More Visual Clutter

Additional images for blogpost below.

Visual Clutter

The once sleek, wide-open spaces of Epcot have given way to such visual clutter that it's almost hard to make out the park's design.

Look above at Innoventions Plaza (top image). The park's original design instilled a sense of serenity and beauty in Future World. Although the buildings of Innoventions (formerly Communicore) are overwhelmingly large, they are almost Zen in their spartan design. The simple sleekness conveyed a sense of "future" that has aged very well. The carnival-like additions to the plaza, however, already seem retro and silly.

On the other side of Spaceship Earth, as you enter Epcot, is one of the most crass pieces of visual clutter imaginable. Enter the park, and the first thing you get is a blatant sales plug for "Leave a Legacy." Directly at the base of Spaceship Earth, even before you get to the attraction entrance itself, Disney's already trying to get you to shell out hard cash. It's ugly, its crass, it's distracting and it really ought to be moved to a different location.

Mission: Space (you can read my review of that below) is a brilliant design addition to Epcot, its exterior design so sleek and simple. It fits in perfectly with the original conception of Epcot pavilions. Next door, however, is another matter. Test Track (image above) is such a visual clutter that you can't even make out the design of the building behind it. There was something wonderfully basic and elementary about the World of Motion building: a round silver structure that supposedly was modeled after a wheel. Even if the "wheel" message wasn't visually conveyed, it was a lovely structure. Now it's covered up by scaffolding and pylons and signs and other visual pollution. It's exhausting just to look at it.

Over on the west side of Future World, the glass pyramids of Journey Into Imagination are still there, and the water elements (the jumping fountain and backwards waterfall) still entertain. But when Imagineers shortened the name to "Imagination!" they must have thought, "Gee, nobody will understand," so they overwhelmed the building with signs and visual clutter. The "Imagination Institute" logo is everywhere, there's a garish neon-laced sign for "Honey I Shrunk the Audience," and even a hanging vinyl sign that looks like it was made at Kinko's. In a park dedicated to man's opportunities and achievements, the best they could do was a cheap sign that looks like it was designed by high-schoolers?!

Throughout Epcot, it's as if attractions are shouting out, competing for your attention. "Look here!" "Ride me!" "Come inside!" "This is fun!" Walking through the park puts a guest on sensory overload.

It would be great to see Imagineers take a long look at what has become of Epcot visually. The park has a beautiful design and sensibility somewhere underneath all of those garish new decorations. A few years ago, Disneyland in California became overwhelmed with outdoor vending carts (a problem that plagues Epcot, as well!) and too much visual distraction. Wisely, Imagineers and park management scaled it all back, making a much better guest experience.

If any Imagineer remembers the words "bad show," please raise your hand and proceed directly to Epcot!

Mission: Replace

I’ve finally had the chance to experience Mission: Space for myself, and it’s an experience I’ve lived to regret.

Whether due to the immense publicity around the tragic deaths of two guests who rode it or due to the sheer intensity of the ride experience itself, my overriding sensation while on the attraction was one that I have never had at a Disney theme park – panic.

True, utter terror filled me as I tried to focus on the single goal of getting off of the ride and having it be over.

Mission: Space is not for the faint-of-heart, that’s for sure. No doubt there are many people who like the ride, but don’t count me among them. After the three turbulent, fearful minutes I spent inside the “space capsule,” I could only marvel at how far Disney has gotten away from the ideals and values upon which its theme parks are built.

This is not a ride for families to experience together. Putting a six-year-old child on this ride virtually qualifies as abuse. It is neither inspiring, educational, entertaining nor fun; none of the qualities that infuse the best Disney attractions are anywhere to be found within Mission: Space.

I’m convinced that, within a few years, Disney will accept that the only thing that can be done is to replace Mission: Space with an attraction that explores the awe-inspiring majesty and grandeur of space exploration – but this thing doesn’t even come close. (In fact, its basic premise isn’t even one of going to Mars, of taking part in the first Mars mission, but rather of training for such an experience – as if instilling a sense of wonder and excitement about space travel were beyond the capabilities of Imagineers.)

The day I visited, the wait time for Soarin’, across the way from Mission: Space, was 75 minutes, but the space-themed attraction was a virtual walk-on. It seems that guests are shunning even the modified, “less-intense” ride. Technologically, Disney has created something truly one-of-a-kind; on every other level, it’s a travesty.

Mission: Space is about as far away from the original concepts behind Epcot and behind the Disney theme parks as you could possibly get, and that’s a shame. The building that houses it is stunning and beautiful, inviting and graceful. Behind that façade is a shining example of everything that is wrong with Disney’s theme-park design these days.

It’s a ride that few people will want to experience, fewer still will truly enjoy and that comes replete with so many dire warnings and precautions – my favorite being, “You may experience motion sickness during and after this adventure” – that it would be comical … if it weren’t so downright, well, wrong.

If Disney absolutely had to close an attraction on Epcot’s east side, I think they chose the wrong one.

Last Traces of Greatness

All’s right with the World? Sadly, that’s not the case. Readers of websites like Mouseplanet, Miceage and Re-Imagineering know all too well that there are many, many things wrong with Walt Disney World.

As in life, it’s the little things that did it. One little tweak in the wrong place – or, worse, one little thing left undone (an attraction not refurbished, a cast member allowed to be lazy) – results in a house-of-cards effect and, ultimately, the whole thing comes crashing down.

