So – Disney goes to the effort to restore a small detail to the park’s offerings, giving fans something they’ve asked for and all without forcing any other groups to lose one of their favorite things. After all, in recent years the Terrace had been only serving plain soft-serve and Cokes – who could possibly object to that riveting lineup getting a kick in the pants?

Funny thing about Disney fans…

Much to my surprise, the return of a simple orange juice slush set off a rather pointed debate in the online fan community about how Disney operates and how they relate to fans. I guess one could say this shows how ornery fandom has become in general recently; it’s certainly been a noticeable phenomenon. But even an inveterate crank and nit-picker like me has to express a certain bafflement when people get angry over something improving.

In most cases, this could all be simply written off and ignored as an unheard-of instance of People Being Mad On The Internet™. But I think this discussion in particular underlines a fundamental misunderstanding – even by people who should know better – about how the Disney company operates and is structured. And, for that reason, it’s worth discussing.

The criticism seems to break down like this. First there are the cranks who can’t stand to see “fanbois” obsessing over something they personally deem unworthy. Is something silly like the Orange Bird worth centering your life on? Well, no. But he’s… fun. He’s charming and amusing and kitschy and sort of a reminder of Walt Disney World’s funky first decade, when it was finding its own unique identity in the weird wilds of central Florida. Back when Disneyland and Walt Disney World truly had different personalities; back when the concept of homogenization was shunned.

It seems odd for anyone to take on airs and sneer down their noses at something they think is “geeky” when we are all adults who talk about theme parks run by a talking mouse and a pantsless duck. But yes, I do apologize to all you cool cats for not worrying about important things, like if on my 84th trip on Star Tours I got Kashyyyk and got to be the rebel spy. You know, things that aren’t nerdy.

The other branch of criticism has come from those who would otherwise like to see things restored to the parks, or nods to its past, but see these things as a sop to fans to buy them off from caring about important things like broken down monorails. It seems that those of us who are happy to have some ice cream have taken our pieces of silver and, like easily misled children, aren’t doing enough to stick it to the man because Journey into Imagination still sucks.

I have some sympathy for this argument, because yes, Journey into Imagination does still suck. Most of Future World at Epcot still does. The Hollywood Studios park needs a few billion poured into it for a massive and sweeping re-conception. Those hideous Flying Carpets still loom over the aforementioned Citrus Swirl stand. There are monsters and burping aliens in Tomorrowland, and practically no one wants the Avatarland project to actually happen (not even at WDI). It’s all true.

But what’s the threshold for us to be happy? Will we not be happy with anything unless it’s a billion-dollar expansion? Because the truth is that a lot of the lost magic of the Disney parks come from small-dollar items that were stripped away over the last twenty or so years. That stuff isn’t going to come back all at once; it has to be fought for item by item, and crossing your arms and holding your breath because each “win” isn’t big enough will cut off our collective noses to spite the communal face. And to understand why, you have to understand the Disney company of 2012.

The Sunshine Tree Terrace seems to be the epicenter of this phenomenon because not only is it home to the Citrus Swirl, but it was once the home of the Orange Bird character, who has seen a minor resurgence in fan-targeted merchandise in recent years. Now this has been nowhere near as big an onslaught as the Stitch tsunami of ten years ago, or even of the full-court-press that Disney undertook to try and force America to care about Duffy the bear. We’re talking a few t-shirts, some pins, and a small assortment of other bric-a-brac featured at fan events.

The Orange Bird was featured in Adventureland for the first decade of the park’s existence, used to promote the Florida Citrus Growers’ sponsorship of the Sunshine Pavilion and Tropical Serenade (now the Enchanted Tiki Room). Once that promotional agreement ended, the Orange Bird slowly faded away and became something that only Walt Disney World history buffs remembered. He was part of the texture of the “lost” Magic Kingdom, which kind of conveyed the feel of that entire era – almost like Disneyland’s lost characters like “Aunt Jemima” and her Main Street pancake races.

So the Orange Bird became a sort of cult figure when, about a decade ago, merchandise bearing his likeness began to emerge in Japan. That nation’s insatiable need for an endless stream of cuteness had inexplicably revived this forgotten American character and WDW nerds like me were both baffled and impressed. It was cool to see something that retro featured in new merchandise, and in an era where the Disney historical community was almost entirely unserved it seemed unthinkable that such a thing would ever be seen here.

