
the fourth in use by an older Spanish lady who appeared to have been
in bed for a while when I first got in and still sound asleep when I
left the next morning for my first day at Disneyland Paris.
Jeremy
Disneyland Paris (Part 1)
Marne la Vallée, France – Sunday, March 21st, 2010
Here I am, trapped inside my own body, my own mind, my own solipsistic
little universe, where the only thing I can know for certain is that I
exist; the external reality I think I am observing this moment is
confusing, deceitful and potentially non-existent. And yet from those
petty powers of internal logic it’s become indisputable that only that
external material world that exists in any true capacity, meaning that
even my own brain, my conception of self and personal identity, are
nothing more than a complex assembly of lifeless, meaningless quantum
bits and pieces, trapped without free-will in a chain of causal
relations within space and time that can be traced back to the
beginning of the universe with no hope for an exit or an answer. What
an awful contradiction that is! Since I’m probably going to be
wallowing in nihilistic despair for the next little while, I figure
there’s no better place to contemplate the empty nothingness of
existence than in the place that gave us Sartre and Camus.
That’s right, I’m going to Disneyland Paris.
I’ve never been to a Disney park before. I’ve simply never had any
real interest. Part of it might just be because I’m outside of their
target market, and without having been there earlier in my life, the
sound of “it’s a small world” repeated endlessly doesn’t conjure happy
childhood memories but teeth-grating annoyance. “The Happiest Place on
Earth”? Come on, how can they advertise happiness like that, it’s not
a commodity. The feeling I have is that Disney represents the backbone
of a very shallow, materialistic view of human happiness that I want
to avoid like the plague. It might also be political. The idea of
giving money to a corporation as monolithic and as culturally
imperialistic as Disney seems like a wrong use of my limited financial
resources (and yes, I am using ‘wrong’ in the moral sense of the
term). It could also just be that I perceive Disney as being too much
fluff with not enough substance; sprawling, intricately themed
sections consisting of all spectacles and gift shops, and then with
only one or two real attractions actually worth paying admission for.
But I had a week off for spring break while studying in Rome, and
after looking over my options for where I could travel during that
week, Disney was one of the few that presented itself as even being
open during the week. As soon as I decided on Paris/Disney to spend my
time, I immediately jumped onto Parc Astérix’s website to see if I
could visit there as well. They were not. Aw. “Honestly, if I could
have a free choice between visiting Disneyland Paris and visiting Parc
Astérix, I’d pick Astérix”. But as I said that, I stopped.
Really? Really, really? What does Parc Astérix actually have that’s of
interest to me that Disneyland doesn’t? Tonnerre de Zeus, a middling
CCI effort, and that’s it. After that all they have is Goudurix, and
if I want to ride a Vekoma MK-1200 then Disney has two of those, both
themed and with more original layouts (and they’re not rated at the
bottom of the Internet Steel Coaster Poll every year either). There’s
two more themed family coasters which I could also get done much
better at Disney. Not that I couldn’t still argue that Parc Astérix is
maybe the superior park depending on the criteria you use to define
the comparison, but my automatic preference of any standard amusement
park over a Disney park without even weighing the pros and cons of
each made me realize something: I had become irrationally prejudiced
against anything Disney.
And so, on Sunday, March 21st, in the year two-thousand-ten, Anno
Domini, with ticket clutched in palm and a walk of mild apprehension,
I emerged through the gates of Disneyland Paris– and I was going to do
my best to enjoy myself. Was I successful? We shall see…
The day started off rather cold and overcast. I made my way down Main
Street U.S.A. quickly thanks to the lack of anything interesting to
divert my attention. It seemed my first reservation about visiting a
Disney park was coming true: is there anything to actually do that
doesn’t involve buying Mickey Mouse ears in different themed gift
shops? I trust the American versions of Main Street U.S.A. have a bit
more going for them since they don’t have the advantage of being in a
country where this style of themeing is a bit foreign and exciting to
the local population, but based on what I’ve seen I’m not so sure. The
street cars weren’t anywhere to be seen, not that I’d really count
public transport as a destination attraction anyway. It is an
impressively constructed entry midway, although for a theme park that
emphasizes the spectacle of fantasy it was a curious choice for the
opening section to be given such a mundane and ordinary setting.
That’s not to say it’s without purpose, since the original was meant
to evoke the childhood hometown that Walt Disney grew up in. So it’s
not only mundane, but also egocentric.
No! Bad coaster philosopher! I promised myself I’d check my cynicism
at the main gates, and look at what I’m doing barely five minutes into
the park. I should try to enjoy the full day’s experience free of any
prejudices and only after it’s over can I be allowed to start applying
my usual critical analysis. Okay, so I’m at the end of Main Street USA
and my plan is to go left to make Big Thunder Mountain my official
first Disney roller coaster, which I’ve heard good things about. But I
forgot to pick up a park map at the front gate, so I stop at a small
info point to pick one up and notice a handy list of wait times for
attractions throughout the park, Big Thunder listed as having nearly
an hour long wait. Just below it I see the Indiana Jones coaster is
posting less than 10 minutes, so I figure a change in plans to stop
through Frontierland quickly to pick up a fast pass for Big Thunder,
then move onto explore Adventureland.
So, first ride to review: Indiana Jones et le Temple du Péril. As
promised, there was barely a five minute wait for this attraction. I
suspect this probably was a bad choice to make my inaugural Disney
experience, but it may have ultimately been for the best, being the
single attraction in the park with strong roots in the traditional
amusement park attraction milieu. For reasons beyond any rational
comprehension, Disney asked Intamin to design for them a Pinfari
Looping Star rip-off, complete with coffin-like ride vehicles, which
they could then somehow theme to the Indiana Jones franchise. The
themeing is almost impressive in places, but then I realized they
didn’t touch the lattice support structures besides integrating some
basic temple structures inside the turns (rather than obscure them),
and the whole thing does come off as a cheap theme park attraction. I
got placed in the front seat, the trains quickly hurried out of the
dual loading station, and after a slight pause on the block just
around the first station turn to wait for the previous train to clear
the lift, we were off up to the top.
A slow curve at the top lead into one small dip, leading into a second
slightly-less-slow flat turn before another quick dip. The ride has a
reputation for being a real headbanger, and given the configuration of
the cars it’s not hard to see why, but I’m not having any real
problems so far. After a third flat turn there’s a long straight
stretch of track with a small block at the end, feeding a spiraling
drop feeding directly into a 360 loop. This is actually rather intense
(likely due to the nearly circular shaping), the positives around the
loop really start to distort my perception, and the whole lead-up to
this moment does an adequate job at crafting anticipation. Afterward
the ride is more or less a dud as it tools around with some pointless
hills and a few helices that start to build to something before giving
up. By the last turn when the train enters the brakes I’m thinking
that wasn’t mind-bending, but it seemed a reliable little coaster ride
I could do whenever I got bored with the show attractions and the
other two in the park had too long of lines; I even took the time to
get an immediate re-ride while I was there as the wait was even
shorter when I got back. Does anyone have any feedback on how this
ride was when it was configured to run in reverse? I remember watching
a television special on this one a while ago about how when they
reversed the cars from 2000 to 2004 they had to redesign the themed
edifices so that way riders couldn’t see any of the backstage. My
question is: where? The train doesn’t actually travel through any
sets, like I said there’s just some basic structures built in and
around the coaster but otherwise they’ve still left the ride system
mostly exposed. Later when I came back to this attraction I was even
less impressed; at first not having a point of context with other
Disney rides made me an easier judge, which is why I said it was
perhaps a good thing I made this my first ride of the day.
Wandering back to Frontierland, I still had plenty of extra time left
on my fast pass so I decided to see what else this themed section has.
One of the other main attractions of interest to me was Phantom Manor,
the park’s western-inspired take on the classic Haunted Mansion dark
ride. The wait for this one was less than 20 minutes, and it moved
fast. I was a bit disappointed to find that the queue was housed in a
basic switchback structure under a canopy not unlike what I’d find at
a standard theme park, but once inside the manor things became more
interesting. As a group we were led into a small anteroom, where the
attendant’s real performance was in juggling both French and English
during the introduction while trying to stay in character. At first I
didn’t think too much of this room (is this really supposed to be the
extreme attention to detail I hear about from Disney? They just
duplicated the same basic construction materials on each side of the
wall), but then the preshow started up and… it was an interesting
effect to say the least. I’m generally not one to care about spoilers
that much, but the impression of this preshow was due largely to my
not expecting it, so I’ll leave that as one of the few mysteries for
other readers to discover (not that a quick search on Wikipedia
couldn’t reveal the effect for anyone instead). Another caveat to
these preshows is everyone in line gets mixed up in the same room
before exiting it again to board the ride vehicles, so if you just
managed to be one of the last ones to be let in, you can probably edge
your way along toward the exit door during the show and effectively
line jump fifty people or so. Not that I’m recommending that as at all
ethical behavior.
Another small corridor past several ‘illusory’ paintings (using the
same technology any child with a special edition bubble gum card
should be familiar with) we arrive at the vehicle loading platform.
It’s a continuously moving chain of vehicles (Wikipedia also tells me
these are officially called “Doom Buggies”), which is both practical
from a capacity standpoint but a bit disappointing from a ride quality
standpoint; besides there constantly being other vehicles around you
that occasionally obstruct your view, it means that there can’t be any
set pieces that individually convey some sort narrative directly to
the riders (i.e. even simple things such as entering a dark room in
which a ghost suddenly jumps out at you), it must consist entirely of
moving past scenes that are on a continuous loop so every vehicle
experiences the same thing. Resultantly, Phantom Manor really can’t be
‘scary’ or even ’suspenseful’, only convey a sense of atmosphere and
setting. But okay; F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu or Stanley Kubrick’s The
Shining adhered to those same principles, and those are possibly two
of the greatest horror films ever committed to celluloid.
Honestly I can’t remember the sequence of every effect in Phantom
Manor, nor do I recall the precise sequence as being particularly
important. There’s a loose story involving a bride, who we see at the
beginning as an animatronic happily singing, but then some sort of
tragedy befalls her as spirits take over the Manor, and by the end she
becomes a living corpse, which is the sort of conclusion you’d expect
from a ride called Phantom Manor, so not much dialogue is needed to
explain this connection. Toward the end we are also randomly taken
through a wild west ghost town scene which I’m not sure how it really
fits in with the rest of the ride besides to establish it as being the
Frontierland version of the Haunted Mansion. The main interest is in
marveling at the technological special effects wizardry at work in
there. I already mentioned the preshow room, but with the numerous
holograms (crystal ball, ride-a-long ghosts, and the famous ballroom
scene literally had me leaning over the ride vehicle to try to figure
out how the heck they did that) I was quite impressed. That said, I
feel that these effects actually compromised the establishment of any
foreboding sense of atmosphere the ride should achieve. With so much
happening at every corner that commands a moment’s attention, I felt
busy and overworked to make sure I could see everything I was supposed
to rather than given an opportunity to sit back and revel in the Grand
Guignol suspense. That is, there are so many details rendering it
impossible to appreciate the larger picture. I can clearly see why
these Disney attractions inspire such huge fanbases, but for me
personally, Nights in White Satin: The Trip will remain near and dear
to my heart.
Still with a bit more time to spare before Big Thunder Mountain was
up, I hopped on the Thunder Mesa Riverboat Landing to see what there
was to see around the Frontierland lagoon. The answer: Big Thunder
Mountain from all angels, and that’s pretty much all. They did a nice
job filling the surrounding landscape with North American scenery,
although it didn’t occur to me until nearly halfway through the cruise
how ‘exotic’ this landscape might appear to a Parisian. I believe
there was supposed to be a geyser show near the end of the ride that
was also not functioning on my day there. It’s a nice riverboat
replica they have built, but I couldn’t help but feel that the whole
excursion was ultimately lacking any real purpose other than as an
extended photo opportunity. They also do a good job masking the fact
that it rolls along on an underwater track, but it’s still rather
obvious if you think about it and that still removed the ride a bit of
its authenticity.
Finally, my scheduled return time for Big Thunder Mountain was ready.
I picked up another fast pass which was now available and found the
entrance to the attraction. With dual stations and a blocking setup
capable of handling five 30-passenger trains at a single time, I was
loaded into my back seat ride with efficient timing. Taking off from
the station we quickly accelerate downhill, underneath the lake to
arrive at the first lift hill, enclosed in a large cavern filled with
plaster stalagmites and stalactites. We exit this chamber at the top
and make a descending left turn. The first part of the layout is
rather awkward, meandering from one edge of the mountain and then
back, lots of straight track with small kinks in them to navigate
around the scenery. My suspicion is that the mountain was designed as
the first priority, the placement of the lifts second, and the track
was built to fit between those elements most effortlessly. Banking
transitions and the overall geometry to the trackwork also suggests a
ride much older than one built in 1992, with hard, non-heartlined
prebanks leading from circular flat curves and lots of straight track
separating these individual maneuvers, but it’s fitting for the style
of ride and gives it more character than the more recent approach to
mine trains built by Vekoma. It maintains a mostly downhill route,
dodging under an opossum hanging from a tree, before diving to a river
splashdown (minus the splash) and with the grind of a set of anti-
rollbacks the train rolls around a left turn to engage the second
lifthill.
This one takes place all outdoors, with a few anamatronic mules and
other critters providing something to look at as we wait for the ride
to start up again. I will reiterate this point: the anti-rollbacks are
loud, especially at the top of the lift. Not quite Son of Beast loud,
but they might be a runner-up for that contention. I would figure this
would be something Disney would want to silence but evidently not. Off
the top of this second (and I believe tallest) lift we have another
descending left turn, and after some more angular hill transitions is
followed up with a counter-clockwise 540° helix. It bucks up, dives
down for a nice headchopper effect with a canyon tunnel, and makes a
right turn over the lake into another mine shaft to engage in lift
number three, which simulates a dynamite explosion with the track even
tilting back and forth slightly as the train climbs upward (not too
much that the chain dog would disengage with the chain, obviously).
So far it’s had an odd pacing structure– pause for a lift, roll mostly
downhill with a syncopated stop-start collection of quick turns and
drops while it gets halfway there with the speed gained, before
stopping for another lift. It’s probably more a necessity of running
this many trains when a lifthill block is needed every 30 seconds or
so, and consequently the height differences can’t be too great either.
However, this final part is where the ride starts to pay off. The
second section was just a bit more intense and involved than the
first, and with this section it takes that formula of slight downhill
with a lot of odd turns and dips thrown in, cuts out the excess hops
and helices diversions, and makes it just one long, continuous
descent, first down a left turn, accumulating a decent amount of speed
on the runway, then with a final quick scoot to the left it enter the
final tunnel. After a quick bat scene, everything turns pitch black,
our cars angle even steeper downhill, the air temperature suddenly
dropping, and we just keep going down… and down… and down…
Holy crap, this is actually kind of awesome!
The first time through especially, this drop really grabbed hold and
shook me hard, and it remained a great highlight no matter how many
more times I ventured on board. At maximum speed under the lake,
there’s a fast, sharply banked left turn in the pitch black. An uphill
climb returns us to the surface level back on the mainland, the anti-
rollbacks again grinding with a small lift giving the long train
enough momentum to get up into the final brake run. We make the bend
around a small turn, and I exit the station, actually impressed by Big
Thunder Mountain.
To throw a bit of criticism into the pot (c’mon, no ride gets away
from me that easily), I do feel like the animatronics and other show
effects along the layout don’t add much to the ride experience. Like
Phantom Manor, the excessive attention to detail by putting if
anything serves to distract rather than add to the experience, and
while the animatronics are well-crafted, being still obviously fake
they only highlight the artificiality of the entire experience (oops,
I’m getting ahead of myself, that’s a discussion for another time…)
Also, as much as I enjoyed Big Thunder Mountain in Paris, I’m unsure
what my reaction would be to its counterparts on different continents.
The thing that really made the ride for me was the finale with the
long drop underneath the lake, which put into context the rest of the
ride which was not much more than gentle meandering downhill. This
gave the overall experience a narrative that would cycle through
building and releasing tension several times before ending it with the
continuous downhill climax after the third lift, but without that last
section I’m not sure how I’d reinterpret the ride. And none of the
other versions have that finale, although I’ve not seen POVs of them
so I don’t know what they have in place. Regardless, every other
review I’ve read has nearly unanimously expressed the opinion that the
Paris version is by far the best, so as much as I enjoyed this Big
Thunder Mountain, my motivation to check out the others isn’t much
improved from before.