Still, there are a lot of things for which we can be grateful, both at Walt Disney World as a whole and at Epcot. So, for just a moment, let’s take a break from complaining and pay compliments to those things done right:

* The fun, bouncy, vaguely futuristic music that plays throughout Future World, which you can hear here, and which seems the perfect soundtrack for happy discovery;

* The dinosaurs in the Universe of Energy, one of the last remaining vestiges of what Future World once was;

* The jumping fountains outside Imagination, which, 25 years later, prove that just because something is a quarter of a century old it’s not outdated;

* The beautifully maintained and manicured gardens of Epcot, which with their simple undulations and lovely mix of flowers and shrubbery, showcase a kind of perfection that was once one of Epcot’s hallmarks;

* The hidden meaning of the old Epcot logo in the ground where the two halves of Innovations (formerly Communicore West and Communicore East) come together – the geographical center of Walt Disney World, something almost no guest realizes;

* The American Adventure, which, despite the tinkering over the years, maintains a bold vision of showmanship through technology and also (whatever your political leanings may be) is a wonderful display of American patriotism;

* The cast members in the College Program from around the world, who always seem eager and happy to be working at Walt Disney World – many other cast members could learn from them;

* The view of Spaceship Earth from underneath, when the Mickey hand can’t be seen and the enormity of the engineering feat and its stark beauty can be appreciated;

* Illuminations, a tiny slice of Disney perfection – it plays to cheers and tears every night, and I’ve never heard a guest complain that it contains no Disney characters;

* World Showcase, which somehow (for the most part) has escaped the tinkering of Disney “management” and has maintained the vision set for it 30 years ago without becoming an ungodly mess of thrill rides and Disney characters;

* Living With the Land – how has this escaped “Disneyfication” over the years and been allowed to quietly remain as an example of what Epcot was meant to be … wonderfully, happily so?

Perhaps Epcot is a little like Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars -- deep down, there is still some good there.

Next time you go, open your ears (the ones on your head, not perched atop!) and eyes and find little things to enjoy. They’re last traces of greatness.

The Real Wonder

What went through their minds?

When the decision was made to shut down the Wonders of Life pavilion, what could Disney theme park managers have been thinking?

Was it too expensive to operate? Guess what, guys? Running a theme park is expensive – if you don’t think it should be, you’re probably in the wrong business.

Were the attractions too old? Old, perhaps, but also timeless. Outdated? Absolutely. But that’s nothing that five or six million dollars (chump change in this business) couldn’t have fixed. Create new film elements for the Cranium Command attraction; you’re taking kid stars and a small crew here, not particularly expensive. Heck, you could have even gotten away with keeping Charles Grodin and Bobcat Goldthwait; yeah, maybe Hanz ‘n’ Franz needed to go, but you could have found a stable of relatively inexpensive talent in your Disney Channel lineup.

Granted, that Making of Me attraction was getting a little embarrassing, but it could have been redone for another few million bucks. Spend another five million upgrading the movie in Body Wars and another on giving the place an upgraded paint scheme and redoing some of the bicycling-through-the-U.S. movies (some shots just screamed 1980s) and you’d be done.

For thirty or forty million bucks, tops, you could have had an entirely upgraded pavilion.

Instead, you shut it down.

And spent five times that amount on Mission: Space. (Not to mention the fact that your parent company is spending about five or six times that on Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest this summer.)

I don’t get it. I really don’t. Once again, you’ve taken an attraction that was wholly unique in the Florida market, and a rarity in the entire world, and you’ve trashed it. Literally, this time around.

It just makes no sense to me that someone thought it would be better to have a massive golden dome that sits empty and barren, prompting puzzled questions from guests, than inject some money into revising and updating it … and, in the process, losing what more than one travel writer thought was the best attraction at Epcot (the aforementioned Cranium Command).

Did it not enter your minds that a ghost-town attraction would speak unintentional volumes about the level of commitment Disney has to its theme parks? That guests might be put off by realizing they spent 50 bucks to get into the park, but their money isn’t actually going to maintaining the park?

The real wonder is how these people keep their jobs.

Wonders of Life was a great experience. For those only interested in seeing big-ticket attractions, it offered two (one of them complete with a terrific Audio-Animatronics figure). For those interested in exploring more, it offered a myriad of opportunities – all of them in air-conditioned splendor. It was a respite from the Florida heat, a way to learn a little and laugh while doing it, a place where parents and kids could spend time together, an experience that left you even just a little more aware of your own body.

Yet, without a corporate sponsor, it was left to be neglected and, ultimately, abandoned.

The Wonders of Life once perfectly embodied what EPCOT Center was all about. Today, it perfectly embodies the level of interest and support that Disney gives to Epcot. Unintentionally, perhaps, Disney created its newest symbol in that golden dome.

The sad side of Epcot

Why am I so fascinated with Epcot? Why am I so disappointed?

This clinches it: a comment by James W. Rouse, Urban Developer of the New Town of Columbia, said in his keynote address before the 1963 Urban Design Conference at Harvard University. One of the brightest minds of the era observed:

“I may hold a view that may be somewhat shocking to an audience as sophisticated as this; that the greatest piece of urban design in the United States today is Disneyland... I find more to learn in the standards that have been set and in the goals that have been achieved in the development of Disneyland than in any other piece of physical development in the country.”
And look what has happened.

I know there are people who regret what Disneyland has become, what Disney’s movie division has become, what has happened to concepts like The Disney Store and DisneyQuest but I’d argue that they pale in comparison to the plight of Epcot.

Epcot was the last dream of Walt Disney, as everyone reading this will know. And everyone knows that, bless ’em, the executives who were left in charge after Disney died believed that they were honoring his dream by creating the EPCOT Center theme park.

Most claim they didn’t; I think they did – honor it, that is, at least in spirit. They put an emphasis on the hopes and possibilities of the future, they opened the concept to large companies to showcase their developments; they took the idea of an enclosed mall themed to the world’s nations and turned it into World Showcase.

More than that, they kept alive at least the ideals, the basic thoughts, behind Disney’s impossibly grand scheme. (So impossible that no one, not a single person on the planet, could likely have made it come to pass without Walt.) When it was presented, when it opened, through its first decade and a half of operations, EPCOT Center proudly stood as the symbol for what made The Walt Disney Company unlike any other company on earth.

It wasn’t a theme park; there weren’t all that many rides, at least by “normal” standards. It wasn’t a science center; most of its attractions were centered around ideas, not hard facts. It wasn’t all fun and games and it wasn’t all happiness and light. It was decidedly unique.

Its towering structures glistened in the Florida sun, monolithic and sometimes overpowering, as if laying claim to the future itself. Inside the gates, many guests were undoubtedly puzzled by its concept, but just as many came away enervated, eager to learn more, eager to move into their own futures with a sense that anything was possible. (Some just came away drunk, but that’s a different story.)

What made Epcot truly meaningful was that it was so different. Twenty-five years on, it’s hard to qualify; trying to explain what made Epcot unique is like trying to explain why yellow is your favorite color; it just is.