Well it took about ten years, but with the advent of D23 and more online sources focusing on Walt Disney World’s history we finally started to see some new merchandise featuring the character. Disney was finally, if haltingly, recognizing an untapped market and trying to figure out how to fulfill this demand.

This is what the critics seem to object to. “Aha!” they say. “Of course Disney is putting stuff out now! They’re just trying to get money from the fanbois!”

Well, yes. Yes they are.

Disney is a business. That’s kind of what they do. Disney has never, ever been a nonprofit organization. Now, over the years a lot of things have changed. Walt famously said the reason he made money was to make more pictures. And the “old wave” style of doing things was by making things people wanted, instead of trying to cut corners and quality to increase margins. They also used to have a better sense of what people wanted, instead of trying to invent something from market surveys and cram it down everyone’s throats (Duffy). But they’ve always tried to make money.

Selling merchandise that people want, or reviving old characters they love, is not the same as building a park on the cheap because they think people are too dumb to know the difference. It’s not the same as running a ride until it fails, or not updating a show that references laserdiscs, or cutting staffing and hours and offerings.

In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m amazed that people could possible be upset about Disney offering specific new lines of fan-friendly merchandise or area-unique food items when the greater part of the last decade has been spent complaining about the homogenization of merchandise and the slashing of menu offerings. Well, now they’re offering new stuff and you can either roll your eyes or vote with your wallet and prove that your years of griping weren’t a bluff. People always say, “Ah, Disney will never change unless people stop spending money.” Well, maybe people did. Maybe selling stuff like this is a recognition that we want more than the same lame pins and “fab five” sweatshirts.

But the real crux of the issue, and the point of this entire diatribe, is that people who complain about “Disney deciding to use Orange Bird to exploit fanbois” or “Disney refocusing on its history” or anything attributing intent to “Disney” are missing one incredibly important fact: There is no “Disney”. There is no single will, nor single intent, nor single drive of the Walt Disney Company aside from making money. There is no agenda, no plan, no strategy.

Over the last few years I’ve had a closer glimpse at the inner workings of the company and if you’ve made it this far in my rant it’s crucial you internalize this one fact: It. Is. A. Disaster. It is a total disaster of barely-constrained chaos and with every day that passes I am more and more amazed that anything ever happens. I’m not talking about good things or bad things – I’m amazed anything happens.

The Disney company is comprised of roughly ten billion separate agendas, most of them pulling in diametrically opposite directions. “The boss says he wants some impressive new idea? Well that idea looks pretty good – I’d better kill it so my co-worker doesn’t get any credit.” “Delores in accounting says fans wouldn’t be interested in hearing about Epcot history so she’s killed the entire project.” “There’s a huge demand for this kind of attraction but we can’t make it interactive so forget it.” “The monorails are falling apart and smell like feet but we can’t have them taking the repair money out of our departmental budget!”

These are all made up, but are indicative of about a billionth of the chaos that takes place on a daily basis within Disney. I understand why fans want to attribute a singular motive to all of the company’s actions; I certainly always did and still do at times. It’s comforting. It makes sense. And you can place the blame on one person – typically, the CEO. If the company is doing something you don’t like, you can pin it on Phil Holmes or Tom Staggs or Bob Iger. And you can assume if we only get rid of them, the ship of state can be righted and a hero can rise to the top and set everything straight right away.

But that’s not how it is. The system is broken. The institutions are corrupted, and are structured in a way almost literally designed to prevent anything we would like from happening. This is why Pleasure Island is still a big, empty sucking wound at Downtown Disney. This is why the last thing added to World Showcase was twenty-four (!!!) years ago. This is why Hollywood Studios is such a mess. And why the true successes are few and far between. It’s because there is a phalanx of executives, managers, lawyers and accountants that are terrified of making decisions or going out on a limb, and find it much easier to say “no” than to expose themselves in any way.

Bob Iger does not care if we can get a Citrus Swirl or not. I’d wager heavily that he’s never heard of a Citrus Swirl, or the Sunshine Tree Terrace, or maybe even the Orange Bird. The guys at the top just look at the receipts that come up from below and care if the numbers are going in the right direction. Disney is going to make money – it’s up to us whether they make that money by selling things we want (Orange Bird! EPCOT music collections! Art books! Handwiches!) or by selling yet another wave of sweatshirts with Mickey that say “2012”.