After Big Thunder Mountain, I went on to explore the rest of the park,
sampling other E-Ticket attractions Pirates of the Caribbean and Space
Mountain, but since I have a second day at Disneyland Paris to report
on I will save detailed reviews of those until then. A couple of other
minor rides I did try this first day included Peter Pan’s Flight in
Fantasyland, which is basically a retelling of the movie in a dark
ride set-up (this one with some nifty suspended cars that allow us to
‘fly’ over a miniature London). However, as dark rides aren’t that
adept at communicating narratives of any particular depth, I suspect
the ride banks heavily on the expectation that those that ride it are
already familiar with the story. But if that’s the case, why the need
to just repeat the same thing only in five minutes and without
dialogue or characterization? I could give an answer to that, but I
promised myself I would just enjoy the park without any cynical
analysis of the corporate Disney Empire and I’m going to continue with
that trend until I’m outside the gates in the last part of this series
of reports.
Over in Discoveryland were attractions such as Les Mystères du
Nautilus and Star Tours, both of which I rate with a resounding “meh”.
In particular the Nautilus attraction was a low point; supposedly it
should be an underwater tour, but as far as I could tell it might have
well taken place in a set in someone’s garage as there were no
portholes with the outside environment save for maybe one with a squid
anamatronic, which was easily the highlight of the entire attraction.
The rest was just narrow corridors with occasional science-fiction
props inspired by 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and while it might
have made a decent queue line for some other attraction, by itself I
just had to ask “what’s the point”? Thankfully since it’s just a walk-
through attraction there’s no line for it. Star Tours was slightly
better, but then I’ve never been a fan of rides that lock you in a box
with a video screen at the front and bounce you around for a few
minutes under the pretense that they’re telling a ‘story’. It starts
out as a supposed tour of the Star Wars universe, but very quickly
veers off into that all-too familiar theme park narrative of
“something has gone horribly wrong which we’ll use as an excuse to set
the ride’s program to ‘paint mixer’ for several minutes”. We quickly
recapitulate the ending of Episode IV (only again, without the
dialogue or characterization), and then return back to the base. A
live-action droid in front of the ship provided commentary during the
tour, but this was all in French so I couldn’t very well keep up.
But honestly I think riding it in English would be even less rewarding
because that was by far one of the most interesting things I found at
Disneyland Paris that made my visit worthwhile: the difference in
cultures. I’m not just talking about being in a different culture; if
I wanted that I was about 30 miles too far east. It was observing the
way Disney tried to manage the fact that they were attracting a
clientele that spoke many different languages in a way not really
found at other amusement parks, if anywhere. It’s not even a case like
in the city, where obviously French is the dominant language but
plenty accommodations are available for foreign tourists. At Disney,
everyone was on equal ground. We were all tourists visiting someplace
that was not quite home (for the French, it was an Anglo-American
experience, for the Brits, it was a French experience) demanding that
the park adjust to their own culture while at the same time marveling
at the foreign ‘otherness’ of the experience. It wasn’t just the
French-English contrast either, plenty of German, Spanish and Italians
were also present, which made for some decently interesting people-
watching in the queues.
The rides are generally designed for both French and English speakers
but then sometimes there would be odd choices over which language
became the dominating one: some were evenly split between French and
English whenever there was a script in part of the ride, some leaned
heavily towards French (Star Tours or Indiana Jones, despite being
based on English-language franchises) while others seemed to favor
English when they had themes that should have been language-neutral.
Hearing the French guests attempt to pronounce “Space Mountain” or
“Big Thunder Mountain” all day, I had to wonder if they actually knew
what these names translate to. Actually, considering that the French
term for “Roller Coaster” literally translates to “Russian Mountain”,
the naming of the Disney coasters could probably make even more sense
in Paris than it does in Orlando or Anaheim, if only Disney had given
them monikers in the local language. I do appreciate that in locations
such as Frontierland or Main Street USA, most of the themed signs and
props were as they would appear in English rather than unrealistically
translated into French; that always bothers me in movies or theme
parks where everything’s in English even though they’re pretending
it’s not, and I expect the same going the other direction.
(Ratatouille, anyone? I was in Vienna later this week so I’ll list
Amadeus is another major offender, to the point that it almost ruined
my enjoyment of what otherwise would have been a great movie.
Hopefully after the success Inglourious Basterds more directors will
be conscious of this stuff.)
However, it was the employees where this melding of cultures became
most intriguing (“cast members” is the official name for them, but I’m
not going to call them that, c’mon, they’re just employees like
anywhere else). Most of the major themed attractions generally
involved giving some sort of live performance to introduce guests to
the ride and remind them of the safety procedures, but with no common
language among the participates, they had to do an incredible job
juggling between French and English in a timely and efficient manner…
all while staying in character as if it were a single monologue. It
was nice for me because it meant I could take a break from constantly
having to ask “English?” before asking a question or placing an order,
although I do feel bad for the employees that they have to be always
conscious of this during their daily jobs. Shortly after I got back I
read this news story on how a string of Disneyland Paris employees
were committing suicide rather than face work, and while it’s horrible
to read, part of me is also not all that surprised. Coming full circle
to my opening paragraph, it appears Albert Camus may have been correct
when he stated the first and most important question anyone should ask
of themselves is (and I’m paraphrasing), “should I kill myself, or
ride Big Thunder Mountain?”
Jeremy
Walt Disney Studios Park
Marne la Vallée, France – Monday, March 22nd, 2010
If I was unsure what my reaction to Disneyland Paris the previous day
would be, I was even less sure of what I’d think of the Walt Disney
Studios Park located next door. Disneyland Park at least was
universally well-reviewed, it was just a question of whether I’d ‘get’
that whole Disney mindset. The Studios park, on the other hand, I had
heard some – if not bad – at least tepid things about, that it lacked
enough things to do or its own identity, or was just sort of thrown
together to give the Disneyland Paris complex a marketing boost after
it failed to live up to expectations in its first few years. The big
difference is Disneyland Park is themed to fantastic worlds of the
imagination, while the Studios Park is themed to movie warehouses.
How’s that fair?
My hotel was one stop RER train stop away from the Disney complex in
Val d’Europe (I stayed in a place called the Etap Marne la Vallée, I’d
recommend it if you’re on a budget since it’s fairly new, costs less
than €50 a night, and is a very short walk from the train station) so
I planned to get to the Studios Park close to ten so I could get a
ride or two on Crush’s Coaster before the lines for that one started
filling up. I got to the gates less than five minutes after opening at
10am, found the place didn’t look very crowded being a Monday in
March, and went straight to the Toon Studios section where I found
Crush’s Coaster was posting an 80 minute wait. Huh? Sure enough, it
somehow already managed to collect a full queue. In reality it would
have been about half of that, except for it broke down for close to a
half hour which did put the wait at around 75 minutes or so. Not the
best way to start the day.
It might have been a mistake to choose this Maurer spinning coaster
system since the single four-person cars, even with their fast, steady
dispatches, still can’t meet the capacity demanded by a Disney park on
even an incredibly lightly attended day such as this one. As a result
I had to make this my only ride on Crush’s Coaster for the entire day,
which was a shame because it might very well be the best ride in the
park (plus it’s the only major attraction of theirs that is still
totally unique to the Paris Studios Park). The platform area is
dressed up in a very attractive “Australian harbor at sunset” setting
straight from Finding Nemo, which was sort of weird feeling since it
was still morning. The spinning cars work well as turtle shells, my
suspicion this is why Maurer won the contract, although Mack’s
spinners could work just as well, and their model allows for multi-car
trains and a higher capacity.
The pre-ride starts out with a small lift hill right out of the
station. From here there’s a small right-hand dive into an outdoor
stretch of track that works as a photo opportunity for onlookers to
get a shot of the ride in action. It just as quickly zips back
indoors. I imagined that after this it would go straight into the main
chain lift, but the dark ride continues for another couple of block
segments, past scenes of jellyfish and the dreaded anglerfish, and
then upon engaging the lift hill there’s a long pipe from the “sunken
warship” part of the movie with an effective (and large) Bruce
animatronic that surprises us at the end. Cool stuff.
Then we get to the top, and the ride promptly suffers from what should
probably be called “Dark Knight Syndrome”. Namely, after a greatly
themed pre-ride section, it disappointingly culminates into a Coaster-
in-a-Box. There’s actually fewer props on the main section of Crush’s
Coaster than on the Dark Knight; in fact, there’s none. Swirling disco
balls meant to give the effect of rushing bubbles in the EAC are
pretty much all this ride was outfitted for. But unlike Dark Knight,
I’m sort of okay with this setup. The layout isn’t a bunch of low-
speed switchbacks, but is rather fast and intense, and with as much
spinning as we got I doubt I could see anything anyway (actually, I
don’t know, maybe there were props inside it that I could never focus
on). Apart from being a Coaster-in-a-Box it’s exactly the same as
Waldameer’s Steel Dragon which I liked quite a bit, and this one is
certainly no less of a ride, so I must give it a positive rating.
Still wish I could have gotten more rides on it.
After Crush’s Coaster I got a fast pass for Tower of Terror and then
moved on to the opposite side of the park to hit up the Rock ‘n’
Roller Coaster, except for that it was closed due to mechanical
reasons. The Moteurs… Action! Stunt Show next door appeared to have
just let in a line of people, so I quickly decided to join that
instead. There was no hurry, as they continued to let people in for a
good 25 minutes after I found a seat, with nothing to do. Here was a
good reason for checking one’s park guide to figure out when the
official show start times are, as I could have easily fit in another
nearby attraction in the time I spent sitting and checking my
cellphone clock wondering when this was going to get underway (not
that there were any other nearby attractions, at least ones that were
open). It finally started and it was pretty much what I expected: lots
of car tricks involving handbrakes, lots of motorcycles doing
wheelies, five-minute buildups to a stunt that lasts five seconds, a
couple bits of comic relief, a couple of big fireballs, and all done
under the pretense that this is how movies are made. I’m fairly
certain real movies don’t shoot their action sequences all in one take
using a three-camera sitcom set-up, nor that any movie would consist
of watching from the exterior cars do choreographed handbrake spins
around each other. It was at many times thrilling to watch, although
I’d be shocked if there wasn’t a person in the audience secretly
wishing to see an accident occur; in that regard the show was a
disappointment. At 45 minutes long it was at least a complete show,
and again it was nearly as entertaining listening to the performers
try to fit both French and English into the show and not have it come
off as unnatural.
Finishing with the show, which glorified special effects and Hollywood
action tripe, I really do have to wonder if this entire park was even
designed with a French market in mind. Total representation of French
cinema: null. And no, Ratatouille does not count, which is expected to
get an extensive dark ride in the next couple of years after the Toy
Story Playland is finished. Now that I think about it, I do recall the
Méliès brothers were briefly represented in history part of the Art of
Animation, although that should be an absolute given no matter what
country it’s located in. The degree of Americanization in the Studios
Park is quite significant, even compared to the Disneyland Park next
door, and while there might be a genuine market for this stuff in
France, the phrase “cultural imperialism” continued to whisper gently
in the back of my mind. Granted, I’ve not been in France for long
enough to get a sense of what the average citizen’s relationship to
Hollywood versus their own domestic cinema is, but I am rather stunned
that they couldn’t accommodate any references to Jean-Luc Godard,
François Truffaut, Jean-Pierre Melville, Henri-Georges Clouzot, or
even Jacques Tati, at least none that I ever noticed. Not even Amélie,
for christssake! I thought Disney Imagineers were supposed to take
pleasure in putting little treats like that for fans that care enough
to look for them to find… although it’s probably just as well that
those French New Wave pioneers stayed as far away from any Disney
association whatsoever, as I always feel jealous whenever something I
thought was a personal, insider interest is appropriated by the same
mainstream culture that celebrates James Horner soundtracks as a mark
of cinematic excellence, it just makes them feel cheap.
At some point the Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster finally reopened, and unlike
the Crush’s Coaster which had hour-plus waits all day, this one was
consistently able to move through its queue in under ten minutes. The
interior of the queue is modern, with lots of rock and roll posters
and collectables on display sure to please the fans out there. That
is, the fans that listen to English or American music as I couldn’t
find one piece represented by a band that would sing (or scream) its
lyrics in a language other than my own. Then we get to the preshow,
which is a bit problematic for several reasons: 1), an attendant has
us form two separate lines to get into it, but they let the first line
fill up before sending people into the second. These remerge after the
preshow, meaning that the people that got to fill in the beginning of
the second line get to ‘cut’ in front of those put at the end of the
first. 2), there’s going to be a lot of remixing of one’s relative
position in the queue anyway since the preshow room is rather
oversized leaving room for guests to mill around, and for the cleverer
guests to mill around in the direction of the exit doors, at least as
far as they can get without attracting the attention of other guests
already at the front of the line who realize the same thing. 3), this
issue of line-jumping does matter, since after a preshow which is
supposed to get everyone amped up for the imminent ride there’s still
a ten minute wait on the other side. 4), there’s no point to this
preshow anyway since it’s about thirty seconds long and sets up no
back story or anything (as far as I could tell the band is building a
roller coaster and they want you to ride it… I hope the Imagineers
didn’t have to stay up too late working on that one). 5), God, I hate
Aerosmith, I didn’t even know anything about them before today, but
after watching the same clip of the band members hanging out around
the studio trying to get attention from their lead-whatever as he
rattles on about how amazingly cool he is, I wish I could go back to
that state of ignorance I had on the group before I came to Disney.
However, the boarding platform is a decent setup, lots of lighting
effects and clear viewing space to watch a train launch, which looks
pretty fast with the strobe lights and everything. Best of all, as I
mentioned they move the trains through with great rapidity and the
queue attendant assigning seats assures every spot is filled and ready
to go for the next dispatch while generally being easy on taking
specific seat requests.
Loaded into the train we round the corner and wait for the launch. A
countdown sequence with lighting effects, and then we’re off down the
runway. The acceleration is neither as sudden nor as fast as it
appeared from off-ride, and it seems quit halfway down the launch zone
before we’ve reached full speed. Partly this is to accommodate a
stretch of anti-rollback brakes at the end of the launch, but it also
seems as though they’ve dialed it back from its full potential.
Nevertheless the train surges up into the signature rollover element,
which is hugely reminiscent of the opening element from Premier’s
Flight of Fear spaghetti bowl layout, only without the third
inversion, the intensity, or the lapbar-only trains. Still a good
element, though. Afterward the train rises back up around a large
right curve. And it keeps on turning right as swoops back down, and
back up, and all the way to the first block brake. From here we start
to turn left, and we keep on turning left, dipping up and down a
little bit, until there is a corkscrew, which allows a change of
direction so we exit it once again turning right. And we keep on
curving around to the right until there is another brake run (and the
transition from curve to flat is not even heartlined, the track just
starts to level out along the last part of the curve causing some
unexpected laterals. C’mon, Vekoma, you built this in 2002, this is
stuff that Stengel and Schwarzkopf had figured out some twenty-five
years earlier). After this brake run comes a real surprise… we go
left! The train continues around a wide left turn, making some gentle
carousel hops up and down, until it reaches a brake run whose length
suggests it was designed for a train entering it at some 70mph.
Now that it’s over, I can only think, “Wow! Was that really…
necessary?” It’s not an actively displeasurable experience, not really
rough and only slightly uncomfortable where it starts to pull
excessive lateral g-forces (and really, those are sort of the
highlights of the ride), and the interior lighting and effects are
decent, better than the disco balls in Crush’s Coaster at least. But
there’s absolutely zero purpose to the layout at all, it’s as if the
designers and Imagineers forgot what a coaster is supposed to do so
they just filled it in with whatever was easiest to design effects
around. The soundtrack adds extremely little, not quite able to
overcome the sound of the train roaring around the track, it’s like
someone just hooked up their iPod to the cars and made us listen to
random Aerosmith tunes (the fact that the coaster has nothing for pace
or progression would make it a challenge to sync any sort of music to
help improve). It’s especially unnecessary in the light of already
having Space Mountain next door, and the only reason I can fathom its
existence is because they already had the blueprints from the original
Florida version, and they needed to pull an E-Ticket attraction off
the shelve to include in the new Studios Park so this is what they got
landed with. I’m not begrudging this coaster’s existence, far from it
as this and Tower were the only two things I bothered to get re-rides
on all day, and in the case of Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster that would mean
many re-rides (with the short lines, on the order of some 15 or so
rides before I was done with my days at Disney), but considering the
amount of money this costs, I wish it could have been given to Cedar
Fair or someone who could have taken it and made a coaster much more
worth my while (and given my general feeling towards Cedar Fair’s
creative skills, that’s a pretty low opinion). Makes me long for the
days when I was riding the most cookie-cutter B&M sitdown layout
imaginable, listening to Whole Lotta Love as we crested the top of the
lift, and still thinking it was pretty great.