Or, in Epcot's case, it ... was.

Now, Epcot is overrun by Disney character merchandise, by the insistence that this is fun, by the desire to be like everyone else.

The tragedy is how assertively and insistently Disney’s management in the past 10 years have forced Epcot to become like everything else. They had something that could last for the ages, something that could always be in the state of becoming, something that no one else – ever, anywhere – could duplicate.

That scared them.

I know much of what I’m writing is similar to what I’ve written before. But as I review that comment by James W. Rouse, I am saddened to see that Disney, once a force unlike any other in entertainment (or any other industry, for that matter) has become so mundane, so much like everyone else. Is there a single mind at Disney who could envision a concept so radical it would win the admiration of one of today’s most eminent scholars? Is there anyone who could dream a concept so daring that it would never be duplicated by anyone, anywhere?

There seem, instead, only to be people so scared by the idea that they are the custodians of something special that they’d rather destroy that object than protect it and care for it any longer.

As I watch Epcot become Pixar-ized and made mundane and meaningless, I am at a loss. I still love it. I love that glistening sphere of Spaceship Earth; the beautiful architecture that reminds me of a time when the future was exciting and new. I love hearing the futuristic music that makes me imagine (goofy me) a time when we’d all wear matching jumpsuits and go to work in hovercrafts. I love seeing the pristine walkways and waterways that meander past glass-and-steel structures that promise wonder and amazement. I love the concept of Epcot; I do still get excited when I return there.

But more and more, hard as it is to admit, I just get sad. I hate seeing people give up on their dreams. I really hate seeing companies, with their unlimited resources and infinite possibilities, give up on the dreams of others.

That’s terribly, terribly disappointing.

Epcot at 25

I'm back online after a couple of weeks away ... unfortunately, my trip didn't take me to Walt Disney World -- though I will be going soon.

Meanwhile, I've received several e-mail responses to my blog, which I appreciate tremendously.

In 2007, Epcot will be celebrating its 25th anniversary, and here's hoping against hope that the new regime at Disney and Imagineering will actually care about that fact. Based on recent managerial/organizational changes to the way Theme Parks & Resorts are operated and marketed at The Walt Disney Company, that's sadly doubtful. Nonetheless, as EPCOT Center taught us, we can always dare to dream of a brighter future.

Before proceeding, I should say that if anyone at Disney (or Pixar) actually does read this blog, my suggestions below are absolutely given wholly and completely as food for thought. I renounce any right to them as "creative ideas," and they are presented here without any claim of ownership. In other words, Legal Suits, let those who care deeply about Epcot have a say in things.

Here are my thoughts on how Epcot's 25th anniversary could be celebrated in a meaningful way that brings new life and excitement to the world's most unique theme park:

* Start by rechristening Epcot with its original name EPCOT Center. A simple Google or Yahoo! search shows that most people still refer to it by this name, and using the "EPCOT" name as an acronym instills a sense of curiosity in people about what it means any why that name was chosen. Explain that "Center" means it is the center of Disney's thinking about the future and the possibilities that humans collectively have to make their future better by working together (combining the Future World message of technological advancements with the World Showcase message of community).

* Remove the hand and wand. Its time is way, way past. Restore Spaceship Earth's majesty and grandeur.

* Create and install a new, Animatronics-based attraction within the Universe of Energy; make it the grandest ride-through attraction Disney has created to date. Explore humankind's reliance on energy and the preciousness of our earth.

* Remove the awful "Finding Nemo" overlay to The Living Seas and re-promote this attraction as an experiential one, encouraging guests to take part in the dive options by reducing the price and thereby offering something that no other theme park (even Discovery Cove) can replicate.

* Though it's not possible to actually design and build new pavilions for World Showcase in such a short amount of time, announce two new additions that will open in 2008 or 2009, more accurately representing the world today. (Suggestions: Brazil and Australia for their great tourism profile and their importance to the world's geo-political climate.)

* Design and install a new attraction within Spaceship Earth, one that reflects today's modern and rapidly changing modes of communications and that upgrades the Audio-Animatronics tableaux that have been integral to the ride's success since 1982.

* Update the Carousel of Progress and move it into the rarely used Odyssey restaurant building, offering a literal "bridge experience" between Future World's message of exploration and World Showcase's humanistic elements.

* Produce a new film for the France pavilion and upgrade Mexico's Rio del Tiempo attraction with better lighting, a new song and new filmic elements.

* Lastly, remove much of the extraneous design and decorative elements that have come to clutter Epcot -- such as the garish banners and bunting throughout Innoventions Plaza and the "freeway look" that Re-Imagineering has so astutely observed makes the sleek, beautiful lines of the Test Track/World of Motion building seem so ugly.

A lot to ask? Absolutely.

Then again, when a park has been neglected as long as Epcot has, there's a lot of ground to make up ... here's hoping that something will happen there soon!

Finding Mediocrity

Word comes down from Bob Iger that The Living Seas, opened 20 years ago, will be dumbed-down starting this fall.

Really, really dumbed down. I mean, to first-grade level.

What was once a way for families to learn about the wonders of the deep in a truly educational, fascinating way will become the latest Pixar-ization of the Disney theme parks.

In announcing the change, Walt Disney World President Al Weiss said, “We're always adding innovation, creativity and entertainment value to our resort.” Forgive me, please, but I don’t quite understand how plastering characters that Disney itself didn’t even create all over a truly awe-inspiring attraction adds “innovation” and “creativity.” Seems to me it’s doing exactly the opposite – removing all traces of innovation and creativity from The Living Seas and replacing them with mediocrity and commercialization.

Years ago, I had a lengthy talk with a Disney Imagineer who worked on the update of Spaceship Earth. We discussed how difficult it was to take difficult, complex subjects like communication, transportation and oceanography and make them understandable to a large number of people. The trick, and it was a big one, was to make the concepts something that a vacationing tourist could understand while touching on ideas and theories that would add depth for those who were truly interested.

It was an incredibly demanding and thought-intensive process. It took time and effort. The easy thing would be to make Mickey Mouse tell you that telephones are cool, I remember him saying – the tougher thing was convincing kids, adults, the educated and the not-so-educated that there were ideas within the realm of communication that could interest them.