You say that they’re only shilling us t-shirts and nothing more meaningful? The reason for that is obvious. First, if you’re an enterprising soul on the inside who wishes to see the parks provide a more diverse and fan-friendly slate of offerings it’s far simpler and quicker to persuade that phalanx of managers to bite for something simple like t-shirts. It’s a heck of a lot easier to justify the investment in a line of shirts as a test balloon to see if anyone cares about these things. The revolution isn’t going to happen overnight. It’s going to be slow and painful. And if we sneer at the little things, and no one buys those shirts, the managers will assume there’s no market and stick entirely to the Wal-Mart type offerings they love so dearly. And we’ll never see the “next step.” Management isn’t going to bite on a dark ride as a first salvo. It’ll begin with something quick and cheap, like merchandise.

This is a long-term campaign. With all the individual agendas at work within Disney, it does create one overall agenda: inertia. The status quo. What we must do is empower those individuals within the company who do have the right priorities – this is the only way to affect real change.

For every little improvement we see in the parks, no matter how insignificant, someone somewhere had to take it to the mattresses to make it happen. Once you realize how screwed up the system is, you realize how precious and miraculous any victory is. This is why I’ve flogged the Citrus Swirl so hard online; somewhere, someone had to put their neck on the line to make that happen, and if the resulting sales shore up their argument they might not have to fight so hard next time.

This is about momentum. The little, silly things are important because their success gives someone on the inside ammunition to bring to the next round of negotiations. The system does not reward people who care, or who are informed, or are aware of the company’s history and tradition. So, it’s up to us to reward them if they get it right. Because if their efforts fall flat, they’ll get laughed out of the room by the legions of middle management who don’t enjoy theme parks but think, somehow, that they’re suited to run them.

I realize this has been a long diatribe but it’s so crucial that everyone alter the way they think about the company and its motivations. Its left hand does not know what its right hand is doing; it certainly does not have some masterful plan for social media, as can been seen by its ineptness at social media. One action in one resort, park, or department has no relation to actions in any other part of the company. Heck, most parts of the company aren’t even aware of the other parts.

The good news is that there are people who care and who are working very, very hard and against absurd odds to make cool things happen. What I’m trying to get across, I suppose, is that if you like something, don’t be afraid to like it. Reward quality where you see it, and don’t try to attribute motive. If you notice something good, say so, and try and make Disney hear it too. Write letters, for pete’s sake. Those people behind the scenes need as much ammunition as possible in their endless quest to force the company, against all odds, to make things worthy of its legacy.

We’ve all suffered from the “One Disney”, “DisneyParks” campaign that has not resulted in a rising tide of greater quality throughout the worldwide resorts but instead a wave of homogenization that has attempted to fit square pegs in round holes. As Foxx points out, this is because too often decisions that greatly affect Walt Disney World are made by parties in California to whom Disneyland is the living end of themed entertainment and Walt Disney World is an afterthought.

It’s fine that this is where their interests lie; I certainly don’t begrudge Messrs. Lasseter and Baxter their Disneyland love, because it’s what they grew up with. I don’t expect them to share my EPCOT fixation. But if people are going to be calling the shots on decisions that impact the unique culture of Walt Disney World in particular, it needs to be people who are well-versed stakeholders in that culture. That was easy back in the day, when WED was small and the same group of Imagineers who made Disneyland moved on, as a group, to create the Magic Kingdom. Everyone was on the same page because they had shared that experience – they had that knowledge “in their head” because they had made those design decisions. Nowadays, though, if you haven’t studied the history and know the unique differences between, say, the two Haunted Mansions, you can’t make effective decisions on their presentation.

This is a problem that has come to the fore in recent years, as time passes and we have developed two distinct subsets of fans – those who grew up on Disneyland and those who grew up on Walt Disney World. A lot of the company is operated by west-coasters, and it’s easy to tell. We’ve spoken at length about how even fan-centered divisions like D23 have an obvious west-coast bias, and it has colored both the selection of and content for their historical events.