Around this time my fast pass for the Twilight Zone: Tower of Terror
was ready, so I went over to grab another one (it and the Genie flat
ride were the only rides in the entire park with flash pass access so
I just kept on grabbing more Tower tickets and never once waited in
the regular line). I think this won a poll some months ago for the
best single attraction in the state of Florida, so needless to say I
was curious to see why the high praise even though I was aware the
Parisian version was slightly less adored than its Floridian cousin.
I’ll start off by saying: I can see the reason for the high praise.
The attention to detail in the queue and preshow is great, the
architecture great, the attendants great, the backstory… well, not so
great. It seems like it has potential but the preshow television just
shows people get on an elevator, elevator gets struck by lightning,
then elevator plummets… that’s not a Twilight Zone story, that’s a
technical malfunction as an excuse to theme a drop tower ride (but
wait, the people show up as ghosts for some arbitrary reason
afterward). I thought the main selling point of a Disney attraction is
that they were expert storytellers, why am I getting all these
pedestrian narratives in every themed attraction that tries to tell a
story? No matter, it’s more about the atmosphere anyway, and once
we’re loaded into our elevator car is when things get interesting. As
the doors close, the car backs away from them, the lights going down
and the scene appears to turn into a starry field. We’re taken up one
level, the doors open, and we see a hotel waiting area, with a large
mirror on the back wall reflecting the passengers. Suddenly there’s a
flash of lightning, the light changes to reveal a ghostly version of
the same scene, and the passenger’s reflections are now black and blue
outlines. The doors close and we rise another level. They open, and
the people we saw board the elevator in the preshow video are standing
in a doorway. There’s an amazing effect where the hallway seems to
stretch away from us, and then the walls all disappear to be replaced
with a starry sky, the doorway still hovering on its own while it
starts to twist away slightly. This effect really got my attention
because as far as I could tell the set started off entirely with
practical effects, but by the end they had clearly manipulated it in
ways I can’t even begin to comprehend. The elevator rises once more,
and then we drop.
Did I say “drop”? I meant more like “bounce”. The car bounces us up
and down several times as if on an oversized Frog Hopper, then pulls
us back all the way to the top, where the doors open and we get to
look out over the park and see Space Mountain off in the distance
while the cameras take our picture, and then it bounces us down the
shaft again, each time providing a fun boost of weightlessness, but by
this point everyone is laughing instead of screaming. It repeats the
cycle once more before returning us to the lower level, the star field
returning as we re-approach the doors, the narration closing out the
Twilight Zone theme (complete with the beatnik percussion) and the
experience is over. Fun ride, but not in any way terrifying.
I was a bit let down in that regard. Sure, more families are going to
ride this than if it were at other parks, but the main appeal I
generally associate with these tower rides was the psychological
suspense building up to the big drop, and both factors were mostly
absent on Tower. I was particularly surprised by the lack of suspense,
since it seemed like that was the one thing that the theme would most
dramatically increase, but instead with the narrative whisking us away
from one cool special effects scene to the next I found I forgot or
didn’t care about any build-up to a big drop that was in my immediate
future, and was just focused on what was going on right now. Then the
drop does hit, and it’s only 20 feet deep before it pulls up to bounce
us around some more, and by that point any lingering traces of tension
have all been dissolved. From the outside I noticed the doors that
open when the cars are at the top of the tower are still a good 50
feet below the actual top of the tower, and I had to wonder why they
didn’t use that extra vertical space they had built. It still gives a
fun boost of air, but on re-rides the tension-building aspect was
especially weak because I knew there was nothing to build tension for,
I just had to enjoy the special effects on the way up and laugh at the
fun bouncy drops on the way down, and that was as deep as any
emotional reaction went. So I’ll reiterate those points: impressive
technical skills and a fun ride cycle lead me to see why it’s earned
some high praise, but as a full experience I personally felt like it
did not live up to what I had been promised. I still did it about five
times.
I’m sort of running out of rides to talk about, so I’ll briefly review
some of the other ‘things’ I did at the Studios Park. I only had to
drop down about €12 for lunch to get a croque-monsieur, bag of chips,
soft drink and slice of cheesecake (what other options do I have, I’m
trapped on an island where everything that doesn’t require a train
ticket is owned by Disney… the worst part is that actually didn’t seem
like that bad of a deal at the time!), and then I also had a quick
look around at the construction site for Toy Story Playland. The
Studio Tram Tours were unfortunately out of commission to accommodate
the construction, but I think once it’s done the park will be another
step closer to feeling more “complete”, with the Ratatouille dark ride
on line afterward being one of the main things still missing to
finally let the park live up to its full potential. What these
attractions have to do with filmmaking, I don’t know, but that’s a
limited theme for a park anyway and it needs whatever it can get. I’m
curious though how they’re going to manage the queue for the R/C Racer
Intamin Halfpipe coaster, since they seem to be even lower capacity
rides than the Crush’s Coaster. I thought I saw on a blue-print that
there would be two tracks side-by-side, but I could only see one
completed track while I was there.
The Art of Disney Animation begins with a preshow lobby room filled
with displays of varying historical value such as a zoetrope and other
such devices, while clips from the earliest years of Disney animation
play against a wall. We’re then led into a movie theater which gives
us a ten minute show demonstrating the Art of Disney Montage, with
clips from numerous Disney and Pixar films assembled together in a way
meant to arouse the same emotions felt from our favorite movies but
instead reveal just how much Disney has a tendency recycle the same
plot and character devices. That’s not even to rag on Disney too much
since there’s probably a lot of depth that could be analyzed from that
basic story structure Disney uses time and time again that would
explain precisely why it doesn’t lose its affect after multiple
viewings, or even for that matter why it needs to be reinterpreted
into different stories. From there the main part of the show in the
next room was a mix of a live action performance with projected
screens. The performance was in French so I had to wear headphone
giving the English version (which took away from the fact that it was
being acted out live). There actually was some insight into the
creative process, in this case specifically, designing the character
Mushu in Mulan. I don’t think I would have missed much if I just heard
the live French version.
Scattered between more Tower of Terror and Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster
rides, I eventually found I ran out of time in my day and had time for
only one more new attraction. Originally I wanted to make it another
ride on Crush’s Coaster but that would have eliminated all the time I
had left in the day, so I decided to make it something I hadn’t done
yet and caught the last screening of CinéMagique. I have no idea what
audience this was intended for. For one, you have to be bilingual to
understand everything that’s going on because there are no subtitles
in English for the sections in French, nor French subtitles for those
sections in English. It’s mostly in English however, which made me at
times wonder if this had originally been made for the Florida or
California parks until a French section came in reminding me it was
clearly filmed just for the Studios Park in Paris. It’s mostly just a
half-hour long movie sitting in a giant theater, but they incorporate
some physical effects (the first time it happened I was really
surprised until I figured out what was going on… I won’t give it away
for those that might be seeing it for themselves). Once again, the art
of montage is on full display, only this time with live-action movies
that span the history of cinema, and starring Martin Short as he
stumbles around from one famous movie scene to the next, his comedic
skills on display here consist almost entirely of grinning at the
camera. The films represented range from all over (Charlie Chaplin, a
scene that’s a mix of footage from the Good, the Bad and the Ugly with
Once Upon A Time in the West, Star Wars, Titanic, Monty Python and the
Holy Grail, Casablanca, Some Like It Hot, Mary Poppins, The Full
Monty, Pinocchio, The Pink Panther, The Exorcist, The Silence of the
Lambs, and more. Again, this attraction seems better marketed for
English speakers than French, as not one of the films reference shows
anything to do with French cinematic history, which is considerable
and yet completely neglected by Disney. Although as I finish writing
this I’m hearing the harmonica theme from Once Upon a Time in the West
play in my head which makes me want to watch it again, so I at least
got that benefit.
I’m going to cheat a little bit since that was my last ride of the day
at the Studios Park, but afterward I went over to Disneyland since
they were open an hour later and got a few more Space Mountain rides
in. The next day, since I still felt like I hadn’t seen everything I
needed to see at the Studios Park, I made that the first stop of the
day up until noon, where I got a couple more attractions I missed on
the first. First of all, I made sure to really get there at park
opening this time, and I got to be one of the first in line for my
second ride on Crush’s Coaster… there was still a half hour wait until
they would open the ride for us, by which time a full queue had formed
behind me making an immediate re-ride impossible. But I did get to
catch the Cars Quatre Roues Rallye, a Zamperla Demolition Derby that
basically replicates the motions of any normal spinning flat ride, but
with the unique exception of that the cars run on a figure-eight
track. I’m not sure exactly how the technology works that allows them
to make the switchover in the middle of the figure- eight, but it
results in a chaotic scene with some extremely narrow calls as the
cars dive between each other’s paths. Good ride, although the low
capacity probably hurts it on busier operating days. A video clip I
took on board the ride can be watched here.
Between a few more Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster rides I finally managed to
get Armageddon – Les Effets Speciaux, which I had tried to do the
previous day but the first time the queue attendant decided the people
ahead of me would be the last people let into the next show and turned
me away (literally, told me to get out of the queue altogether), and
the second time after joining the mostly full waiting area for some
five minutes, was told it was going to be another fifteen minutes
until we were let in, at which point I realized my schedule was
already far enough behind from the Crush’s Coaster wait and the delay
in starting the stunt car show that I decided to bail. So I finally
got to do it on the third attempt and while it most likely wasn’t
worth it there wasn’t anything else better to do with my time. After a
preshow explaining how we’re filming a scene for the movie Armageddon
(Really? Michael Bay is the best IP they find for this? I’ve said this
several times already but I’m in France, why do I have to deal with
this sort of crap all the way over here?) we’re led into a space-ship
themed special effects chamber that supposedly undergoes a meteor
barrage. There are numerous lights and bursts of fog and rocking
floors and the occasional pyrotechnics, culminating in a huge fireball
that erupts twice in the center of the room (which I was in very close
proximity to and got doused by the water sprinklers meant to control
it, thank you very much for asking). Of course everyone cheers and
we’re funneled back out the exit. I grab one last ride on Tower of
Terror and then move on to finish the rest of the day at Disneyland
Park.
Jeremy
Disneyland Paris (Part 2)
Marne la Vallée, France – Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010
Three days at Disney was probably overdoing it. By comparison, I only
allotted myself one full day to see Paris, and yet for some reason I
felt three would be needed to fully see Disney. That is not an
itinerary one should admit to other people when they ask about how
you’ll be allocating your time during your four days in Paris. Now to
justify this slightly, originally I had been planning to only see
Disneyland over a three-day weekend and not even step foot inside the
city, which I wanted to save for another time (i.e. when Parc Astérix
and Parc Saint Paul would be open). Then plans changed and after
deciding I needed to buy my tickets at the Disney Store on the Champs-
Élysées for the best discount and that I could make a stop to try out
Jardin d’Acclimatation’s three coasters, I said, “alright, I’ll spend
a day in Paris, too.” Just to get a taste of the city to motivate me
even more to return one day. Meanwhile Disney I wanted to make sure I
would have ample time to explore every nook and cranny and get so many
re-rides on the coasters until I was sick of them that I would
thereafter have absolutely no motivation to ever return ever again.
But still, three days at Disney was probably overdoing it…
After wrapping up a brief two hours spent in the Walt Disney Studios
Park getting caught up on some of the things I missed out on the day
prior, I made my way to the entrance of Disneyland by noon. I quickly
found the fastest route to the Big Thunder Mountain fast pass ticket
dispensers, and then hopped aboard the Disneyland Railroad from the
Frontierland depot to take me back to Fantasyland to kill the time
before my fast pass return time was ready. There was still one major
dark ride in the park I had not been on the first day and it was
located in Fantasyland. Let me check my park guide to see what it
could be… it’s not the Snow White or Pinocchio rides, although those
need to be done as well. Already did Peter Pan two days ago, which
leaves me with… oh, dear God, no. The Happiest Ride on Earth, “it’s a
small world”.
It’s not just the song, which repeats the same chords over and over
and over and won’t leave your head afterward no matter what you try.
It’s not just the sets, which for ten minutes you float by the same
candy-colored scenes of multi-ethnic children joined in song. It’s the
fact that the whole thing feels so… innocently happy. To put this in
perspective, my idea of a good time in the recent past has included
attending a double feature of The Road and Antichrist, in which the
first movie set in the post-apocalyptic world about a father and son
resisting the urge to become cannibals like everyone else in the
country as they futilely search for safety was, to me, the cheerful,
uplifting film between the two. This has just always been a ‘thing’
with me; that is, I hear people say “oh, such-and-such movie or book
was good but it’s also really depressing, I’d rather have one that
lifts my spirits up and makes me feel happy at the end,” I don’t know
how to reply because for me it’s the opposite. ‘Happy’ stories are
inherently depressing because the narrative manipulations only
highlight the fictional nature of the experience in contrast with real
life; meanwhile those that other people label as depressing I would
label as exhilarating simply because I’ve been in the presence of
great art. If it’s ‘depressing’ and a bad work of art, then why should
I feel depressed by it when all I should be is sharply critical of its
faults. Hopefully that explains where I’m coming from when I stepped
onto the boat of “it’s a small world”
But okay, so it’s a ride that celebrates the economic push for
globalization that robs nations of their political sovereignty while
promoting superficial cultural differences that should exist only as a
novelty for the industrialized western world to gawk at. That seems
like a perfect fit for Disney. And actually for what it’s worth I did
not regret the experience at all, although perhaps for not the right
reasons. Technically there’s some pretty interesting stuff in there,
and so I spent most of the ride snapping pictures and marveling over
the sheer amount of labor hours that must have gone into building each
of these sets. Pleasing colors, well-proportioned sets, perfectly
blocked animatronics… it could have been an attraction showcasing the
wonderful world of tort reform and it wouldn’t have made any
difference just as long as the sets were designed with the same level
of care and precision. That’s the thing I’ve found out about Disney,
most of the time it doesn’t even matter what the subject material is,
the spectacle is simply being immersed in the presence of such an
overwhelming display of technical craft (or, at the very least, an
impressive capital budget) that all other concerns seem to float out
the door.
So did I enjoy “it’s a small world”? Let the fact that despite a less
than 10 minutes queue I only rode it once during my entire stay at
Disney speak for itself. My immediate repulsion towards the concept of
the attraction did make me stop for a moment to consider what does
seem to be a rather odd sociological trend. Consider an individual who
is always happy. No matter the circumstances, they always come to work
with a smile on their face and song in their heart, and whose only
unrequited desire is the ability to lift the spirits of coworkers who
have the misfortune of lacking the same quantities of mirth as
themselves have the good fortune to be bestowed with. If you’re like
most adults, your impression of this individual will not be, “what a
kind, strong-willed personality; I wish I could always be as happy as
they!” Your impression will be to keep as far away from this
individual as possible, and perhaps to even wish some ill-fortune to
befall them in order for the sake of everyone else around them to stop
acting so silly and start behaving like a real human being, with the
proper amounts of depression, doubt and self-loathing that should
always entail. And there you have the reaction to “it’s a small
world”.
Where does this attitude come from? Is it just a general hatred of
happiness in many of us? It seems the repulsion to anything in a
perpetual state of cheer is automatic and unquestioned, suggesting it
may stem from cultural conditioning. Perhaps the percentage of the
population suffering from anhedonia collectively decided to make it
appear ‘cool’ to hate on anyone displaying needless happiness, and so
snark and sarcasm became the new dominant forms of humor in mass media
rather than good old-fashioned song-and-dance and knock-knock jokes.
Or perhaps there is legitimacy to this prevailing skepticism against
happiness. For most of the corporate world the concept of ‘happiness’
has been objectified into a consumer product ready to be packaged,
marketed and sold to the general public, with Disney most likely being
at the forefront of this campaign. It’s nothing against happiness in
and of itself, but the sentiment is that real happiness has to be
earned; a severely handicapped person who finds picking up and
dropping leaves to be the greatest fulfillment in the world may in
fact be the happiest person alive, but we would almost never say that
this person is leading the ideal of a ‘good life’. When I see joy and
celebration simply floating around with no apparent reason, I find
there is something greatly suspect about that, and it therefore rides
such as “it’s a small world” become a target of derision in order to
see if any holes can be poked through the joyful façade to discover
what underlying machinations exist.