The same applied to all of the Epcot pavilions. The challenge was to find a way to add just a hint of “Disney magic” while keeping things interesting and informative.

Yeah, I know – that approach labeled Epcot as “boring.” As Homer Simpson said of the fictitious “EFCOT Center”: “It’s even boring to fly over.” Drubbing Epcot is fun, complaining about its lack of “Disney-ness” is easy. Understanding it is hard. Trying to improve it while keeping its core values? Nearly impossible.

But that’s supposed to be what Imagineers do best: Create the impossible.

They are not supposed to celebrate mediocrity. They are not supposed to be devoid of creativity. They are supposed to wow us, not disappoint us.

Why did they opt for the most simple “character slap” possible when it came to re-inventing The Living Seas? What’s next? An Audio-Animatronic version of Simba roaming the Kilimanjaro Safari? Shere-Khan laughing it up over in DAK’s Asia?

Based on this development, I wouldn’t put it past them. A 15-story Mickey hand next to Spaceship Earth is a sad commentary; a giant hat that blocks the majestic Chinese Theater is a travesty; characters from The Lion King at The Land is a jammed-in “fit” at best. Now this.

I hate complaining about Epcot; I was hoping to humbly offer some “constructive criticism” with my next few posts. But this latest development is a sad, sad commentary.

The Pixar characters have their place in Disney theme parks –- the Magic Kingdom and Disney-MGM Studios are ideal homes. But why, oh why, must they suddenly be placed all over Epcot?

Is it not enough to try to instill a sense of wonder and excitement in guests by having them go under real water to see real creatures of the deep? Are we saying that nature herself isn’t good enough? That Dory and Nemo somehow improve on the boring mundanity of real fish, sharks, rays, urchins and the like?

That is both the saddest and the most hubristic of the unspoken messages here: Disney is telling its guests that the real world is boring, that only when its entertainments are involved is it worthwhile. Epcot was meant to celebrate our world, our place in it, our hopes and possibilities for the future -- not fill it further with mindless, blatant product plugs.

I pray this doesn’t mean my future world is filled with over-commercialized animated characters.

What is happening to The Living Seas is truly, truly shocking and painful.

If this is an indication of what's to come when Mr. Lasseter takes control of the theme parks, what are we to think?

Before and After

That kind of says it all, doesn't it?

Geek-cot?

I received a thoughtfully crafted response to one of my recent blogposts suggesting that it may be the concept, not the marketing, that’s causing Epcot to be “spruced up” to appeal to a larger audience.

It made me wonder (as Carrie Bradshaw might): Does Epcot really only appeal to our inner geek?

The thought is cause for a bit of alarm from my perspective, because while I do consider myself a bit of a doofus and goofball, I’ve never thought of myself as a geek – at least, not the kind who the reader implies is the primary audience for Epcot.

I can’t do math. Seriously. I mean, when someone asks me to add or subtract numbers that have more than one digit, I start using my fingers. (If it weren’t for Blogspot.com, I would never have been able to figure out how to create a blog.) In college, I failed chemistry. Twice. I nearly flunked out of biology, and my technical knowledge is limited to the friendly user interfaces of Apple (and, increasingly, Microsoft – yes, I said it).

I saw The Matrix once and didn’t understand it.

That said, I do love traveling, but as readers have pointed out to me in comments and by e-mail, the success or failure of World Showcase at Epcot isn’t what most concerns them (and me). It’s Future World and the entire Epcot concept.

And I don't think that concept is meant for geeks.

My correspondent wrote, "If it is the whole point and nature of Epcot Center to be a park for geeks, and there just are not enough of us geeks, then the business suits have to change it to something that is no longer really Epcot. The satisfaction of Epcot fans does not, in and of itself, necessarily turn a profit if there are not enough Epcot fans."

I think there are enough Epcot fans, the problem is Disney doesn't know how to reach them.

Science centers around the country are seeing record crowds with shows themed to Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. Touring exhibits of the remains of the Titanic and even exhibits based on the art and engineering of Disney's theme parks attract audiences so large that museums need to time their ticket entries and limit the amount of time people can spend inside.

If 1 million people visit a 50,000-square-foot science museum in Paris in less than a year to see C-3PO, it seems to me there are enough people interested in "educational" concepts to attract them to see Epcot while on vacation at Walt Disney World and keep them engaged in ways that don't require thrill rides equipped with barf bags. Granted, the Museum of Science in Boston, for instance, says its attendance has been falling for the past few years, but it also says that it's exploring ways to keep visitors coming andstay true to its mission. And they don't even have the power of the Disney name and the deep pockets of Disney's Theme Parks & Resorts division to help them along.

Science, exploration, discovery and curiosity aren't just for geeks. Walt Disney knew that -- it's one of the reasons that, until its screwed-up redesign in 1995, Tomorrowland was always one of the most crowded "lands" at Disneyland. People want to be thrilled by the idea that there are new things to learn, new horizons to explore, new possibilities to discover. That's not a "geek" concept; it's a basic human desire.

With due respect to my reader, the suits don't need to change Epcot -- Epcot needs to change the suits. The ideas central to the Epcot philosophy need to be presented in a way they understand; they need to see that, across the board, people are interested in these concepts if done well -- and, to this day, no other major theme park even tries to address them as Epcot is equipped to do (but has stopped doing).

It's conventional wisdom, proved over and over, that if people think something's good for them, they'll stay away. If they think it's junk, they'll show up -- and find it's not junk, but something that sparks their imagination. They'll come away thinking they got a better deal for their money than they thought possible; their expectations will be exceeded. And, perhaps, their minds will be expanded.

It's not "geeky" to think Epcot's philosophies are worth rediscovering. I think it's pretty cool.

By the numbers

The 2004 estimate of U.S. theme park attendance from Amuseument Business shows the following attendance figures for Disney theme parks and their overall rank in the top 10:

1) The Magic Kingdom, 15.2 million, up 8% from 2003
2) Disneyland, 13.4 million, up 5%
3) Epcot, 9.4 million, up 9%
4) Disney-MGM Studios, 8.3 million, up 5%
5) Disney's Animal Kingdom, 7.8 million, up 7%

It's interesting to see that Epcot, which has been suffering from a lack of creative attention (with the ultimate slap in the face being the recent closure of the entire Wonders of Life pavilion) actually had a bigger growth rate than any of the Walt Disney World parks, and is the second-most-attended theme park at the Resort.