I think it’s time that the Florida branch of Imagineering come into its own, with the power to initiate its own major projects and to call the shots on these critical details. We need people who first and foremost understand Walt Disney World calling the shots, and less of these missives from California mandating everything from design decisions to spiels. Obviously the power within Disney will continue to come from California, and the center of Imagineering will remain in Glendale. But there needs to be a team in Orlando with both the manpower and agency to be able to veto these incongruous “drops” from Disneyland and to retain the unique voice of Walt Disney World.

Read the article!

The real reasons for this perceived shift are hard to single out; there’s certainly not a lack of artistic talent or technical wizardry at Imagineering, even after several waves of layoff and attrition. There are a variety of opinions out there as to why things are the way they are, and at what level the responsibility lies. And the blame doesn’t all fall squarely on Imagineering’s shoulders either; after all, they can only build what they are asked by the parks division to build, and only with the budget they’re allotted by Disney corporate.

It’s a complicated issue, and the subject for another post. But even for those of us who sense these changes it’s occasionally difficult to put into words just what is different. It’s easier, though, when a situation presents itself where you can compare apples to apples and the difference between the two ages of Imagineering crystallize. These are “one to one” comparisons; the aforementioned Journey into YOUR Imagination is a perfect example. It’s predecessor, Journey into Imagination, was an omnimover-based darkride about imagination. Subsequent versions were also omnimover-based darkrides about imagination, both of which used parts of the original ride’s track and one of which featured a character from the original. Yet the original Imagination attraction was an artfully-created favorite that is still considered a masterpiece, while its followups are considered two of the most loathed attractions in Disney history.

Another one of these easy comparisons came to light recently with some negative press coverage of an new exhibit at Epcot’s Innoventions pavilion. The new exhibit, Habit Heroes, is ostensibly intended to encourage better eating habits and exercise in young people. But according to the Calgary Herald, it has come under criticism from anti-obesity advocates and public health groups for its rather clumsy and clueless lessons about the epidemiology of obesity and the negative messages it conveys to young visitors. Dr. Yoni Freedhoff, an assistant professor of family medicine at the University of Ottawa, calls it a “gross oversimplification”, while George Washington University professor Rebecca Scritchfield simply said, “I would love to know what sickos thought this up.”

While it could be said I have more than a passing interest in Epcot, I rarely bother to pay attention when new exhibits open in Innoventions. This is, of course, mostly because Innoventions is terrible. It’s improved somewhat since its early days, when it felt cobbled together from cast-off industry trade show displays; at least now its exhibits feel custom designed and represent some level of investment. But as we’ve discussed with Carsland, just because a project is well-funded doesn’t mean that it’s well thought out. Innoventions still feels like a dark, dark box where all the leftover pieces of string and rubber bands have been swept.

When I scrolled up the video of Habit Heroes to see what the fuss was about, my opinion of Innovations was not changed. As seems to be par for the course these days, it’s really loud and really dumb. Basically, the message is that fat people are supervillains that can be reformed by peer pressure… and also you can shoot broccoli at fast food, or something. It’s truly insightful stuff. Take a look:

Of course, Epcot used to have an entire pavilion dedicated to good health. The fields of health and medicine were considered a key element of Epcot’s mandate, and work on a “Life & Health” pavilion began back in the 1970s. And this is where the difference between WED and WDI begins to become clear.

To assist in the crafting of Life & Health’s content, Disney assembled a team of medical professionals and academics from a number of fields. The chief adviser for the pavilion was Dr. Charles Lewis, a UCLA professor and expert in the fields of preventative medicine and health education. According to Rolly Crump, who led the pavilion’s design team, Lewis (who Crump called “Dr. Chuck”) was intent on incorporating positive messages into the attraction and keeping things entertaining. Lewis’s opinion, says Crump, was “If it’s a ton of fun, and an ounce of information, you’ll reach a teachable moment.” Continues Crump, “Now it doesn’t get any better than that. And that’s exactly what we used as our motto for all the different parts that we designed for EPCOT.” Lewis would later say that such a pavilion could only work “only to the extent that it primarily provides entertainment and enjoyment.”

Lewis was insistent on this point. Part of his mandate which is relevant to this discussion was that:

Thou shalt not increase fear or anxiety, send put-down messages to any group related to their “health habits”, or increase the dependency of individuals on others.