After “it’s a small world” I still had a bit more time until my Big
Thunder Mountain fast pass was ready so I made a stop at the Fantasia
Gelati to pick up a snack to tide me over until later in the day. The
map was indicating that this was the only food location in the entire
park that served crêpes, and seeing as I skipped ordering one during
my one day in the city, it seemed it would be a great injustice for
myself to leave France without having tried a crêpe. I only mention
this because here’s where I easily had my worst customer service
experience while at Disney: staffed by only one employee who had
clearly already become too disillusioned with the futility of his task
that he made no effort to hurry, I had at least a twenty minute wait
for what ended up being a €3 soggy, extra thin pancake that was barely
able to fill the size of the smallest diameter Dixie paper plate they
served it on. I didn’t even get to enjoy a moment’s rest on a shaded
table because by the time I finally was served I needed to make haste
over to Big Thunder Mountain so I could pick up my next fast pass.
It was soon determined that after experiencing “it’s a small world” I
needed a dark ride with hair on it, one that wasn’t themed to a
celebration of singing children and world peace, but rather a
celebration of looting, arson and rape. Thankfully Disney has an
answer to my needs not far away in the form of Pirates of the
Caribbean.
The queue for this was one of the longer ones between both days I was
there but it moved fast enough (as is the case with most Disney
attractions) and is also one of the better places to spend waiting in
line. After a small outdoor switchback section we’re channeled into
the Caribbean stone castle, winding our way through some dark
corridors with an occasional display chamber featuring the skeletal
remains of inmates. Near the terminus of the queue is the final
loading platform showroom, and this represented one of the couple of
places in the park in which I could truly understand why Disney
attracts such a rabid fanbase. You know how in dark rides that are
supposed to have night scenes the lighting technicians always get too
proud and decide to put show lighting in every single corner of the
room, resulting in too bright of a setting while also illuminating all
the wiring and prop backings that are not supposed to be seen? That is
not the case with this room, which uses just enough yellow and red
lighting exclusively from the lanterns set along the pathway to create
an exotic glow against the stonework walls and tropical foliage, while
not enough to reach to the ceiling, which my eyes were telling me was
a authentic starry night sky and not just a ceiling painted black and
with small LED lights implanted into it. (After enough time had
elapsed and my eyes adjusted from the outdoor brightness to this low-
light interior I could see the outlines of some ventilation units next
to Ursa Major.) The humidity and that aroma of running water from the
nearby flume channel (I know water is technically odorless but
hopefully you kind of know what I’m talking about) contribute to the
creation of what many themed attractions seem to be sorely missing:
atmosphere. Yes, for a few moments in that showroom I felt as though I
really could have been transported to a different time and place, and
without an overload of different props and effects whizzing around my
head as on Phantom Manor I was able to simply take it all in. And now
we board the boats.
Out of the loading platform, the first part of the flume channel is
mostly a quiet rainforest lagoon with waterfalls, no swashbuckling
yet. A terrace for the Blue Lagoon restaurant is built inside this
environment as well, and everyone on the boat sees this and thinks,
“ah, I’d like to have dinner there tonight but it’s probably too
expensive!” Past the waterfall we begin to climb upward while the
famous Yo Ho theme song begins the fill in the background over the
roar of rushing water. The adventure is about to begin.
I am told by television theme park specials that what makes a Disney
ride such as Pirates of the Caribbean so special is the fact that it’s
not just a series of elaborate gags as you will find at other theme
parks, but that huge amounts of time and energy are spent in making
sure a story is told throughout the attraction. Once the bulk of the
story’s action starts, as we float by I can imagine in my head the
pitch originally made to sell this story to guests:
“Okay, so there’s these pirates, right? But they’re not just any kind
of pirate, they’re Caribbean pirates! And these pirates, you know,
they’re making a mess of things. Pillaging. Plundering. The works.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘I’ve seen pillage and plunder
before!’ Here’s the twist. You also have insobriety and attempted
rape. Ah, bet you weren’t seeing those things coming! Now, you might
be thinking to yourself, ‘okay, there’s the characters, but where’s
the story?’ That’s coming, believe me, but first – and I think this is
the thing that makes or breaks this whole idea, it’s not just
something to have in there for laughs but is really the, uh, you-know
– that’s having the audience come to understand and connect with the
psychology of these characters first. I’m being really serious right
now. Because, you know, these character can initiate events in the
plot, but what does it matter if we don’t know why they had the need
for such actions. So here’s that burning psychology summed up in four
simple words: “A pirate’s life for me!” Five simple words. That
doesn’t count the apostrophe since it’s a possessive. So, we have the
characters and we have the motivation… do we have a girl? You betcha,
several in fact! Alright, so now to answer the question, where’s the
story? It’s, um, well, you know, I should tell you first off that it’s
not really all about the story, you know, like with plot point A, B,
climax, denouement, etc. That’s a very Hollywood way of storytelling,
and I think our audience wants something a bit deeper than that.
Pirates of the Caribbean, to me, is more of a character study, or just
a kind of quiet, contemplative reflection on a certain state of
humanity. In a way I would sort of liken it to being something akin to
Yasujirô Ozu’s Floating Weeds. But with pirates. Anyway, I can see
you’re starting to glaze, so I’ll wrap this up quick. They set a
building on fire, and then everyone falls down a waterfall for some
reason. Kids and adults love it, and then there’s the buried treasure
discovered at the end to tie up any loose ends, the boat gets back to
the station, people get off and go home, satisfied with how they spent
their 8 bucks admission. So there you have it. End o’ pitch.”
Was I satisfied? Wait, where was that story I had heard so much hype
over? I counted many gags. Chasing wenchs on a turntable gags, cats on
a floating barrel gags, dogs holding keys in its mouth gags, drunken
bottle-tipping near my head in a way that reminds me of several
college roommates I’ve had gags, but I had a hard time finding a story
linked between all of those gags. To be sure, some are very expensive
gags. Engineering two animatronics to sync a swordfight between the
two left me feeling very satisfied that the money I put down on my
admission ticket was being used for something. But in the end I sort
of felt the question of “how can we showcase our technical
animatronics skills” preceded that of “what sort of narrative/
emotional experience do we want to provide our guests?” It’s not like
this is the first and only Pirates ride, so maybe I should try out the
original California version which Walt Disney himself actually had a
hand in before making any more judgments about the attraction myself.
My first reaction was that Adventureland was the overlooked white
elephant between all of Disneyland Paris’s themed lands. Checking the
park guide for ride listings I discovered only two fully fledged
mechanical rides in Adventureland, Pirates of the Caribbean and the
Indiana Jones coaster, and the latter is of very dubious quality at
least in terms of Disney’s standard of judgment. Everything else to me
appeared to just be jungle-themed walkthroughs or interactive
children’s exhibits, nothing that should have been of any real
interest to park-goers in my demographics. But after crossing by the
area several times to get to Pirates or Indiana Jones, both of which
are located on the far back edge of Adventureland, I came under the
impression that there was an awful lot of land in between the main
walkways, and I wasn’t altogether sure what was contained within it.
So I decided to explore.
Much of the land contained in Adventureland is dedicated to Adventure
Isle. It’s basically a never-ending series of narrow, winding pathways
interlocking in and around caves, rope bridges, waterfalls and
tropical foliage. It’s not a maze, per se (although make sure you plan
at least five to ten minutes’ escape time should you need to reconvene
with a group or find the nearest restroom facilities) nor are there
really any exhibits or other displays to be found. It’s just a chance
to get off the main midways and go exploring, to try to see if you can
possibly find every pathway, and then leave wondering if you somehow
missed an entire corner. It’s a touch that seems distinctly European,
a chance to discover things which one would never be able to point out
on a map. Nearby is also La Cabane des Robinson, another entirely walk-
through attraction, this one in an even more breathtaking setting
(high up in a man-made tree overlooking the entire park) although this
is sacrificed for a purely linear pathway route that doesn’t provide a
chance to explore. Various sets are inspired by the Swiss Family
Robinson story but unfortunately there’s never a completely clear
vantage point from the top. For me the main curiosity is figuring out
how we’re supposed to believe that a family living in economic autarky
could produce for themselves so many items of convenience. I suppose
this does still leave Adventureland to be a little underdeveloped in
comparison to the other lands, however, having a chance to fully
explore this land I no longer believe this was wholly unintentional or
due to neglect from the park’s Imagineers, not that an additional D-
or C-ticket attraction wouldn’t be unwelcomed somewhere back by the
pathway to Indiana Jones which currently forms an awkward cul-de-sac.
Looking over the guide to attractions I noticed something; many of the
attractions listed were not even attractions but simply extensions of
the main midways meant to explore without having to wait in line.
Apparently there was an additional Aladdin walk-through I never saw, a
barracks built over the entrance of Frontierland I did have the chance
to climb over, the Nautilus attraction in Discoveryland I didn’t think
too much of, and several built throughout Fantasyland, the principle
of which was the ability to climb in and around Le Château de la Belle
au Bois Dormant. Unfortunately since this was still technically the
off-season, the majority of the castle was closed for renovations
works and not open to the public to walk around, save for some of the
caves built beneath it, one featuring a large, slumbering dragon
animatronic (thankfully the only other victims of off-season rehab
during my visit was the Casey Jr. Train powered roller coaster, and
honestly I had a hard time guessing where in the park it was even
located that had to be closed off, as it’s sort of way back in its own
corner of Fantasyland.) Also in Fantasyland was Alice’s Curious
Labyrinth, a sort of hedge maze with interactive figures based on
Alice in Wonderland, my favorite always being the smoking caterpillar.
This is one walkthrough that, before entering, you need to calculate
two things: will you have enough time to complete this before you need
to use the restroom and before you need to be back at Big Thunder
Mountain for (another) Fast Pass? I very nearly failed on both counts,
such did the complexity of this labyrinth exceed my expectations.
Before wrapping up any and all Fantasyland reporting, I must add a
few notes on two more dark rides to be found in the area: Blanche-
Neige et les Sept Nains (Snow White’s Scary Adventures), and Les
Voyages de Pinocchio (Pinocchio’s Daring Journey). I liked these dark
rides. They’re humble. That’s what makes them so great, unlike every
other ride in the park where the Imagineers working on terra firma
aimed for distant galaxies with their ambitions and the result is
somewhere in between. They also remind me of the joy of watching one
of the classic Disney animated films back when the company was still
all about Walt’s dream of creating hand-drawn magic, and nothing else.
The ride vehicles are simple, 6-person Sally-esque buggies that hum
along an electric track past hand-painted scenes with simple 2D
cutouts, retelling in five minutes the classic Disney movies of Snow
White and Pinocchio. The queues aren’t long because they’re so out of
the way, tucked in a small thatched of fantasy-Germanic buildings
behind the Sleeping Beauty Castle. There are some happy sets, but also
some scary, dark ones, which are effective not so much because of what
is represented on the sets but through that aura associated with being
on a simple dark ride such as these. Worth riding just because in
their simplicity they are possibly two of the most authentically real
feeling attractions in the park.
However, if there is one attraction in the park that I would return to
Marne la Vallée just to ride, it would undoubtedly be Space Mountain:
Mission 2. This thing flat-out rocks.
The first time I boarded it two days prior in the front row, I knew
only a few things to expect: there was a launched lift hill to the top
of the mountain, there were three inversions, the last of which is
called a ‘tongue’ and you want to be especially careful when that one
rolls around (think of the cutback on the ill-fated Drachen Fire and
you’ve got the same idea). It’s built by Vekoma, meaning it’s rough-as-
hell, and no one that’s ever been on it has a clue what goes on inside
between the launch and the brakes. As we were dispatched from the
station, all I really knew was, “this could potentially go many
different ways. Literally and figuratively”. When I got back to the
station with my hair blown back, tears streaming behind my eyes and
the quiet realization that I had just experienced one of the better
steel looping coasters I’ve ever been on. Needless to say it went the
way I was hoping, although I wasn’t sure why.
First of all, was it Vekoma rough? Not at all. Okay, back-axel seat
rows, maybe a little bit; and more-so the further back in the train
you get. If you’re in the back part of the car, it’s more a case of
watching your knees on the seatback in front of you than worrying
about an increased rattle which contributes to only a few jarring
moments in some of the more dynamic transitions. During front row
rides my ears never once made a connection with the harness due to any
cause other than my own moral agency. It’s not too difficult getting
front since there’s an attendant assigning seats but they’re pretty
flexible towards requests to wait an extra cycle to grab the next
train out.
We roll around the turn, make a small dip under the exit platform, and
then come to a sudden halt on the upward inclined brakes. For some
reason, despite having made a transformation into Mission 2 a few
years back, there are no special effects or decorations inside the
launch cannon apart from a few simple strips of Christmas tree lights.
The acceleration isn’t particularly fast but the g-forces are
increased due to the slope. This is the only part of the ride in which
you can see the outside world, at the top, it’s a plunge into
blackness. I think there’s also supposed to be a pop of airtime on the
crest to signify the weightlessness experienced upon our entry to
space, but it wasn’t launching fast enough.
So far the coaster is only a few seconds in and there are already
several critical counts against it. However, once we crest that hill
and the beat from the soundtrack kicks in, the lead car hangs over the
precipice of a black abyss for a split moment before diving downward,
and here’s where the fun begins.
Honestly, I rode Space Mountain over 20 times between my three days at
the Disneyland Resort, and even I can’t tell you exactly what’s going
on in there, at least in a way in which I can picture the entire
layout in my head. However, I did gather enough that I can at least
describe a general sequence of events for those of you wanting to know
but can’t see anything off the POVs (anyone know if there’s a lights-
on POV video floating around teh interwebz anywhere?) Here’s my take
on what happens: descending left-hand drop to ground level, continuing
up around a high-speed banked turn, eventually leveling out for a
moment before pounding into the first inversion, a sidewinder type
element which pushes the limits of positives and forward inverting
rotational movement through its tight circumference, and then throwing
a sideways twist out of the maneuver. From here I recall another
tighter, elevated turn or two before it slides onto the first
midcourse. If there was any slowness in the launch, it certainly
wasn’t to the detriment of the ride on the inside of the dome. The
midcourse grabs hard, nearly bringing us to a halt, the soundtrack
changing tempo to reflect this lost pace, but the fact that the music
seems perfectly synced to our trains rolling off the midcourse back
into the ride action suggests this heavy breaking may be intentional.
Off the midcourse brake there is a curving triple down in the dark.
Wait, what? I thought the Voyage invented that? Apparently Disneyland
Paris and Vekoma beat Holiday World and the Gravity Group to that one
by a good eleven years. It actually took me a good four or five rides
before I realized all those dips were continuous, and while it doesn’t
produce any extreme forces itself, the sensual effect of diving down
three times in a row while rounding a right-hand bend can feel a bit
unusual by itself once you know to look for it. At the base of the
triple down is the ride’s second inversion, a basic corkscrew threaded
between a couple day-glo asteroids. It then wraps around a bit more
before feeding into the second midcourse block, this one in the form
of a minor lift hill (à la Loch Ness Monster’s midcourse lift),
something else I was not expecting my first time through the ride.
Projected on a screen in front of us as the motors work to quickly get
us over the top is a short clip of a supernova going off, the
soundtrack synced to produce rumbling sounds and the music score fades
out before diving back to its frantic beat.
Another diving curve, followed by, I think, a second banked turn
(somewhere around here I was really wondering when that tongue I was
warned about would happen, or if it had already gone by and I somehow
hadn’t registered it). Bam, small dip and then we’re twisting up,
upside-down, making a sudden and slightly unintuitive direction change
right as we’re at our most precarious a full 180° turned away from
gravity. The train rotates back out of the inversion, and then follows
the floor of the mountain closely as it navigates a slightly
undulating ground-level turn. While the dome has been rather sparse on
custom themeing so far, a tunnel of spiraling red tracer light closes
out this final turn, and the mindbending effect this produces makes me
wish Disney decided to build this near a coffee shop in Amsterdam
instead. The train plows into the braking area (viewable from the
queue), and without even coming to a full stop it prowls around a
couple flat turns as it navigates us back to our home port. At this
point, if I was in the front seat, I was whipping the tears which had
streamed from my eyes and fingering through my hair.
Alright, so sounds like a pretty cool ride, right? Why do I give it
such particular praise? Well, for one, I like the fact that this is a
layout I have never seen before and has a completely non-standard
sequencing pattern from every other multilooper. Things like the first
inversion taking place later in the layout and not being a vertical
loop, the triple down off the first midcourse, the cutback and effects
tunnel, it all stands out above the competition as having an original
bag of trick up its sleeve.