Having fun yet?

It can be assumed that Disney’s Burbank-based Marketeers were in charge of giving direction to the Imagineers who made such a mess of Epcot in the late 1990s. The suits at Team Disney just love spreadsheets, and the more abstract and “touchy-feely” a concept is, the more it needs to be broken down into some sort of numbers that they can review and understand.

Focus groups are great for doing that. In focus groups, a moderator spends hours talking to small groups of people about their feelings and emotions regarding a product or concept. For instance, at a focus group about Epcot, the moderator might ask, “What did you like about it? What didn’t you like about it?” and then the recent theme-park guest will spend 20 minutes giving an answer. Sounds great – except that marketing managers and financial analysts don’t understand long, detailed answers; they want numbers.

So, the guest talks about how much she liked World Showcase, but how she found it a little slower-paced and more relaxing and less frenetic, and the moderator will try to break down that answer into its component parts. Suddenly, the marketing manager will be told that, on a scale of 1 to 10, guests rate World Showcase a 3 for excitement and an 8 for “slow-paced.” (Note: I am making this up based on the focus groups I’ve seen in action; none of this is based on an actual Epcot focus group.) Spaceship Earth, the marketers and finance guys are told, rates a “2” for “thrills” and only a “5” for “repeatability.” In actuality, the guest may have said that she loved Spaceship Earth, but that it wasn’t as fun as, say, Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride over at the Magic Kingdom.
And there you have it: Epcot isn’t fun. Guests don’t have fun at Epcot the way they do at The Magic Kingdom or Disney-MGM Studios.

Well, duh.

They enjoy Epcot, they find it compelling, they like spending time there – but if you break “fun” down to mean whether they find it thrilling and exciting or warm and cuddly, then, no, they don’t find it fun.

The bottom line is that the bottom-line marketers equate “less fun” with “less successful.” They don’t spend time talking to the guests and experiencing the parks for themselves. (Keep in mind, a lot of the people who make the big decisions about the Florida parks live in Southern California.) They don’t see the big eyes of a child seeing the marine life inside The Living Seas or hear people saying, “I never knew that” after disembarking from Living With the Land.

They don’t get it. All they hear is that Epcot isn’t “fun.” And they want to do something about it. After all, people who come back from the non-stop thrills of Islands of Adventure say they had “fun.” At Epcot, they’re bored – at least, by comparison, they are. So, the reasoning goes, it’s time to turn Epcot into something else, to make it fun.

There’s only one problem with that: Millions of people loved Epcot just the way it was. Yes, it needed updating and improving, but it was very, very good.

The marketers, who didn’t understand the concept of Epcot themselves, became obsessed with the idea that everyone had to “have fun” at Epcot, and that “having fun” meant the same thing at Epcot as it did at The Magic Kingdom or Disney-MGM Studios. But it doesn’t, and it never did.

Epcot’s fun was different. It was based on the concepts of discovery and thought and communication and other things that don’t readily fit into the “top two boxes” in a satisfaction survey and aren’t easily explained in a focus group.

In their zeal to make sure everyone has “fun” at Epcot, the marketers and Imagineers have come too close to stripping Epcot of what made it fun in the first place: A sense of optimistic wonder and discovery.

Let’s hope that the new generation of managers at Disney will be less concerned about “fun” and more concerned about what makes Epcot so special.

Splitting Up the Family

The Sullivans are on vacation at Walt Disney World from their home in Columbus, Ohio. They’re a nice family – Mom, Dad, 14-year-old Steve, 16-year-old Scott, 18-year-old Shauna and 7-year-old Sarah. Today, they’re at Epcot. After taking a good long look at the park map, Dad announces “OK, family, here’s the drill:

“Your mom and I are going over to World Showcase for a few hours. While we’re there, Steve and Scott are going to ride Test Track and Mission: Space and go play the video games in Innoventions. Shauna’s going to take Sarah over to see the cartoon characters at Imagination, The Land and The Living Seas. After that, we’ll all meet up and go back to the hotel for a while. Ready? Let’s go!”

And so the lovely Sullivans split up … undermining the concept that made Disney theme parks a must-see destination for so long. From the 1950s to the 1990s, the idea was that the entire family could enjoy the parks together, something Walt found he couldn’t do when he would take his daughters to local carnivals.

In many ways, EPCOT Center was the pinnacle of this concept. Families could not only enjoy the attractions together, they could discuss the ideas presented afterward and begin to appreciate the different views and opinions each family member held. They could have fun and learn about a variety of topics – but, most importantly, they could learn about each other. Whether it was a traditional “nuclear” family or a family of friends or schoolmates, EPCOT Center brought people together.

Now, it splits them apart. Smaller children are too short or too timid to try Mission: Space and Test Track. Teenagers have outgrown Simba, Figment and Nemo over on Epcot’s west side. Adults need some peace and quiet after the hyperactive environments of the thrill rides.

If the recent rumors that a thrill-style attraction may replace the Universe of Energy hold true, Epcot’s east side will be primarily for teens, the west side – where every attraction is home to an animated character – will be primarily for younger kids, and adults will have to be content with the more-or-less static attractions of World Showcase.

Only Spaceship Earth and The American Adventure will remain true to EPCOT Center’s original concept of entertaining, stimulating and (gently) educating.

Carving Epcot into these niches flies in the face of 50 years of Disney theme-park design. If the Future World “family split” was created by accident, it’s time for Imagineers to fix the mistake. If it was created by design, it’s time for a serious evaluation of whether the people who are designing theme parks for Disney really understand the concept of a Disney theme park.

Meanwhile, the MBAs and marketing analysts running Theme Park & Resorts would do well to stop focusing so much on market research and start walking the parks themselves. At this rate, they may start dividing The American Adventure into red seats and blue seats just to try and please everyone.

Niche marketing may be all right for fast-food restaurants and television networks; it doesn’t work with theme parks – particularly not those as unusual and precious as Epcot.

Energy boost

What is to become of the Universe of Energy?