Lewis felt that, unique among Epcot’s pavilions, Life & Health faced the dilemma of not only having to be inspirational but also motivational. It had to help encourage visitors to take specific action, whether that be exercise, improving habits, or quitting smoking. To achieve this end the pavilion’s messages should be clear and simple, and the tone positive. The information received was less important to Lewis than the emotion experienced, for that is what would encourage guests to seek out more information and take meaningful action once they returned to life outside the theme park. This required information presented in the pavilion to be free of ethical judgments.

The difference between the tone of the Life & Health pavilion and something like Habit Heroes is clear. But there was even a more direct comparison to be made from among Life & Health’s offerings. One of the key elements of the pavilion was to be an interactive arcade called – amazingly – the “You Bet Your Life” Gambling Hall and Shooting Gallery. Now, if that name alone isn’t testament enough to how awesome WED was, nothing is.

No seriously, this was a thing.

The Gambling Hall and Shooting Gallery was to feature a number of custom-created games emphasizing different aspects of health and fitness. Apropos to this discussion was this shooting gallery game:

In this game, various foodstuffs would pop up at the bottom of the display and guests would shoot at them a la a shooting gallery. The animated cyclist at the top of the game would race against other players like a midway steeplechase game. His speed would be determined by which food items players shot out; higher-calorie items would require him to cycle longer to burn them off and would delay his arrival at the finish line.

It seems so simple, but you can see how this game – from around 1978! – compares to the shoot-em-up action in Habit Heroes. The Life & Health version is aspirational, not punitive. People are trying to achieve something, not prevent something. It illustrates, in a fun way, how one can make choices and affect change. And it educates, providing information about the caloric value of different foods, and what is required in order to work those calories off. And all while being fun.

This game, sadly, never came to be; Disney struggled to find a sponsor for Life & Health and by the time Wonders of Life opened in 1989 the company had new leadership and the pavilion had been handed off to another creative team. But even Wonders of Life had a few examples of fun-motivated health exhibits – who remembers fondly riding through Disneyland while burning calories on the Wonder Cycles?

These kinds of analysis seem esoteric and nitpicky, but it is these small shades of tone and meaning that separate an effective attraction from preachy unpleasantness. And, unfortunately, it is increasingly this level of subtlety and finesse that separates EPCOT from Epcot.

UPDATE: Word is on the Disney travel planning sites that “Habit Heroes” has closed today pending changes. Some are berating Walt Disney World for giving in to pressure, but I obviously feel this is a good decision on their part and hopefully motivated not merely by bad publicity but by realizing that it is a flawed attraction. But whatever it takes, I guess.

There’s also been a weird backlash against the closure, most of which reads like “fatties should suck it up and stop whining” and “THIS IS WHAT IS WRONG WITH AMERICAZ!!1!”. To this I would counter that obviously this is a huge epidemiological issue which is precisely why it should be tackled with finesse. People don’t respond well to scolding or shaming, which is what this entire post is about – earlier attempts at addressing the theme went out of their way to consult health professionals who stressed this point.

And ultimately this isn’t a “free to be you and me” issue of feelings anyway – it’s a matter of information. I’ve seen some refer to Habit Heroes as “edutainment”, which is beyond laughable. There is nothing remotely educational about it. Do you really think “junk food is bad” is a huge moment of enlightenment and education for most people? Even children? As I mentioned, this is a major societal issue which is why people need to be informed and inspired, and merely parroting “you should get some exercise” is not cutting it. It’s window dressing for just another flat-screen videogame; an attempt to cloak the fact that they’re just re-using the Toy Story Midway Mania technology with a veneer of respectability because the show is now about “health.” There is an enormous difference between having a message that is “simple” and a message that is “facile”. This is facile.

It’s facile, and a microcosm of what plagues modern Epcot. Mission:SPACE isn’t really about the promise of colonizing space, it’s just a thrill ride. Test Track isn’t about… anything, really, it’s just a thrill ride. Energy is based on Exxon-approved information from twenty years ago. And the Seas is about selling Nemo merchandise. I’ll ask you this – would it have cost them any more to have used the exact same show scenes currently in the Nemo ride, but made the plot about “Mr. Ray” taking Nemo’s class through the ocean and talking about all the cool stuff out there? Probably not, but instead they just repeated the plot of the film. This is my problem – I’m not talking about building California Adventure because it cost less than Westcot, I’m talking about not taking the time to think about what you’re doing and make it relevant to Epcot’s mission. These are cases in which good taste literally does not cost any more. And in Habit Heroes it would cost less, since they wouldn’t have to retool it.