Secondly, it’s intense without ever being rough. Especially in the
dark setting, it’s easy to get really disoriented in there, and apart
from the crest of the main hill I never felt like any element was
slower paced than it was intended to be. The era of construction may
be a factor, as designers had figured out force engineering and
calculus by that point to build layouts that didn’t hold back on pace
or intensity for fear that they may unexpectedly go too far. But they
still retained a bit of a raw, untamed edge which would eventually
disappear from their designs, plus the standards of what constituted
“too intense” hadn’t yet been lowered to the level they are today. So
it also has all of that going for it, which is generally all I ask
from a good looping coaster.
But thirdly, and this is what really gave it the extra push over other
like-minded designs and put it in the bottom of my Top Ten, is that it
knows how to sequence itself properly, and it uses the let-ups in
pacing to its advantage. While some designs pride themselves on no-
holds-barred intensity from lift to brakes, Space Mountain is wise
enough to strategically allow a couple moments’ pauses. They don’t
come off as dead moments, but more like calms between storms (possibly
aided by the soundtrack and visual effects which try to make these
moments ‘fit’ with the rest of the action around it). I can always
appreciate how much I enjoyed the previous section and how much I’m
looking forward to the next, which is harder to do when the pacing is
non-stop. The layout is divided into three thirds, and no one section
outshines the others, and yet they’re all very different and unique.
Each has a singular, original inversion sandwiched by various forms of
curving and or dropping motions with some scant special effects. And
unlike Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster next door, which is mostly just
meandering turnarounds, here the layout feels like it’s actually
setting out to accomplish something (anything!) for the riders.
If there is one point of criticism I’d have to take with Space
Mountain it’s the conception of outer space present here. This is
actually true of nearly all themed attractions that involve space
travel, as well as the majority of Hollywood movies and other media
involving the final frontier. It’s the failure to realize that what
makes space so awe-inspiring isn’t improved by the ability to zoom
past stars at “light speed” and hear a supernova explode just so you
can fly away from it in the nick of time, nor is it using black holes
as convenient teleportation devices or island hopping alien planets
like you’re taking a drive down the neighborhood. What makes space so
amazing is the inconceivably vast emptiness of it, the incredible
inertia of the relatively microscopic heavenly bodies that occupy it,
and the seemingly infinite quantities of time these bodies have at
their disposal to get anything done. Why it is that popular culture
feels these attributes need to be subverted rather than embraced is
mystery only behind what shape the plane of the universe occupies.
Personally, I always find these attempts to take space and make it
more ‘exciting’ or ‘thrilling’ in fact just make it pedestrian and
banal (the recent Star Trek reboot is only one of many suffering from
this problem). Thankfully, DLP’s Space Mountain is a lesser offender
since the retro-futuristic use of the Jules Verne story (and
subsequent Georges Méliès film adaptation in 1902) gives the ride more
of a historical, literary theme rather than one grounded in so-called
science fiction. The transformation into Mission 2 was most likely not
a step in the right direction, however, since from my understanding it
replaced the iconic image of the spaceship landing in the moon’s eye
with a supernova explosion, and –hello!– you can’t hear a supernova! I
guess for a ride as fast-paced as Space Mountain an attempt to try to
accurately capture those qualities of space would be misfit, so this
is more of a general cultural criticism rather than anything to say
about this particular attraction.
After a final ride in the front row of Space Mountain, my time at
Disney was now over. As I walked down Main Street USA, stopping in the
emporium to pick up a cheap refrigerator magnet souvenir, I asked
myself whether or not I enjoyed Disneyland Paris.
Yes, I concluded. I genuinely did. While it might be easy to find
criticism against the Disney Corporation as a whole, I think it’s
clear that the people that work in and design these parks have a
genuine love for what they do and for creating the best guest
experience they possibly know how. While that might sound like an
obvious observation, one look at other branches of the Disney Empire
might not so quickly reveal the same thing, pretty much across the
globe save for a certain studio in Burbank, California. It was also
more of a European experience than I may have imagined, taking some
considerations of the continent’s culture and fitting it into the
equation, rather than simply trying to export an American product to
France with no afterthought. Surprisingly, this would be more of a
problem at many European-owned parks I would later travel to, which
seemed to be attempting to replicate the American model of theme park
as closely as they could only with less success.
The story will not end there. Unfortunately I do not have enough time
or patience to continue it with this review, but neither do I suspect
most readers so I think it will be best to leave my final social and
aesthetic critique of the “themed experience” for a later time and as
its own special feature. To preface what’s to come: as I left the park
my thoughts were as many enthusiasts, “wow, the themeing is some of
the best I’ve seen anywhere.” But then a voice in the back of my head
asked a follow-up question.
“So what?”
How do I answer?
David Sandborg
<c63f955b-857d-4fc9...@x21g2000yqa.googlegroups.com>,
Jeremy <jkthom...@gmail.com> wrote:
> Just finished writing a four-part review after a trip to Paris last
> March. For those that want to read it on rrc I'll copy the text below,
> otherwise follow the hyperlink to get the official version with photos
> and HTML formatting.
A very thorough and well thought-out review as usual! I look forward to
more European reviews from you in the future. Not having been to
Paris--in anything but name at least, I have flown through DeGaulle and
stayed in a hotel on the outskirts--or Disneyland Paris, my comments
will probably be somewhat general in nature and only on limited parts of
your posts. In fact I'll combine them all into one response.
First a general comment...you're apparently very hard to please! You're
pretty down on Disney, and though I'm reasonably sympathetic to some of
your reasons in general, I found this series to be pretty negative. I
believe that the Paris Disney installations are not ranked highly even
among fanatics, perhaps you should have saved your first Disney
experience for another complex. Or (as I believe you acknowledge later)
three days in Disney parks and only one in Paris itself was a poor
balance for you. Perhaps you got taken up with the idea of being an
amusement park fanatic when you should instead have considered yourself
as a receptive tourist interested in a foreign culture and planned your
trip accordingly. I know for a fact that whenever I do manage to visit
Paris I will want to spend plenty of time on the city itself, and little
if any on Disneyland, which will be entirely secondary.
> Jardin dąAcclimatation
> Paris, France Saturday, March 20th, 2010
>
> Before flying across the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, I secretly
> believed that somehow being in Europe would feel different. Not just
> in differences in the surroundings, customs, food or even the
> language. If I were to close my eyes while in Europe, there would
> still be some mysterious, indescribable energy coursing through the
> fabric of existence that would make that immediate sensation different
> than if I were still back home in North America. A split-secondąs
> logical reflection on this idea would of course render it ridiculous
> to consider, but it was hard not to look at a map of the world and,
> upon realizing just how incalculably massive a distance Iąd be from
> anywhere I had ever been before, to think for just a little bit that
> perhaps thereąd be a slight change in the average spin directionality
> of an electron, or a minor disturbance in the in the otherwise uniform
> Higgs field that permeates the universe. Being told ad nauseam by my
> universityąs Office of Study Abroad about the massive cultural changes
> Iąd experience most likely didnąt help to assuage those feelings, even
> though it was pretty obvious they just wanted to stress the point that
> they donąt want the student population getting blacked-out drunk on
> the streets every weekend like they would in the states, especially
> considering for most of them, a semester abroad is basically
> equivalent to a four month long party.
I don't know. Yes, the idea that Europe might be different at some kind
of quantum level is ridiculous, but we don't live in the quantum world.
We live in a world of human cultures and institutions, and I do find
Europe different from America in its overall cultural "feel". I get a
much more relaxed feeling over there than I ever have in the US, and I
don't think this can entirely be accounted for by the fact that I myself
have been on vacation. I also get a different sense of civic and even
generational responsibility there that Americans have much less of. I
saw this most strikingly when I considered that Sagrada Familia is a
project that has already lasted more than a century and has decades to
go. I can't think of any similar project in America. I think these
differences are ingrained in the very streets and cafes. That said,
you've already spent more time in Europe--and actually living
there--than I ever have, so you might know better.
> The next morning I headed off on my own a little before 9:00am to be
> at the Sacre Coeur right in time for the opening of the dome, and
> because I didnąt want to run out of time there before a tour I
> scheduled started at 11 at the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was indeed
> a short walk from the hostel, and much to my delight I found the area
> was still relatively quiet with only a small scattering of tourists
> standing around.
I like getting to popular tourist sites early for this reason, though
it's often a struggle to get up early enough!
> [Description of scammer]
Fortunately I've only run afoul of this kind of thing once and it didn't
cost me that much. Nowadays I'm cynical enough that it wouldn't have
cost me anything at all. You just can't let them do the thing that is
going to make it look like you have some obligation that they can charge
you for. That might involve having to be rude, which is difficult to be
as a conscientious tourist.
> I do regret that my plans never allowed me time to actually go into
> the Louvre or any other of the Parisian art museums, but my plan had
> always been from the start of the trip to get only a Śtasteą of Paris
> so Iąd be sure to return somedayŠ and I will open admit here my main
> motivation for returning is to visit Parc Astérix and Parc Saint Paul
> when theyąre not closed, especially since the first is rumored to
> finally get a major new steel coaster in 2011.
Hmmmm...having been to Parc Astérix I can say I didn't care for it much.
Part of this was undoubtedly due to poor circumstances--the end of a
long trip, a brutally hot day, and a disappointing performance by
Tonerre de Zeus. However, I also found it to be among the more
Americanized of the European parks. (I found the Warner parks to be
similar in this regard.) Given your expressed tastes in this set of
trip reports I'm not sure if you'll like it, though Astérix is at least
a French cultural icon.
> That said, I do realize
> what Iąm missing out on, and look forward to that return visit when I
> can walk up to a renaissance masterwork and experience that ubiquitous
> aesthetic experience among tourists where one is so moved by the power
> of the artwork that they can only think, łwow, I bet that painting is
> really famous!˛ (Of course Iąm not really that cynical, as Iąm aware
> that there are many other visitors that will actually understand the
> art, and that when they see it are emotionally overpowered by the
> realization, łwow, I bet that painting is worth a lot of money!˛ Hey,
> at least when I visit a foreign city Iąm honest with myself over what
> I personally want to see and will genuinely appreciate, even if itąs a
> run-down local theme park.)
You are a cynical one... I agree that there is too much of a sense of
obligation to some tourism. Some iconic items at museums have proven to
be disappointing (don't get me or Janna started on the Hope Diamond) but
others are often compelling. Michelangelo's David made much more of an
impression on me than I ever thought it would.
> After the bike tour I hopped on the Metro and took it to the stop
> nearest Le Jardin dąAcclimatation, arriving a little after 3:00 that
> afternoon. For those not aware of what łJardin dąAcclimatation˛ is,
> itąs a gated gardens area very close to the main city center, dating
> back from the mid-1800ąs
This alone is more the kind of attraction that I like on foreign tours.
Gardens, relaxation spots, cafes, wandering through a city. Maybe my
being drawn to such spots is what gives me the impression of Europe as a
more relaxed place than the US.
> and has since acquired a moderate collection
> of family amusement rides including three small (but unique) roller
> coasters.
Ah hah, so an ulterior motive!
> Admission is less than ¤3, although you have to pay
> individually for each ride. I was a little bit let down when I first
> walked in, as I had been expecting a much more elaborate botanical
> gardens with a few rides integrated between the displays, but instead
> it was a bit better described as just a pleasant, tranquil, European
> style parkground with a few garden and animal exhibits
I don't mind this at all...
> and most of the
> rides concentrated in a somewhat cheap, carnivalesque corner of the
> parkŠ complete with your standard, small European park Disney IP knock-
> off attraction. It was a good place to visit and spend an hour or two,
> and was unlike anything Iąve come across in the US (amusement parks
> are meant to amuse us with bright colors and loud noises!), and would
> recommend it to anyone visiting Paris.
It's a bit of a shame that it has a carnival feeling. I'd like to hear
more about your impressions, then, of how it differs from a US
installation.
> I made my first ride of the trip the Tacot Express. This is an
> interesting little powered coaster from Soquet, and is generally what
> Iąd like to see more out of childrenąs coasters. The layout starts
> lower to the ground and uses the powered mechanisms to gradually climb
> upward as it makes its way around the figure-8 design. After the third
> curve the train takes a sudden dive down into an unforeseen
> underground tunnel that provides a surprising jolt for those in the
> back. The train speeds through the tunnel and then up and around the
> last curve, where we are then treated to a second circuit.
This doesn't strike me as an unusual layout for these powered coasters.
I expect you'll find many more of these during your European travels.
> Having gone through four tickets to do each of the coasters, I decided
> to use my last ticket on La Rivičre Enchantée, a small flume
> attraction. There are no drops, no water effects or special scene
> objects to look at, just a six minute leisurely ride around trees,
> ponds and the gardens (I noticed a unique species of duck inhabiting
> the same natural lagoon basin the ride floated around). Where else but
> in Europe?
Gilroy Gardens, perhaps, but yes they're rare in the US. Much more
common in Europe, which is one of the things I like so much about
European parks.
> Disneyland Paris (Part 1)
> Marne la Vallée, France Sunday, March 21st, 2010
>
> Iąve never been to a Disney park before. Iąve simply never had any
> real interest. Part of it might just be because Iąm outside of their
> target market, and without having been there earlier in my life, the
> sound of łitąs a small world˛ repeated endlessly doesnąt conjure happy
> childhood memories but teeth-grating annoyance. łThe Happiest Place on
> Earth˛? Come on, how can they advertise happiness like that, itąs not
> a commodity. The feeling I have is that Disney represents the backbone
> of a very shallow, materialistic view of human happiness that I want
> to avoid like the plague. It might also be political. The idea of
> giving money to a corporation as monolithic and as culturally
> imperialistic as Disney seems like a wrong use of my limited financial
> resources (and yes, I am using Śwrongą in the moral sense of the
> term). It could also just be that I perceive Disney as being too much
> fluff with not enough substance; sprawling, intricately themed
> sections consisting of all spectacles and gift shops, and then with
> only one or two real attractions actually worth paying admission for.
I had similar feelings prior to my actually visiting a Disney park with
an open mind. I never really responded to the "happiest place on Earth"
hype, nor did I have childhood memories that would give me a sense of
nostalgia. Moreover I knew that the thrill rides were likely toned down
from the kinds of experience that I craved, and I didn't think I'd
respond much to the theming, since themed attractions are generally my
least favorite.
But I found my actual experience to be much different. There's an
attention to quality and customer service at Disney that won me over.
Particularly the latter. They really do seem to want to treat the
customer well, and seem not to want to cheap out on the job, in an era
where almost every other park seems to be run by bean counters. (Of
course I'm well aware that Disney has their bean counters too, but they
make it far less apparent.) And though we may complain about their
prices, the fact of the matter is that average people can afford to
vacation there, and get an experience and a level of service that was
probably restricted to nobililty only a few centuries ago.
> The day started off rather cold and overcast. I made my way down Main
> Street U.S.A. quickly thanks to the lack of anything interesting to
> divert my attention. It seemed my first reservation about visiting a
> Disney park was coming true: is there anything to actually do that
> doesnąt involve buying Mickey Mouse ears in different themed gift
> shops? I trust the American versions of Main Street U.S.A. have a bit
> more going for them since they donąt have the advantage of being in a
> country where this style of themeing is a bit foreign and exciting to
> the local population, but based on what Iąve seen Iąm not so sure. The
> street cars werenąt anywhere to be seen, not that Iąd really count
> public transport as a destination attraction anyway. It is an
> impressively constructed entry midway, although for a theme park that
> emphasizes the spectacle of fantasy it was a curious choice for the
> opening section to be given such a mundane and ordinary setting.
> Thatąs not to say itąs without purpose, since the original was meant
> to evoke the childhood hometown that Walt Disney grew up in. So itąs
> not only mundane, but also egocentric.
>
> No! Bad coaster philosopher! I promised myself Iąd check my cynicism
> at the main gates, and look at what Iąm doing barely five minutes into
> the park. I should try to enjoy the full dayąs experience free of any
> prejudices and only after itąs over can I be allowed to start applying
> my usual critical analysis.
Yes, I agree that this is a better attitude, though admittedly I don't
find the Main Street theming very compelling myself. In fact I resent
the cultural implication that small town and rural environments are more
"authentically American" than urban ones--where in fact a large fraction
of the population dwells.