A rumor circulating on Miceage.com says the pavilion – one of Epcot’s original opening attractions – may soon go the way of Horizons and the World of Motion, leaving Epcot’s east side as thrill-ride central.

How disheartening.

Rumors among Disney cast members have an impressive rate of veracity, and if this one is indeed true, it’s another sad day for those of us who love what Epcot used to be.

The dedication plaque at Epcot sets forth the park’s vision clearly:

“EPCOT is inspired by Walt Disney's creative vision. Here, human achievements are celebrated through imagination, wonders of enterprise and concepts of a future that promises new and exciting benefits for all.

May EPCOT Center entertain, inform and inspire and above all, may it instill a new sense of belief and pride in man's ability to shape a world that offers hope to people everywhere.”

Now, I love roller coasters – I really, honestly do. Even though it’s an ugly ride with no imagination or thought put into it, I think Mulholland Madness at Disney’s California Adventure is a heck of a lot of fun. Every so often, I get the urge to go to Magic Mountain in Southern California and have the bejabbers scared out of me on one of their steel contraptions of torture and fear.

Put a pretty ribbon on a roller coaster, though, and it’s still a roller coaster. No one would argue that Space Mountain is the height of storytelling-based attraction design. Put expensive wrapping paper on a centrifuge, and whether you call it Spin-Out or Gravitron or Mission: Space, it’s still a centrifuge. Put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.

Have you ever heard anyone speak in happy, nostalgic tones about a Tilt-a-Whirl? The same kind of tone they use when talking about experiencing Spaceship Earth or the Universe of Energy or even It’s a Small World? You don’t hear people saying, “Oh, I remember the shine of those tin cars and the smell of the vomit as we whirled around.”

Not the way they say, “Remember the dinosaurs? Remember looking at the Earth like you were on the moon?”

Replacing the Universe of Energy with a thrill-based attraction, no matter how elaborate, is further admitting defeat, acknowledging that Imagineers no longer can be visionary or bold with their ideas, accepting that MBAs and marketing analysts run Disney and from hereon out always will.

A challenge to Imagineering: If you must replace the Universe of Energy – and I admit Ellen and Bill Nye the Science Guy have long overstayed their welcome – do it in a way that pays tribute to what Epcot should be, not what it has become. Remind yourselves of that plaque that greets every visitor to the park: entertain, inform and inspire.

In the early 21st century, there are few topics as urgent, as compelling, as meaningful as the future of energy. It’s a topic that encompasses nuclear energy, solar energy, hybrid engines and hydrogen power. Encourage Disney’s “corporate alliances” department to approach companies exploring alternative energy concepts rather than asking Big Oil to re-up their sponsorship.

Move confidently in the direction of the dreams of the Imagineers who designed Epcot. Apply the technology of today to the storytelling expertise they perfected and thrill our minds and hearts … not just our nervous systems.

Lost: One EPCOT Center User's Guide

Lost: One EPCOT Center User's Guide.
Last seen: Around 1994, when EPCOT lost its capitalization.

If found, please contact:
Bob Iger
500 S. Buena Vista Street
Burbank, CA 91521

or

John Lasseter
Pixar Animation Studios
1200 Park Ave.
Emeryville, CA 94608

PLEASE HURRY!

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Imagine that you were given the ownership of one of the most powerful communication tools ever devised. With this tool, you could make millions of people listen to your message and hear it exactly the way you intended. You would have a platform for your vision of the future, and you would be speaking to people who were eager to hear what you had to say.

Now, imagine you lost the instructions.

You had the tool, you just didn’t know how to use it.

Put in this predicament, most of us would probably do everything we could to understand the tool that we had been given. We’d study it, examine it, talk to others who had successfully used it in the past to comprehend how we could effectively wield it and perhaps even make it better.

That’s exactly what happened in the mid-1990s when a new group of Disney executives came to Walt Disney World and turned their attention to EPCOT Center. They didn’t actually lose the “instruction book” – more precisely, they threw it away, eliminating jobs at Walt Disney Imagineering and thereby losing the key to understanding the EPCOT Center concept.

To be fair, they did try to deconstruct EPCOT Center. When I was a kid, I took a phone apart to see what made it ring; once I had taken it apart, I couldn’t put it back together. And that’s what Disney’s theme-park “experts” did. They so completely tore apart EPCOT Center trying to understand “what made it ring” that they left the place in shambles. In putting it back together, they tried to make it like it was before, just taking out the parts that “didn’t work.”

Those parts didn’t work because they were unique. They looked and acted nothing like the parts of other theme parks. They weren’t roller coasters and 3-D movies and gift shops. They were attempts to get people to think, to spur the imagination, to capture just a few minds out of the millions of visitors every year.

They were, in effect, components of the greatest communication tool ever devised. Greatest, you ask? Mightier than television or the Internet? Yes, I’d argue. Because unlike those communication tools, visitors to EPCOT Center were listening only to one message, one idea, one way of thinking. That might seem insidious to some, but it’s what made EPCOT Center so powerful. Messages were carefully crafted and regulated. Sponsor companies could impart their visions, saving conflicting views for the real world.

There was one common theme among all of the messages: optimism for the future. Sure, we found out as we aged that all of those companies were cynical and profit-driven. But at EPCOT Center, we heard that they had a vision, they had a plan to make our lives better, and we would all benefit from their work. We believed it.

Just as The Magic Kingdom told us that if we wished upon a star our dreams would come true, EPCOT Center promised that if we moved forward with a positive vision of the future, the world would be better. EPCOT Center was the “real-life” version of Disney’s pixie dust.

It was, in its prime, the most sophisticated and effective communication tool imaginable, spreading its messages to tens of millions of people a year, who heard and believed them.

It would be nice to get that instruction book back. Note to Disney’s new management: It’s out there. You just need to ask around a bit and be prepared to take lots of notes. It may not be intact … but it’s most definitely out there, resting with the millions of people who once believed in what EPCOT Center promised them.

It's a (very) small world

The world has grown in unimaginable ways since 1982. We live in a very different world than we did 24 years ago.

Except at Epcot.

There, the world has barely grown at all – World Showcase, that is.