One more thing – I’ve had some folks interpret my lead-in as a blanket criticism of WDI, which was not the case. As I’ve said, there are a lot of very talented people at Imagineering working very, very hard to keep the old ways alive. But somehow, that effort on the bottom doesn’t always filter its way through the system and into the parks. While WDI’s output has seen a marked decline over the years, I honestly do not place the majority of the blame at Imagineering’s doorstep – at least, at the sub-managerial level of Imagineering. There are so many places along the project pipeline where things can go awry. As I said: Imagineering can only build what the parks request, and with the budget they are given. And at every step in the process there are managers and meddlers trying to foul things up. It’s a miracle anything makes it though at all, so we should cherish those triumphs when they do.

There are many Imagineers who agree wholeheartedly with you and I about all the things we grouse about. And they have my respect (and sympathy) as they work extremely hard to right the ship and push through projects worthy of the Disney legacy. However in this specific instance the fault has to be placed with the content creators. The exhibit doesn’t appear overtly cheap, and the mandate – a show about health and exercise – is sound. I did not mean to say that every problem in the Disney parks is the fault of WDI, however, and if it reads that way I apologize.

And yes, I changed the title of the article. Epcot Explorer name-checked the old “Goofy About Health” show and I was so angry at myself for not thinking of that as a title.

Now get out there and do some jumping jacks before I have to throw broccoli at you!

This has taken me by surprise, and I’ve been at a loss to really explain it. As I’ve said, it’s an odd time to be a critic, with the company willing to spend once more but making dubious choices in the theming of these multi-million dollar expansions. Even more baffling is Walt Disney World, my personal area of greatest interest, which seems to rise and fall on a daily basis; depending on which subject you’re addressing – attractions, entertainment, foods, transportation – you can waver between optimistic and despondent on an hourly basis.

Big new Fantasyland plans? Yay! Decaying Tomorrowland? Boo! Tasty new burgers at Pecos Bill? Yay! Shortened hours and generic chicken nuggets at Columbia Harbour House? Boo! Classy new Town Square Theater? Yay! The hideous Stitch stage blaring Cotton Eye Joe in Tomorrowland? Boo!

It’s hard to keep track. And it’s hard to really chart the progress of the resort when you have snazzy new rockwork going up in Fantasyland but monorails falling apart outside the gates. What is most baffling is that many of us feel that the absolute nadir of the Magic Kingdom is behind us, and the park has seen an overall rise in quality and maintenance over the last few years. While it is far, far from its historical peak, of course, it’s at least better – better than when Under New Management festered in Adventureland, or the Exposition Hall remained empty, or the 20,000 Leagues lagoon sat stagnant and filled with floating garbage. The Magic Kingdom is better off, and the other parks are certainly no worse off than they were five years ago, so why are so many people worried? And why does the future quality of the resort feel like such a dicey proposition?

At last we have a cogent reasoning for exactly why this happens courtesy of Foxx at Passport to Dreams Old and New, who provides a compelling dissection of just how broken the system is at Walt Disney World in the prologue to her annual “report card” for the Magic Kingdom. The reason Walt Disney World’s efforts seem so scattered and fragmented is – surprise! – the resort’s executive and departmental structure is scattered and fragmented. The system is broken, and it will take a wholesale rethinking of the way things are done in Disney’s largest and most prosperous resort to return it to its former level of service and quality.

It is important for fans to realize just how Walt Disney World is structured so they know who is responsible when things go pear-shaped. In many ways it doesn’t matter who is calling the shots at the top; no matter the agenda of Iger, Staggs, or Rasulo, Walt Disney World will continue to botch the important details because of systemic failures.