> So, first ride to review: Indiana Jones et le Temple du Péril. As
> promised, there was barely a five minute wait for this attraction. I
> suspect this probably was a bad choice to make my inaugural Disney
> experience, but it may have ultimately been for the best, being the
> single attraction in the park with strong roots in the traditional
> amusement park attraction milieu. For reasons beyond any rational
> comprehension, Disney asked Intamin to design for them a Pinfari
> Looping Star rip-off, complete with coffin-like ride vehicles, which
> they could then somehow theme to the Indiana Jones franchise.
Yes, this always seemed like a cheap attraction by Disney standards to
me (as always, my commentary here is predicated on what I've heard, not
what I've experienced myself). A small steel looper just seems so
unimpressive and carnival-y.
> [Phantom Manor]
> Another caveat to
> these preshows is everyone in line gets mixed up in the same room
> before exiting it again to board the ride vehicles, so if you just
> managed to be one of the last ones to be let in, you can probably edge
> your way along toward the exit door during the show and effectively
> line jump fifty people or so. Not that Iąm recommending that as at all
> ethical behavior.
Hmmm...I've never really seen anything wrong with this.
> Another small corridor past several Śillusoryą paintings (using the
> same technology any child with a special edition bubble gum card
> should be familiar with) we arrive at the vehicle loading platform.
I don't see why this should matter. Sometimes the best effects are
achieved with the simplest techniques. Witness Knoebels truck horn
effect for instance!
> Resultantly, Phantom Manor really canąt be
> Śscaryą or even ąsuspensefulą, only convey a sense of atmosphere and
> setting. But okay; F.W. Murnauąs Nosferatu or Stanley Kubrickąs The
> Shining adhered to those same principles, and those are possibly two
> of the greatest horror films ever committed to celluloid.
I agree with this principle. As far as I'm concerned it really should
all be atmosphere. I enjoy when they add details to a ride, but because
it's easy to miss details they shoult be incidental, not essential to
the ride experience. It's the overall feel that matters, not the
details.
> With so much
> happening at every corner that commands a momentąs attention, I felt
> busy and overworked to make sure I could see everything I was supposed
> to rather than given an opportunity to sit back and revel in the Grand
> Guignol suspense. That is, there are so many details rendering it
> impossible to appreciate the larger picture. I can clearly see why
> these Disney attractions inspire such huge fanbases, but for me
> personally, Nights in White Satin: The Trip will remain near and dear
> to my heart.
Mine too! However I don't mind there being many details as long as no
individual piece is essential to understanding what's going on. Extra
details can make multiple rides rewarding.
> [Big Thunder Mountain]
> So far itąs had an odd pacing structure pause for a lift, roll mostly
> downhill with a syncopated stop-start collection of quick turns and
> drops while it gets halfway there with the speed gained, before
> stopping for another lift. Itąs probably more a necessity of running
> this many trains when a lifthill block is needed every 30 seconds or
> so, and consequently the height differences canąt be too great either.
I find this is true of three-lift mine trains in general, so your
speculation might well be right.
> [Star Tours]
> Iąve never been a fan of rides that lock you in a box
> with a video screen at the front and bounce you around for a few
> minutes under the pretense that theyąre telling a Śstoryą.
This has always been my complaint about simulator style rides. Back
when I still watched TV shows about the amusement industry (something
I've pretty much given up unless there's some historical interest to it)
I recall simulator ride boosters talking about how they were so flexible
becasue the story could be varied infinitely. So why is it that so many
of them just invoke some flimsy premise that gives the designer an
excuse to have objects look like they're approaching the riders, or a
climax where there's a big fall? Because the story is tailored to the
technology, which is still pretty much limited to shaking the rider
around a bit. Simulator hype has never really panned out very well.
> It starts
> out as a supposed tour of the Star Wars universe, but very quickly
> veers off into that all-too familiar theme park narrative of
> łsomething has gone horribly wrong which weąll use as an excuse to set
> the rideąs program to Śpaint mixerą for several minutes˛.
Yes, this is pretty much what I'm thinking of. The story is built
around the technology so they need an excuse for generating chaos that
will allow them to shake the riders about a bit and if it's a 3-D
attraction, throw things at them. I find it wearisome, especially when
people tout the "creativity" of the medium.
> Walt Disney Studios Park
> Marne la Vallée, France Monday, March 22nd, 2010
>
> [Crush's Coaster]
> Then we get to the top, and the ride promptly suffers from what should
> probably be called łDark Knight Syndrome˛. Namely, after a greatly
> themed pre-ride section, it disappointingly culminates into a Coaster-
> in-a-Box.
Huh, I have to admit that I really liked New Jersey's Dark Knight,
though this may have simply been due to low expectations. I'd certainly
expect better of Disney.
> [Stunt show]
> Finishing with the show, which glorified special effects and Hollywood
> action tripe, I really do have to wonder if this entire park was even
> designed with a French market in mind. Total representation of French
> cinema: null.
Not that I know much about French cinema, but it doesn't seem like there
would be much that could be done around it in the format of a stunt
show? And yes I see the point that maybe they could have other nods to
French cinema elsewhere in the park, but this is supposed to be a park
for a particular US studio, isn't it? I can't fault Universal for not
representing Warner films in their parks, so can we fault Disney for
sticking to their own output?
> [Rock 'n Roller]
> Now that itąs over, I can only think, łWow! Was that reallyŠ
> necessary?˛ Itąs not an actively displeasurable experience, not really
> rough and only slightly uncomfortable where it starts to pull
> excessive lateral g-forces (and really, those are sort of the
> highlights of the ride), and the interior lighting and effects are
> decent, better than the disco balls in Crushąs Coaster at least. But
> thereąs absolutely zero purpose to the layout at all, itąs as if the
> designers and Imagineers forgot what a coaster is supposed to do so
> they just filled it in with whatever was easiest to design effects
> around.
Well, it is acutally a generic layout of sorts, since it is shared with
the Superman coaster in the Netherlands. With regard to coasters Disney
seems to have gone surprisingly generic in recent years.
> Makes me long for the
> days when I was riding the most cookie-cutter B&M sitdown layout
> imaginable, listening to Whole Lotta Love as we crested the top of the
> lift, and still thinking it was pretty great.
Another nod to Hard Rock Park! RIP!
> [Tower of Terror]
> It seems like it has potential but the preshow television just
> shows people get on an elevator, elevator gets struck by lightning,
> then elevator plummetsŠ thatąs not a Twilight Zone story, thatąs a
> technical malfunction as an excuse to theme a drop tower ride (but
> wait, the people show up as ghosts for some arbitrary reason
> afterward). I thought the main selling point of a Disney attraction is
> that they were expert storytellers, why am I getting all these
> pedestrian narratives in every themed attraction that tries to tell a
> story?
Though I've put up some criticism above, I'm definitely with you on
this. I think the "story" fetish is very overrated, as evidenced by my
disdain for most simulator rides and my preference for an overall
setting than a need to follow details. There really is only so much
story that one can tell in a short attraction anyway, and the aspects of
really good storytelling--such as characterization, pathos, etc.--are
simply going to be lost. I think it's OK to *have* a story, but it
should be something that needn't be fully understood to enjoy the
experience, as with any other detail.
> Did I say łdrop˛? I meant more like łbounce˛. The car bounces us up
> and down several times as if on an oversized Frog Hopper, then pulls
> us back all the way to the top, where the doors open and we get to
> look out over the park and see Space Mountain off in the distance
> while the cameras take our picture, and then it bounces us down the
> shaft again, each time providing a fun boost of weightlessness, but by
> this point everyone is laughing instead of screaming. It repeats the
> cycle once more before returning us to the lower level, the star field
> returning as we re-approach the doors, the narration closing out the
> Twilight Zone theme (complete with the beatnik percussion) and the
> experience is over. Fun ride, but not in any way terrifying.
Hmmm...I wonder if the program is simply different here. I remember
pretty substantial drops on the US Tower of Terrors. Not necessarily
something that would terrify me, but certainly enough to scare the GP.
> But I did get to
> catch the Cars Quatre Roues Rallye, a Zamperla Demolition Derby that
> basically replicates the motions of any normal spinning flat ride, but
> with the unique exception of that the cars run on a figure-eight
> track. Iąm not sure exactly how the technology works that allows them
> to make the switchover in the middle of the figure- eight, but it
> results in a chaotic scene with some extremely narrow calls as the
> cars dive between each otherąs paths. Good ride, although the low
> capacity probably hurts it on busier operating days. A video clip I
> took on board the ride can be watched here.
I don't know the secret, but this isn't exactly new, is it? Just a
modern variation on the Tea Cup/Cuddle-up ride? I do think Zamperla's
take on it (I've ridden one of these at Wildwood) is brilliant, a
perfect melding of ride experience to theme.
> Disneyland Paris (Part 2)
> Marne la Vallée, France Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010
>
> ["it's a small world"]
>
> But okay, so itąs a ride that celebrates the economic push for
> globalization that robs nations of their political sovereignty while
> promoting superficial cultural differences that should exist only as a
> novelty for the industrialized western world to gawk at.
Now this strikes me as taking postmodern cynicism too far. Surely in
the context in which this ride originated, it was a plea for unity in a
post-WWII/Cold War world. Annoying as the result might be, is that
really to be dismissed so easily?
> So did I enjoy łitąs a small world˛? Let the fact that despite a less
> than 10 minutes queue I only rode it once during my entire stay at
> Disney speak for itself. My immediate repulsion towards the concept of
> the attraction did make me stop for a moment to consider what does
> seem to be a rather odd sociological trend. Consider an individual who
> is always happy. No matter the circumstances, they always come to work
> with a smile on their face and song in their heart, and whose only
> unrequited desire is the ability to lift the spirits of coworkers who
> have the misfortune of lacking the same quantities of mirth as
> themselves have the good fortune to be bestowed with. If youąre like
> most adults, your impression of this individual will not be, łwhat a
> kind, strong-willed personality; I wish I could always be as happy as
> they!˛ Your impression will be to keep as far away from this
> individual as possible, and perhaps to even wish some ill-fortune to
> befall them in order for the sake of everyone else around them to stop
> acting so silly and start behaving like a real human being, with the
> proper amounts of depression, doubt and self-loathing that should
> always entail. And there you have the reaction to łitąs a small
> world˛.
Well, it's interesting. I can see where you're coming from, but I had
the complete opposite reaction to the "it's a small world" versions I've
seen. I completely succumbed to it, in spite of its obvious annoyance
level. I think it comes down to an experience I had in my early college
years where I was consumed by cynical detachment. I eventually found
that such cynicism stole my ability to experience joy. It took me a
long time to adjust away from this. In the end for my own pyschological
health I found it was better to let myself be immersed in the experience
as it happened, and save any analysis (which I still do) for another
time.
> [Pirates]
>
> Near the terminus of the queue is the final
> loading platform showroom, and this represented one of the couple of
> places in the park in which I could truly understand why Disney
> attracts such a rabid fanbase. You know how in dark rides that are
> supposed to have night scenes the lighting technicians always get too
> proud and decide to put show lighting in every single corner of the
> room, resulting in too bright of a setting while also illuminating all
> the wiring and prop backings that are not supposed to be seen? That is
> not the case with this room, which uses just enough yellow and red
> lighting exclusively from the lanterns set along the pathway to create
> an exotic glow against the stonework walls and tropical foliage, while
> not enough to reach to the ceiling, which my eyes were telling me was
> a authentic starry night sky and not just a ceiling painted black and
> with small LED lights implanted into it.
Yes, I think they do this well. Lighting is very important as a setter
of atmosphere. You should build the special effects around the
atmosphere rather than vice versa.
> (After enough time had
> elapsed and my eyes adjusted from the outdoor brightness to this low-
> light interior I could see the outlines of some ventilation units next
> to Ursa Major.) The humidity and that aroma of running water from the
> nearby flume channel (I know water is technically odorless but
> hopefully you kind of know what Iąm talking about)
I know exactly what you talk about, and it's another important aspect of
atmosphere.
> contribute to the
> creation of what many themed attractions seem to be sorely missing:
> atmosphere. Yes, for a few moments in that showroom I felt as though I
> really could have been transported to a different time and place, and
> without an overload of different props and effects whizzing around my
> head as on Phantom Manor I was able to simply take it all in.
This is as it should be when it's done right. The proper result of a
themed experience, you're mentally transported away from your present
situation to a different one. It's rare to see it done right, but
Disney probably does it better than most.
> I am told by television theme park specials that what makes a Disney
> ride such as Pirates of the Caribbean so special is the fact that itąs
> not just a series of elaborate gags as you will find at other theme
> parks, but that huge amounts of time and energy are spent in making
> sure a story is told throughout the attraction.
> [And then a deconstruction of the story and how it's implemented here]
Once again I agree with you. Story is overrated, atmosphere is all.
After this I skip a few positive reviews of several attractions. I'm
glad you did find something to enjoy; I just don't really have much to
respond to.
> I asked
> myself whether or not I enjoyed Disneyland Paris.
>
> Yes, I concluded. I genuinely did. While it might be easy to find
> criticism against the Disney Corporation as a whole, I think itąs
> clear that the people that work in and design these parks have a
> genuine love for what they do and for creating the best guest
> experience they possibly know how. While that might sound like an
> obvious observation, one look at other branches of the Disney Empire
> might not so quickly reveal the same thing, pretty much across the
> globe save for a certain studio in Burbank, California. It was also
> more of a European experience than I may have imagined, taking some
> considerations of the continentąs culture and fitting it into the
> equation, rather than simply trying to export an American product to
> France with no afterthought.
I'm glad you found this. There is certainly plenty to criticize about
Disney, but I do think they're trying to give customers what they want.
It may be what people want that is to be criticized--it sounds like
you're going to get into that later on, and I may well have more to say
about that myself.
> Surprisingly, this would be more of a
> problem at many European-owned parks I would later travel to, which
> seemed to be attempting to replicate the American model of theme park
> as closely as they could only with less success.
It's intersting you should say so. I definitely found certain parks to
have a feel I associated as "European" and others to really be trying to
be Americanized. I'll be interested to see if your impressions match
mine.
Thanks again for the reports. I'm probably your ideal audience; I enjoy
the level of detail and the thoughtfulness. I hope you keep posting!
--
Dave Sandborg
Remove Spam-away to respond via e-mail.
Jeremy
reading it, partly because I was trying to focus on getting reports on
Vienna and the Wiener Prater done.
A general comment on the writing of these, I actually finished the
first three parts several months ago, but then never had time to
finish the last part before I had to put it aside and deal with
traveling around Spain and the UK. By the time I finished the last
part I had finished with Europe, had a lot more experience with other
parks under my belt, and found that my memories of Disney had softened
even more, perhaps because it was my first full-sized European park
experience.
About the Jardin d'Acclimatation, a bit of my initial disappointment
was because it looked like I was paying to get into a public park,
there wasn't much that struck me about the grounds as being any
different from any other European park grounds. There were some animal
exhibits so that may have counted for the small upfront admission fee.
A few of the rides (such as the Dragon and Enchanted River) were
scattered deeper in the park and well-integrated with the landscape,
but the rest were mostly production-model Zamperla or other rides
squeezed together along a midway. I'd expect Gilroy Gardens to be
superior to Jardin but as I said it's still a pleasant place to visit
while in the city.
Your comments about your original hesitations towards Disney but then
eventual enjoyment of the place I think mirror mine fairly well. I am
surprised to hear that you've heard the Paris version ranks lower to
other versions, as most of the qualities I enjoyed most about DLP
(integration of European culture, larger and more intense coasters,
plenty of small side pathways to explore off the main-midways) I don't
think I could really get at other Disney parks. The original Anaheim
park I'd like to see, probably more for historical reasons
(Matterhorn, etc.), but Magic Kingdom in FL doesn't have much appeal
to me after I've done DLP, are there any qualities at that facility
that DLP doesn't I might not be aware of?
The point about the shifting paintings in Phantom Manor was not just
that special effects should work, but that we shouldn't know how they
work. That was my general problem with Phantom Manor, I could only
think of it from a mechanical point of view; every object in there I
was judging based on how creative a solution they came up with to
achieve the effect, and in cases where I couldn't see a solution I
wanted to know how it was done. Even if the ride is atmospheric in
some way, once I've jumped the psychological barrier of looking at it
for the technology, it's sort of hard to jump back. I agree that
simple attractions such as Knoebel's rides (or the two Fantasyland
dark rides I mentioned at the end of DLP pt2) can be very effective in
this regard because the technology never needs to become a
consideration.