With only two countries (Norway and Morocco) added between 1982 and 2006, Epcot’s World Showcase is at once the most charming and the most stagnant place at Walt Disney World.

When Epcot opened, the plan was to include a number of pavilions that were never built: equatorial Africa, Israel and Spain were announced as “coming” additions to World Showcase. Two of the concepts – Israel and Spain – were abandoned, although during EPCOT Center’s early operations there were actually signs announcing the future development of these pavilions.

Development of the Africa pavilion continued, despite some quiet criticisms that it was reducing an entire continent of more than 50 countries to a caricature of mysterious jungles and safari animals. Ultimately, many of the concepts behind the African pavilion were incorporated into the more expansive and representative Africa section of Disney’s Animal Kingdom.

In ensuing years, Imagineers flirted with a Switzerland pavilion, a Venezuela pavilion and a USSR pavilion – whose completed plans came tantalizingly close to being realized, but were abandoned once communism fell in 1989.

Epcot’s history is likewise filled with never-realized World Showcase attractions within individual pavilions. “Meet the World,” a combination of film and Audio-Animatronic effects that played for years at Tokyo Disneyland was supposed to come to Epcot, but never did. A “Mt. Fuji” roller-coaster-style attraction was designed for the Japan pavilion but never built. The “Rhine River Cruise” originally announced for the Germany pavilion never came to fruition (though one can assume it got far down the path to reality given that the entrance to Germany’s Biergarten restaurant looks more than a little like a ride queue area).

While World Showcase has been all but ignored, Disney built the Disney-MGM Studios, Disney’s Animal Kingdom, Pleasure Island, Typhoon Lagoon, Blizzard Beach, the Caribbean Beach Resort, the Port Orleans and Dixie Landings Resorts, the Wilderness Lodge, the Yacht Club and the Beach Club, the Animal Kingdom Lodge, the Coronado Springs Resort, the All-Star Movies and All-Star Sports Resorts – and that’s just at Walt Disney World. While Imagineers built Disneyland Paris and its resorts, California Adventure, Hong Kong Disneyland and too many other places to name here, guess what happened to World Showcase?

Nothing.

As you can easily see from satellite images, World Showcase has room for at least five more additions.

The debates about what countries should be added could easily be endless. (My personal vote would be to develop pavilions for Egypt, Australia, Brazil, Russia and Malaysia – a good cross-section of cultures from different continents, avoiding the over-represented Europe.) Hopefully new management at Disney means that someone, somewhere, will think it might be a good idea to spend $100 million or so on a new pavilion for Epcot’s World Showcase.

It would be a good idea. It would prove that Disney is ready to move on from 1982, ready to put some thought and effort into its grand and amazing Epcot experiment. It would give Imagineers a chance to design something truly amazing, a new addition to Epcot that utilizes both “old” and “new” technologies.

Disney’s proven time and again it’s willing to invest money in just about anything except Epcot. If the company wants to change this impression, World Showcase would be a very good place to start.

Investing in the Future

As of today, Disney's family comedy The Shaggy Dog has grossed about $35 million in the U.S. When all's said and done, the movie will probably wind up making about $80 million worldwide. Add in DVD sales, and it's likely the Tim Allen remake will pull in about $120 million. Not bad, but once you factor in the costs to produce, market and distribute the movie, Disney will make a razor-thin margin.

I'm not a business major nor an economics guru, but it seems odd to me that Disney would make a business decision like producing The Shaggy Dog less than a year after it closed Epcot's Wonders of Life pavilion.

Disney shuttered this massive pavilion less than 20 years after opening it because there was no sponsor. Essentially, Disney wasn't willing to make the financial investment into its own theme park ... yet it's constantly willing to make movies that don't turn a profit and produce TV shows that are canceled after just a few weeks.

Where are Disney's priorities?

The Wonders of Life was originally sponsored by MetLife, and was designed with a motif that would best be branded "late-80s pastel." Just a few years after big hair and Miami Vice fell out of fashion, it's undeniable that the Wonders of Life was horribly outdated. Yet, it contained two undeniably solid attractions: Body Wars and Cranium Command. Each of these embodied the ideals that Epcot was supposed to espouse: They gently educated viewers while entertaining them. (I still imagine my hypothalamus having a sad, drowsy voice.)

Disney basically said, "We don't care about Epcot" when it closed Wonders of Life. Unwilling to spend its own money on its own theme park, Disney instead closed off a major part of Epcot instead of opening its corporate wallet to take control of its own property.

Twenty-five years after Epcot opened, it's undoubtedly harder than ever to find major corporate sponsors. Yet, is the answer simply to shut down those parts of Epcot (or any theme park) that don't have a major financial backer?

With the caveat again that most corporate economics are beyond my understanding, let's not forget that Disney doesn't need corporate sponsorships. The company has spent nearly $40 billion on acquisitions in the past ten years, most of which have proven financially questionable (Fox Family, DIC Entertainment, E!).

So, why is it -- particularly when it comes to Epcot out of all of Disney's theme parks -- the company is so unwilling to invest in attractions that generate higher numbers of visitors and display a commitment to the very businesses upon which it is founded?

Disney seems run by MBAs, and they're hardly the ones to understand or appreciate a park like Epcot. More likely, they are the very audience who thinks it's "boring" and "old-fashioned." So, take it out of their hands. Do the right thing with Epcot -- invest in its optimistic vision of the future.

Don't let Epcot drift further into becoming a sad, sorry shadow of its once-grand and unique presentation of a world of opportunity and excitement. "Sorry, closed for refurbishment" is not the sign of the times we'd all like to see.

What could have been?

EPCOT Center, which is now Epcot, is a special place. Even with the shortcomings it has developed in the past 10 years, there's no doubt it's unique in the world. And yet ...

What could Epcot have been?

More importantly, what could it have meant to every single person on the planet had The Walt Disney Company not chickened out in the mid-1990s and stripped it of its ambitions to fuel thinking and ideas, and to present new technologies that could change our lives?

Remember that Walt Disney died in 1966, just two months after creating an extraordinary film (available on the Walt Disney Treasures Tomorrowland DVD) that detailed plans for Walt Disney World. EPCOT, he said -- referring to it as an acronym, not simply a theme park -- would tackle the challenges faced by then-modern urban planning. It would create an experimental city, then experiment with it. New modes of transportation, of communication, of urban design, would be utilized.