The reason I expected more French cinema was because I did see a lot
of references to other studio's work. One example was there were a lot
of references to The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, which is owned by
Paramount, and Titantic plus many other in Cinemagic. Of course it's
been pointed out that many of these films do have strong European
influences in them (GBU in particular) but as long as they were buying
rights to some of these movies I'm wishing they picked up a few more
that would be distinctly French or European rather than Europeans
working with or emulating Hollywood.
I suspected that might have been the case with the Tower of Terror
since I could have sworn I remember reading reports which gave me the
impression that free-fall lasted much longer than 20 feet or so.
The post-modern cynicism towards It's a Small World was intended to be
taken too far, the contrast between the two viewpoints was intended
for comedic effect. For the most part I understand why people like the
ride and don't begrudge them their reasons, and I certainly am not the
kind of individual that would in real life begrudge anyone for any
legitimate happiness. Which is why I turned the analysis around at one
point and questioned "why cynicism towards happiness?" The one part
where I was writing honest criticism against an arbitarily happy ride
like it's a small world was the last paragraph:
"Or perhaps there is legitimacy to this prevailing skepticism against
happiness. For most of the corporate world the concept of ‘happiness’
has been objectified into a consumer product ready to be packaged,
marketed and sold to the general public, with Disney most likely being
at the forefront of this campaign. It’s nothing against happiness in
and of itself, but the sentiment is that real happiness has to be
earned; a severely handicapped person who finds picking up and
dropping leaves to be the greatest fulfillment in the world may in
fact be the happiest person alive, but we would almost never say that
this person is leading the ideal of a ‘good life’. When I see joy and
celebration simply floating around with no apparent reason, I find
there is something greatly suspect about that, and it therefore rides
such as “it’s a small world” become a target of derision in order to
see if any holes can be poked through the joyful façade to discover
what underlying machinations exist."
I probably should have expanded on that a bit more, but I hope my
point makes sense, and I think I promised a further analysis of themed
entertainment in general. Currently reading up on Umberto Eco's
"Travels in Hyperreality" before sitting down to figure out what my
own argument should be. By the way I do intend to work in the industry
someday so it's not like I'm doing all this writing on the topics just
as a hobby for my own amusement. :)
I will continue to write MANY more European park reviews, I think by
my count I made it to some 35 different parks in 9 countries before
returning Stateside. Might even have Wiener Prater ready by later
tonight, been procrastinating a bit...
ansley
single fav Disney park, and I've found many others that feel the same
not counting those who've been to Japan. :-) I never knew of it
being lower ranked then other Disney parks, I guess I've spoken to a
different group of people.
I just had a discussion with someone about DLP at the recent ACE
Convention in Pittsburgh. The person I spoke with had asked me what
my was my favorite Disney park, after I told him that the ACE Con at
WDW was probably one of my favorite ACE Conventions. Unlike many of
the traditional park fans at the Convention, we were two that really
liked Disney/Universal etc. I told him that two of my two favorite
theme parks were IoA and Disneyland Paris. I explained that I loved
the theming of the parks, the attention to detail, and the overall
quality of most of the main attractions. Well, that's the short
version.
IMHO many of the versions of Disney rides at Disneyland Paris are
better than their counterparts in the US, mainly due to extra theming,
space, attention to detail. Some of that is true at Disneyland as
well. I really love the extras at DLP that you don't find at
Disneyland but especially at Magic Kingdom. With that said,
Disneyland does have a better ride package....more rides and unique
ones not found in Paris. I also prefer the overall theming and layout
of DLP. One exanmple is the Main Street, the castle, and the arcades
behind the shops. That area of DLP is top notch. Visit the orginal
Disneyland or especially Disneyland Hong Kong to see how minimal the
Main Street area is compared to DLP. The person I was speaking to
found my comments interesting, he too is a big fan of IoA, and told me
something I did not know. The design team for IoA was, for the most
part, the same design team for Disneyland Paris in the early
nineties. They had left Disney and gone to Universal! I found this
interesting, but it makes sense, considering the quality of theming in
both parks.
On the other hand, the Disney Studios park pretty much...sucked...by
comparsion. You can tell it was built on the cheap, easily the worst
Disney park I've visited. (I've visted them all except the two in
Japan) However, I've heard they've added some things since my last
visit in 2003. Disney makes good improvements to most of it's parks
as they grow. I'm a pretty big fan of DCA, always liked it but I
didn't visit until over 2 years after it opened whereas my first visit
to Disney Studios in Paris was only 2 weeks after it opened!
Ted
Mike Kallay
> the backstory… well, not so
> great. It seems like it has potential but the preshow television just
> shows people get on an elevator, elevator gets struck by lightning,
> then elevator plummets… that’s not a Twilight Zone story, that’s a
> technical malfunction as an excuse to theme a drop tower ride (but
> wait, the people show up as ghosts for some arbitrary reason
> afterward).
The elevator & its riders get zapped into the Twilight Zone. Have you
ever watched the original series? I'd say this story-line is directly
out of the series. In fact, the imagineers watched all 156 episodes 5
times to develop the story & the mood of the ride.
> Did I say “drop”? I meant more like “bounce”. The car bounces us up
> and down several times as if on an oversized Frog Hopper, then pulls
> us back all the way to the top,
That wasn't the program when I rode it. There were a couple of 100
feet drops in there. I wonder if the customer base over there made
them tone it down? That's not the way it's run anywhere else.
> Then the
> drop does hit, and it’s only 20 feet deep before it pulls up to bounce
> us around some more, and by that point any lingering traces of tension
> have all been dissolved.
Not sure how you could tell depth with no reference points. You know
the elevator system pulls you down faster than free-fall, right?
> From the outside I noticed the doors that
> open when the cars are at the top of the tower are still a good 50
> feet below the actual top of the tower, and I had to wonder why they
> didn’t use that extra vertical space they had built.
Elevator equipment?
You do know parks have lockers for the baggage you bring to the park?
Leave your cynical pessimism in there next time;)
/mike
mamoosh
> You do know parks have lockers for the baggage you bring to the park?
> Leave your cynical pessimism in there next time;)
Oooooh, snap! : - )
Mike Kallay
> I've always ranked Disneyland Pais (the park, not the resort) as my
> single fav Disney park, and I've found many others that feel the same
> not counting those who've been to Japan. :-) I never knew of it
> being lower ranked then other Disney parks, I guess I've spoken to a
> different group of people.
It's certainly the most beautiful! Everything from the setting of the
teacups to the amazing castle, to the little elements like open
prairie space in Frontierland just make it so unique. Disneyland is my
favorite, but DP is easily the most beautiful.
> On the other hand, the Disney Studios park pretty much...sucked...by
> comparsion. You can tell it was built on the cheap, easily the worst
> Disney park I've visited. (I've visted them all except the two in
> Japan) However, I've heard they've added some things since my last
> visit in 2003. Disney makes good improvements to most of it's parks
> as they grow. I'm a pretty big fan of DCA, always liked it but I
> didn't visit until over 2 years after it opened whereas my first visit
> to Disney Studios in Paris was only 2 weeks after it opened!
>
> Ted
Agreed. DS still sucks, but they are slowly expanding it. Did you ever
visit Disney MGM in the early days? Before ToT and RRC? Talk about
suck. I think sometimes we forget that very few parks open like IOA --
amazingly detailed and full of amazing rides on day one. Disneyland
probably sucked the first few years too. I'm excited about DCA and
can't wait to take my kids there when all this new stuff gets
implemented.
/mike
Mark Rosenzweig
As parks like DSP and DCA are finally starting to grow into more of a
full day park, it is somewhat ironic that a "total" park like IOA has
gone so long before finally getting another major edition in Harry
Shopperland.
Jeremy
> ever watched the original series? I'd say this story-line is directly
> out of the series. In fact, the imagineers watched all 156 episodes 5
> times to develop the story & the mood of the ride.
The mood was there, not sure about the story. Actually, for some odd
reason I recall the entire narrative along the ride (preshow and
during the cycle) was in English, no French subtitles or anything. I
guess they figured they weren't missing too much, because what I
described (elevator struck by lighting, falls, shot of people showing
up as ghosts, no narration making a causal connection between events)
was all there was, and if it took watching all 156 episodes 5 times to
develop that story for the ride, then I'd have to assume that
Imagineering pays by the hour.
> Not sure how you could tell depth with no reference points. You know
> the elevator system pulls you down faster than free-fall, right?
I can't make an exact measurement, but it's easy to guess within a
reasonable degree based on the strength of the downward force
multiplied by the time it is sustained, especially having been on many
other faster than free-fall towers. There may have been one big drop
of 40 feet or so, followed by lots of bouncing up and down in the 15
to 25 foot range.
> You do know parks have lockers for the baggage you bring to the park?
> Leave your cynical pessimism in there next time;)
I did use it the first day, at which I found they closed the left
luggage at the same time the park closed, and since I had just
finished riding everything I had to leave all my stuff there overnight
and pick it up at the end of the next day. Quite glad I didn't leave
my cynicism in there with it because otherwise I wouldn't have had the
meager enjoyment of cursing out my first night having no change of
clothes, toothbrush, computer, etc...
David Sandborg
accept my friendly critiques. I did miss the satire element of your
small world section. (BTW, I'm a big fan of Eco's fiction, haven't read
his academic stuff...) I really look forward to Prater and other
reports. I haven't even experienced the parks in this series personally
and yet I was excited to read your reports. Even more so for the parks
I've had the privilege to experience for myself.
I may be wrong about general reactions to Disneyland Paris. Not having
been there myself I hadn't kept very careful track of peoples'
reactions. I remember the original Euro-Disney being a troubled
enterprise, and probably also remember Disney Studios having been panned
somewhat, but it sounds like Disneyland Paris itself is pretty well
regarded.
In article
<c29759ae-3e7e-4449...@k39g2000yqd.googlegroups.com>,
Jeremy <jkthom...@gmail.com> wrote:
> The original Anaheim
> park I'd like to see, probably more for historical reasons
> (Matterhorn, etc.), but Magic Kingdom in FL doesn't have much appeal
> to me after I've done DLP, are there any qualities at that facility
> that DLP doesn't I might not be aware of?
Well, I certainly can't comment about DLP. I can certainly say that I
had a blast at Florida's Magic Kingdom. There was a definite aspect of
allowing myself to be fully immersed in the experience rather than
letting critiques surface at the time. Of the Florida complex, Epcot
was definitely my favorite, but I think it's certainly something to be
taken with reservations as the cultural imperialism accusation is
undoubtedly apt.
GodsOnSafari
> reason I recall the entire narrative along the ride (preshow and
> during the cycle) was in English, no French subtitles or anything. I
> guess they figured they weren't missing too much, because what I
> described (elevator struck by lighting, falls, shot of people showing
> up as ghosts, no narration making a causal connection between events)
> was all there was, and if it took watching all 156 episodes 5 times to
> develop that story for the ride, then I'd have to assume that
> Imagineering pays by the hour.
My ride in November were in French - my guess is that it can toggle
french/english language programs in the way that some of the other
attractions there do.
> I can't make an exact measurement, but it's easy to guess within a
> reasonable degree based on the strength of the downward force
> multiplied by the time it is sustained, especially having been on many
> other faster than free-fall towers. There may have been one big drop
> of 40 feet or so, followed by lots of bouncing up and down in the 15
> to 25 foot range.
Did you only ride once? Just wondering.
Jeremy
I think I rode four, maybe five times. I suspected they must be able
to toggle between French and English but it seemed like I was getting
English every time. Drop cycles were also pretty much identical every
ride, and no single burst of weightlessness lasted more than one
second before it pulled us back up again for another quick bounce.
GodsOnSafari
> was because it looked like I was paying to get into a public park,
> there wasn't much that struck me about the grounds as being any
> different from any other European park grounds. There were some animal
> exhibits so that may have counted for the small upfront admission fee.
> A few of the rides (such as the Dragon and Enchanted River) were
> scattered deeper in the park and well-integrated with the landscape,
> but the rest were mostly production-model Zamperla or other rides
> squeezed together along a midway. I'd expect Gilroy Gardens to be
> superior to Jardin but as I said it's still a pleasant place to visit
> while in the city.
Did you spend some time walking around the gardens? There's a pretty
substantial animal exhibit besides the aviary, including some bears.
Further back, there's a Japanese garden and a few other items. Its
gotta be 15-20 acres as a whole.
> The reason I expected more French cinema was because I did see a lot
> of references to other studio's work. One example was there were a lot
> of references to The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, which is owned by
> Paramount, and Titantic plus many other in Cinemagic. Of course it's
> been pointed out that many of these films do have strong European
> influences in them (GBU in particular) but as long as they were buying
> rights to some of these movies I'm wishing they picked up a few more
> that would be distinctly French or European rather than Europeans
> working with or emulating Hollywood.
I dunno. I don't think people are going to Disney Studios Paris to
celebrate that which is necessarily "french". Clearly there are
allusions elsewhere to other studios films, but in general I think it
is an unabashed celebration of American cinema. I don't think that's
terribly wrong either; how many parks in Europe feature Wild West
sections? Virtually all of them do, even when it makes no sense.
> I probably should have expanded on that a bit more, but I hope my
> point makes sense, and I think I promised a further analysis of themed
> entertainment in general.
I know what you're getting at, and to me it borders on Geir Hongroish
intellectual elitism (that might require some googling, I'll admit).
Reverting back to the atmosphere vs. narrative argument - IASM
certainly isn't a ride with narrative. Its original version was
constructed as a simplistic celebration of man's equality for the
World's Fair in NY, as I'm sure you're aware. But like a great pop
song, it doesn't necessarily need to bury itself under miles of strata
disguised as emotional depth. Would its a small world benefit by
recognizing man's inhumanity to itself, or by trying to somehow figure
in our mortality into the process of how we derive joy? Of course not.
We're talking about its a small world. The ride translates brilliantly
to people of all age groups and nationalities because the concept -
unity amongst the people of earth - is a universal for most human
beings. It then shouldn't be so surprising to see so many clones pop
up at parks all over the world (Europa and Efteling having probably
the most well known).
Jeremy
> substantial animal exhibit besides the aviary, including some bears.
> Further back, there's a Japanese garden and a few other items. Its
> gotta be 15-20 acres as a whole.
I spent a bit of time, made one big loop around the back mostly to hit
the Dragon, since that was my only day in Paris I felt I needed to
spend more time walking around the city. I don't even want to sound
like I'm putting down Jardin d'Acclimatation at all since I liked the
place a lot, it was just a comment about how it struck me as better
described as "parklands" than a garden, not that that in anyway makes
it bad.
> I dunno. I don't think people are going to Disney Studios Paris to
> celebrate that which is necessarily "french". Clearly there are
> allusions elsewhere to other studios films, but in general I think it
> is an unabashed celebration of American cinema. I don't think that's
> terribly wrong either; how many parks in Europe feature Wild West
> sections? Virtually all of them do, even when it makes no sense.
Well as an American who probably watches as many French movies per
year as Hollywood blockbusters, and was pleased by some of the cross-
cultural touches seen in DLP the day prior, I was a bit let down to
find a park that appeared to be imported on the cheap from the
counterparts on American shores. I'm not a Disneyland Paris marketing
director so I don't know if that is what the local population wanted
or not, but I do know it's not what I wanted. ;)
> I know what you're getting at, and to me it borders on Geir Hongroish
> intellectual elitism (that might require some googling, I'll admit).
> Reverting back to the atmosphere vs. narrative argument - IASM
> certainly isn't a ride with narrative. Its original version was
> constructed as a simplistic celebration of man's equality for the
> World's Fair in NY, as I'm sure you're aware. But like a great pop
> song, it doesn't necessarily need to bury itself under miles of strata
> disguised as emotional depth. Would its a small world benefit by
> recognizing man's inhumanity to itself, or by trying to somehow figure
> in our mortality into the process of how we derive joy? Of course not.
> We're talking about its a small world. The ride translates brilliantly
> to people of all age groups and nationalities because the concept -
> unity amongst the people of earth - is a universal for most human
> beings. It then shouldn't be so surprising to see so many clones pop
> up at parks all over the world (Europa and Efteling having probably
> the most well known).