Most thrilling was the realization that the "rides" he had been installing at Disneyland turned out to be much more than that. The PeopleMover was a 5/8" scale replica of a working system that would be installed at EPCOT. The Monorail was going to be the primary mode of transporation. EPCOT would not only be an experimental living community, it would seek to develop and encourage the creation of new technologies to combat society's ills. Communication, climatization, education, socialization ... all of these things would be explored, dissected and improved at EPCOT.

Had Walt Disney lived just two more years, I am convinced our world today would be quite different. He would have not rested until EPCOT the city had broken ground. He would have encouraged WED Enterprises (now Imagineering) to focus not on rides but on proving concepts like a working version of the PeopleMover -- which ultimately did get put into service in Houston's airport -- and the Monorail. He would have forced the state governments in California and Florida, as well as President Johnson, to take his ideas seriously. He would have moved his company from being just an entertainment company into being a company that experimented with and explored a multitude of new ideas. Had he lived to see EPCOT actually completed, who knows?

The thing is, when EPCOT Center opened in 1982, it contained some amazing things. Fiber optics connected computers. Touch-screen computers were found in kiosks throughout the park. Live video-conferences helped guests make reservations. The Land and the Living Seas pavilions were genuine work environments for scientists thinking about future needs of our world.

If you're young enough, you consider touch-screen computers and fiber optics are mundane. But at the time, EPCOT Center was the first and only place you could find these innovations in every day use. They blew peoples' minds.

By the mid-1990s, they had been dismantled.

The Land and the Living Seas still had labs, but they seemed more for show than anything. The idea of pushing new technologies -- useful ones, not talking plush dolls -- out to guests to show them what their lives might be like in 20 years fell by the wayside.

EPCOT Center became just Epcot, the thrill-ride-based theme park. And we've all been the poorer for that lack of inspiration, of imagination, of excitement about an optimistic future of opportunity rather than a mundane future of virtual reality.

Being Unique

It's tough to be unique.

The computer nerd in high school will tell you that. So will the tuba player in the band and the editor of the newspaper. No doubt the goth girl with heavy pancake makeup would agree. What sets them apart, though, is ultimately what makes them successful. The world has many suntanned, blonde cheerleaders and handsome homecoming kings. There are few who are brave enough to stand apart and remain resolutely themselves.

What does that little diatribe have to do with Epcot?

Well, consider that there are many theme parks in the world. Some of them have rides with heavy theming and intricate stories, just as Disney does. Others focus on thrill rides and exciting a teen crowd. Still others are old-fashioned and offer simple midway rides that are pleasant diversions.

Many theme parks today try to emulate what's found in classic Magic Kingdom-style parks, and in so doing, the best of them truly do rival Disney parks.

But there's only one Epcot.

No one has been brave (or daft) enough to attempt to build a park that entertains and educates, that explores the world and our place in it, that as its mission seeks to inspire visitors.

Epcot is wholly unique. It is like no place else in the world. Problem is, even Disney doesn't understand what Epcot is. When it was EPCOT Center, the park seemed almost proud to be so nerdy: When everyone else was building taller, faster thrill rides, EPCOT Center was unveiling The Living Seas or Horizons. When others were catering to teenagers and locals, EPCOT Center was trying to draw in the whole family, trying to get them to learn and explore together.

It was a tough concept, and still is. It runs contrary to every accepted notion of what mass entertainment should be. But instead of continuing to embrace it, Disney ultimately became scared of it.

Today's Epcot still retains traces of what once made it unlike anything else anyone could experience anywhere -- but has increasingly become Disneyfied and thrillified. It works from the "lowest common denominator" concept, trying to please everyone. And, as so many high schoolers can tell you, the minute you do that, you lose your identity. You lose sight of your goals. You become like everyone else, and, frankly, others are better at being "that way" than you are.

Epcot's new crop of designers should really examine whether they want to embrace the truly wondrous and inspiring concepts behind the park and revel in the fact that it is wholly unique. If they're not willing to do that, in 10 years, Epcot will just be another mish-mash of thrill rides and restaurants. Expensive, highly themed and impressive, to be sure -- but, in the end, just like everyone else.

For something that started with such ambition, that's a very sad place to be at 25.

Spaceship Earth

There was a beautiful, ethereal majesty to Spaceship Earth as it existed from 1982 to 1999, before the millennium, before the hand and the wand.

Spaceship Earth achieved something virtually every architect aims to do but few ever accomplish: It made a bold and immediately compelling statement simply by existing. Anyone who saw it from afar, even without knowing anything about EPCOT Center, had an emotional response. The gleaming silver sphere promised something both impossibly grand and strangely familiar. It was an unmistakable landmark and also a symbol of everything for which EPCOT Center stood -- beckoning guests to comment on it and conveying a message of future hope and opportunity even if that message wasn't consciously understood.

By erecting the Mickey Mouse hand and wand, Spaceship Earth was defaced. It would have been understandable had the decorations been a temporary salute to the millennium, then been dismantled. But when the decision was made to make them both permanent -- and, worse, changing "2000" to a curlicue "Epcot" -- the meaning of Spaceship Earth was changed entirely.

Now, it stands as a giant billboard and not much more than that. It is a garish reminder that Disney cannot love itself enough, that the company must push Mickey Mouse into places that he is not comfortable. The giant, disembodied hand with the "Epcot" name spelled out is the most remarkably in-your-face insistence on blending corporate messages I've ever seen.

It's as if no one understood that Spaceship Earth itself was a symbol, one known to virtually anyone who had ever been to or even thought of visiting Walt Disney World. Much like the Empire State Building or Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower, Spaceship Earth was instantly recognizable and inspirational for its simplicity.

It's time to take down that wand and hand, to show that Disney's newly inspired crop of Imagineers understand that the unadorned Spaceship Earth is a structure of power and of imagination in a way that even Cinderella Castle couldn't be, because it is wholly unique, created not by taking inspiration from the real world, but by imagining something out of whole cloth.

If and when that hand and wand come down, it will be a sure sign that Disney might, 24 years after it opened, finally be trying to understand Epcot.