When it's sold using that language it's hard for me to find argument
against it, and I doubt there's any potentially better modified
version of It's a Small World that could exist. I think where I'm
coming from is that Small World was to me the most representative
single attraction of that Disney mentality of "endless and infinite
celebration just because you're paying to be at Disney, the self-
proclaimed happiest place on Earth!" Based on the replies I've gotten
so far I may have approached my assessment of the attraction a bit
wrong because I assumed most visitors over the age of 12 will approach
it with at least a bit of skepticism, so when I went to write up a
review I wanted to start off poking a bit of fun at the ride, which
admittedly is rather easy to do, then stop and ask if there's a
legitimate reason for doing so. But if you've always enjoyed the ride
for the pure and simple celebration that it is then I probably don't
have many insights of much value to offer for it, as I only rode it
once with just a marginal understanding of what it was about before it
began, and a feeling as I went through it of, "this is a bit sappy and
naive" (I'd find it hard to believe I'm the only person that's thought
that about IASW before), I figured I'd write about that experience
hoping others could relate and then decide if that was an appropriate
reaction or if I should have been wrapped up in the experience.
Joe Schwartz
> When it's sold using that language it's hard for me to find argument
> against it, and I doubt there's any potentially better modified
> version of It's a Small World that could exist.
IASW would be improved immensely by turning it into a shooting game.
GOS
> the Dragon, since that was my only day in Paris I felt I needed to
> spend more time walking around the city. I don't even want to sound
> like I'm putting down Jardin d'Acclimatation at all since I liked the
> place a lot, it was just a comment about how it struck me as better
> described as "parklands" than a garden, not that that in anyway makes
> it bad.
It extends past where Dragon is located - at the outer boundary
there's some pretty serious construction going on for what, I have no
idea. Out there be all sorts of additional gardens. Its a garden park
with some rides setup almost funfair style, I'll agree. But out back,
there's an equestrian center, puppet theater, a small pond/lake, etc.
> Well as an American who probably watches as many French movies per
> year as Hollywood blockbusters, and was pleased by some of the cross-
> cultural touches seen in DLP the day prior, I was a bit let down to
> find a park that appeared to be imported on the cheap from the
> counterparts on American shores. I'm not a Disneyland Paris marketing
> director so I don't know if that is what the local population wanted
> or not, but I do know it's not what I wanted. ;)
I hear ya. And TBH, the crowds haven't turned up for it either. Maybe
you're onto something?
(BTW, speaking of French movie theme parks - had you heard about
Futuroscope?)
> When it's sold using that language it's hard for me to find argument
> against it, and I doubt there's any potentially better modified
> version of It's a Small World that could exist. I think where I'm
> coming from is that Small World was to me the most representative
> single attraction of that Disney mentality of "endless and infinite
> celebration just because you're paying to be at Disney, the self-
> proclaimed happiest place on Earth!"
But aren't you paying the entrance money to be entertained? I see the
cynicism, but dude, they're amusement parks. They're all out there to
get your money, no matter if they're run by families or by corporate
media giants. Yes, obviously iasw in all iterations operates to
entertain at pretty much the most base level. But really, roller
coasters do too. In fact, pretty much all attractions do. I've never
seen someone come off a ride and say that it made them question their
beliefs in any particular deity or whatever. Amusement rides, if they
aren't pure thrillers, basically just reinforce ideas we already have.
Jeremy
> cynicism, but dude, they're amusement parks. They're all out there to
> get your money, no matter if they're run by families or by corporate
> media giants. Yes, obviously iasw in all iterations operates to
> entertain at pretty much the most base level. But really, roller
> coasters do too. In fact, pretty much all attractions do. I've never
> seen someone come off a ride and say that it made them question their
> beliefs in any particular deity or whatever. Amusement rides, if they
> aren't pure thrillers, basically just reinforce ideas we already have.
I'm always paying money to be entertained, that neither means that all
entertainment takes identical forms, or that it is beyond any sort of
deeper analysis, even that which can't even be classified as also
'art' (which I'm sure true Disney fans would want to take their
beloved attractions that far; I certainly am one to do that with my
favorite coasters). Even within the amusement park industry, there are
many different ways to achieve this, and Disney's unfortunately seems
reduced to the idea, "if people are paying us to make them happy,
let's just put them in an environment where everything else around
them behaves in a really happy way for no reason and, if memetic
theory holds true, that should rub off on them." Obviously that's a
HUGE simplification of what really goes on at Disney, but if there was
one place (outside of the parades and marketing devices) that I felt
that was most true, it was at IASW. Even then, I had to question if
that was necessarily a bad thing, and I do think probably back in the
1960's when it was still new I would have declared IASW a good ride
with a positive message. But as that song has repeated tirelessly for
decades on end, it no longer holds exactly the same meaning it once
did and is now one of the national anthems for that Disney ideology
that happiness in and of itself has somehow been taken out of
abstraction and sold as a numerically identifiable commodity. Other
businesses may offer promises that you'll be happy, but at Disney it
can at times feel like I'm being directly sold "happiness". I
especially don't see how a critique of that sort of ideology can be
labeled as cynicism or is in someway elitist. On another thought, even
high art isn't supposed to make you believe in a certain lofty message
or something like that, then it just becomes a political tool and the
entire conception of 'art' is lost. Considering Disney is still more
entertainment than art I especially wouldn't expect any sort of deeper
message out of any of their rides, nor have I been demanding one. In
fact, if I were judging rides on that merit, IASW would be one of the
more commendable for the themes of world peace and so on that are
never found in any other attraction.
PS I hope this doesn't come off as overly intense or hostile, I'm just
trying to write a clear argument that I hope clears up any ambiguities
in my position, and I do see where you're coming from.
Keith Hopkins
--
Keith Hopkins
suss...@sssssssssgmail.ssssssssscom
[clear up the hissing to email]
"You don't need fashion designers when you
are young. Have faith in your own bad taste."
John Waters
Wolf
> intellectual elitism (that might require some googling, I'll admit).
> Reverting back to the atmosphere vs. narrative argument - IASM
> certainly isn't a ride with narrative. Its original version was
> constructed as a simplistic celebration of man's equality for the
> World's Fair in NY, as I'm sure you're aware. But like a great pop
> song, it doesn't necessarily need to bury itself under miles of strata
> disguised as emotional depth. Would its a small world benefit by
> recognizing man's inhumanity to itself, or by trying to somehow figure
> in our mortality into the process of how we derive joy? Of course not.
It would greatly benefit by being about 5 minutes shorter, or having some way of making the damned dolls stop singing.
--
|\-/|
<0 0>
=(o)=
-Wolf
Pathetic BaSSclown
> It would greatly benefit by being about 5 minutes shorter, or having some way of making the damned dolls stop singing.
Or grenade launchers.
Wolf
"Pathetic BaSSclown" <bassis...@hotmail.com> wrote in message news:c0fc6c0a-1414-44b4...@w31g2000yqb.googlegroups.com...
On Jul 18, 8:53 pm, "Wolf" <bill.buss...@gmail.com> wrote:
> It would greatly benefit by being about 5 minutes shorter, or having some way of making the damned dolls stop singing.
Or grenade launchers.
-------
Singing grenade launchers?
Pathetic BaSSclown
> Singing grenade launchers?
I would probably be singing as I was launching grenades, yes.
ri...@aol.com
> PS I hope this doesn't come off as overly intense or hostile, I'm just
> trying to write a clear argument that I hope clears up any ambiguities
> in my position, and I do see where you're coming from.
Fascinating reports (all 4).
I have to say I don't envy you the task of having your first Disney
park experience in their current corporate climate. Historically,
Disney has not always been the global, bullet-proof commodity it now
is. In the 70s the parks and the re-releases of the animated classics
were the only good things they had going. Their live-action films
ranged from pretty good (Freaky Friday) to pretty desperate
(Superdad?), but always G-rated and out of step with the swinging
seventies (even for kids ;-)), and their attempt to jump into
post-"Star Wars" modern times circa 1980 resulted in the massive
misfire of "The Black Hole." Anyone remember "The Black Cauldron?"
Before Disney Channel, before Touchstone, and *way* before Pixar, the
one "Disney" thing everyone *wanted* to spend money on was their
parks.
And also the experience of Disneyland (I've only been to the original)
has varied greatly from my first experience in 1970 at age 5 to my
last in 2008 at age 43, particularly the difference from childhood
(when everything was rather overwhelming as a wee bairn) to college
age, visits with family vs. visits with friends, and the unfortunate
passage of attractions into "Yesterland." I think it worked better
for me then (I'd pick early 80s) since it's the local park I'm least-
likely to visit now, though I've recently developed a strange
affection for "The Enchanted Tiki Room" that I can't quite explain.
Rik
GodsOnSafari
> entertainment takes identical forms, or that it is beyond any sort of
> deeper analysis, even that which can't even be classified as also
> 'art' (which I'm sure true Disney fans would want to take their
> beloved attractions that far; I certainly am one to do that with my
> favorite coasters). Even within the amusement park industry, there are
> many different ways to achieve this, and Disney's unfortunately seems
> reduced to the idea, "if people are paying us to make them happy,
> let's just put them in an environment where everything else around
> them behaves in a really happy way for no reason and, if memetic
> theory holds true, that should rub off on them."
I don't think the idea is to use iasw as subversive crowd control. I
think the ride works (in that people enjoy it) because it has a
simple, generally universal, and pleasing ethos. Honestly, I'm not
sure what you're criticizing them of here. They try to provide a
positive and happy environment? Heaven forbid.
> But as that song has repeated tirelessly for
> decades on end, it no longer holds exactly the same meaning it once
> did and is now one of the national anthems for that Disney ideology
> that happiness in and of itself has somehow been taken out of
> abstraction and sold as a numerically identifiable commodity.
But this is not an actual criticism of the ride. This is you
transposing beliefs about ad wizardry and the marketing of "happiness"
in the modern world onto a thematically simple ride that doesn't seem
to actually advertise anything. In the case of Paris' ride, it doesn't
even feature the inclusion of traditional Disney characters. Mind you,
the original was constructed in a corporately sponsored building in a
corporately sponsored exposition. Did it never deserve to mean
anything? Are you arguing to a classical ideal?
> On another thought, even
> high art isn't supposed to make you believe in a certain lofty message
> or something like that, then it just becomes a political tool and the
> entire conception of 'art' is lost.
High art often features political or social themes. They may be as
simple as questioning the foundations of belief and structure (as
dadaism did, for instance), but art without any awareness isn't art. I
will say that I'm quite interested in how you review Europa Park,
given that one of its core aspects is as technical demonstration for
Mack rides sales.
whois charlieatlantic
>> I'm always paying money to be entertained, that neither means that all
>> entertainment takes identical forms, or that it is beyond any sort of
>> deeper analysis, even that which can't even be classified as also
>> 'art' (which I'm sure true Disney fans would want to take their
>> beloved attractions that far; I certainly am one to do that with my
>> favorite coasters). Even within the amusement park industry, there are
>> many different ways to achieve this, and Disney's unfortunately seems
>> reduced to the idea, "if people are paying us to make them happy,
>> let's just put them in an environment where everything else around
>> them behaves in a really happy way for no reason and, if memetic
>> theory holds true, that should rub off on them."
>
> I don't think the idea is to use iasw as subversive crowd control. I
> think the ride works (in that people enjoy it) because it has a
> simple, generally universal, and pleasing ethos. Honestly, I'm not
> sure what you're criticizing them of here. They try to provide a
> positive and happy environment? Heaven forbid.
Amen. I would wager that the majority of people who ride It's A Small
World enjoy it immensely and do so in the most natural and uncomplicated
manner possible. It's difficult to simultaneously argue that Disney is a
highly efficient corporate money-mill, *and* that they are guilty of
inflicting upon people services and products which they don't really
like. At least without descending into the worst nonsenses of Marxist
false-consciousness theory.
I touched on this in my Magic Kingdom trip report. It constantly amazes
me, the reaction that 'it's a small world' generates amongst articulate
people. I'm not so much referring to the genuine hatred it provokes in
some (which is a legitimate matter of taste, no different to anything
else), as to the psychoanalytical nonsense. It's a ride. It's a theme
park ride aimed at children and families. In this regard I think it
probably is 'beyond any sort of deeper analysis,' in much the same way
Krispy Kreme is.
>> But as that song has repeated tirelessly for
>> decades on end, it no longer holds exactly the same meaning it once
>> did and is now one of the national anthems for that Disney ideology
>> that happiness in and of itself has somehow been taken out of
>> abstraction and sold as a numerically identifiable commodity.
Nothing which lasts holds 'exactly the same meaning it once did,' and
given that the show is static, recorded, and pre-determined, then one
can not reasonably charge that repetition is a flaw. I would suggest
that the majority of great hit records have, by virtue of their position
within the panoply, transcended their original context; great songs get
used in commercials, or allied to particular scenes in films, or even -
more personally - altered by life experience. How many of us have had a
particular piece of music serve as the backdrop to a memorable event,
and henceforth been unable to extricate it from that circumstance. Does
that cause us to slam the original, or worse - start analysing it?
The key point, though, is that repetition does not inherently sully the
virtue of the original work. Primarily because the repetition is on the
Disney, and not the consumer end. There are a huge number of people who
will today experience 'it's a small world' for the first time, and who
don't travel around the various Disney parks comparing notes. The claim
that it has lost its happiness because it has been running for ages only
really makes sense if each individual has been watching it for ages. But
they haven't. Amusement park attractions are a little like internet news
sites: they run constantly and people dip in and out when they are free.
One wouldn't sit pressing refresh on the same story for the whole day,
and then claim the news was boring and losing its appeal, and if one did
then one would be missing the point entirely.
It doesn't matter to the average visitor that 'it's a small world' has
been running in various incarnations since 1964, any more than it
matters to the child who sits in rapt silence at their first listen to
Beethoven's 6th that the piece was first performed in 1808, or that it
has been used in a wide variety of other settings, many of them commercial.
Jeremy
> >> entertainment takes identical forms, or that it is beyond any sort of
> >> deeper analysis, even that which can't even be classified as also
> >> 'art' (which I'm sure true Disney fans would want to take their
> >> beloved attractions that far; I certainly am one to do that with my
> >> favorite coasters). Even within the amusement park industry, there are
> >> many different ways to achieve this, and Disney's unfortunately seems
> >> reduced to the idea, "if people are paying us to make them happy,
> >> let's just put them in an environment where everything else around
> >> them behaves in a really happy way for no reason and, if memetic
> >> theory holds true, that should rub off on them."
>
> > I don't think the idea is to use iasw as subversive crowd control. I
> > think the ride works (in that people enjoy it) because it has a
> > simple, generally universal, and pleasing ethos. Honestly, I'm not
> > sure what you're criticizing them of here. They try to provide a
> > positive and happy environment? Heaven forbid.
An analogy for my point is a tearjerker movie which, at the end,
everyone in the film is crying. The filmmakers hope this means
everyone in the audience will be crying along with them (and
admittedly this strategy works for a good percentage of the
population) but in 99% of films that do this I'll be sitting there
cross-armed and bored. Same thing with these studio comedies filled
with stand-up comedians who spend most of the film laughing at their
own jokes. I'm not laughing with them. The most emotionally moving or
funny films to me are ones in which the filmmakers realize there has
to be a substantive reason before I'll shed a tear or laugh, something
even a lot of the original Disney films were very good at doing. But
the campaign to be "the happiest place on Earth" has always stricken
me as leaning much more towards the superficial and shallow end of the
spectrum. That's not to say there's anything morally criticizable with
providing a happy environment, but I have never seen the reason to
conclude that being in a happy environment by itself is sufficient
reason for myself to also be happy. It is certainly true that there is
a high degree of correlation between happy environments and reasons to
be happy, because generally speaking if other people are happy there's
an objective reason behind it. But at Disney (and I know if anyone
still bothers to read this thread I'll get lambasted for being too
cynical, but it's also something I honestly feel to be true so I don't
see a way avoiding it) the reason I saw behind the happiness was this:
money. People are paying to be cheered up and the park is being paid
to provide a state of perpetual celebration. That this scheme
legitimately works is hardly a surprise but that doesn't mean it isn't
beyond criticism. There probably is something less desirable about
taking that perspective which should try to be avoided while on a trip
to Disney if it is within one's capacity to do so, but from my
perspective this makes the Kennywoods and Knoebels of the world all
the more worth celebrating.
By the way, I'm not sure why this discussion led me to the position
I'm currently taking since as I recall in my original review I stated
actually enjoying the ride somewhat, if only for the spectacle of the
set-design. I never even said that other people shouldn't enjoy the
ride, only that there were a segment of people that do take a cynical
position towards it, and I then came up with a list of reasons for why
that is the case (and 2 out of 3 reasons were in criticism of the
cynics, including myself!)