Basically, Walt Disney World is set up like a feudal kingdom. Every vice president has their own fiefdom, and heaven forfend they all collaborate to create a better, high-quality experience for the guest. Instead they in-fight, stymie each other, seek to secure and consolidate their own power, and generally try to make themselves look better at the expense of everyone else. The company treasury is parceled out amongst these departments, with some better funded than others, which is why Entertainment can blow tens of millions of dollars on a hideous stage in Tomorrowland that is used for less than six months while other departments can’t perform basic maintenance for critical on-stage show elements. It’s why those goofy games that no one ever plays in the Space Mountain queue cost more than the actual show improvements to the ride itself during its 2009 rehab.

It’s because there’s no one in control. There’s no one with the power or the authorial vision to whip these squabbling principalities into line and make them all function as one for the betterment of the entire resort. There’s no one with the brass to spend money on non-revenue elements like the monorail, which don’t bring in cash but make the resort worth visiting. And there’s no one to stick out their neck and make a decision on where the entire ship of state needs to go next. Instead it’s hit-and-miss advances and declines, with victories eked out where some enterprising soul can trick the system into working and stagnation elsewhere as the inertia of mediocrity grinds everything to a halt. The system is rigged to prevent things from happening. It’s rigged to keep those folks who work hard for little pay and no recognition from making real and lasting change; the folks at the top have no idea what’s happening on the ground, and there are a million levels of bureaucracy set up to stifle innovation and improvement.

I compared Walt Disney World to a feudal kingdom, and we have a name for the era during which Europe was ruled by a similar setup – the dark ages. With all the infighting amongst the petty lords, not a whole lot got done at the time, and this might give you a clue as to why management in Orlando can’t figure out a replacement for Pleasure Island, or why simple positive changes can’t be made in the parks on a regular basis.

It does seem slightly insane to proclaim a broken system when I’m the first to argue that the Magic Kingdom has improved in recent years, but as I said while some things have progressed others have regressed, and it’s important for people to know why we’re subjected to hula-hooping on Main Street and Cotton Eye Joe in Tomorrowland. Why the same company who is spending millions on a new Tomorrowland allows a rotting transportation system and a Future World at Epcot that looks like… well, it looks bad.

There are a million different chefs in the kitchen, and some of them are great chefs, some of them are lousy hacks, and some of them are just there to stir the pot until they get a better gig. What Walt Disney World needs is a clear vision, and it would help if the corporate folks in California took a little interest in sorting out these structural problems before they leave the resort to its own devices.

But read Foxx’s post – it makes a lot more sense than this heap of metaphors. I’ve told Foxx we need more of this type of analysis; while Disneyland has had Al Lutz monitoring its every internal move for the last fifteen years, Walt Disney World has no such watchdog with a working knowledge of its own internal dynamics and goings-on. This has been much to our collective detriment, as the Florida resort’s politics and operations differ so greatly from the setup in Anaheim, and unless you’ve seen the system at work it’s hard to understand how it really works. Academically, I knew all the things that Foxx mentions in her article, but I don’t have the working knowledge to be able to find all the connections and to “see the Matrix” – to be able to trace the thread of how some arcane departmental setup leads to specific instances of shabby show.

Knowing how the system works is critical if we’re going to fix it, or even if we simply want to assess who to blame or praise when things go wrong or right. Foxx’s piece is a great place to start. The great news is that talented and enterprising people still exist at Walt Disney World who “get it”, and who share the values that made the resort great. The trick is how to set up a system that empowers them, and that is the message we must get across at both the fan and corporate levels.

A lot has changed since then. Management is different at the top, and in many places at the bottom as well. Eisner’s replacement, Bob Iger, seems much more willing to spend on projects that he finds worthwhile and he mended a number of bridges to the creative community that had been burned. John Lasseter of Pixar was brought in as a creative consultant to Imagineering, which many – including myself – thought simply had to be a good idea. Most importantly, money is being invested in the parks; a billion dollars has been poured into an effort to make California Adventure habitable, a long-needed overhaul of Florida’s Fantasyland is underway, and other projects wait in the wings – projects like the Avatar-themed area of Animal Kingdom that surprised everyone when it was announced earlier this year.

So, all is well… right?

A certain element of fandom will not brook any criticism of the Disney organization, no matter how badly show standards fall. Even during the darkest days, when the company was trying to foist things like Walt Disney Studios in Paris off as a “theme park”, there were those who bristled at the fact that anyone would point out that the Disney parks output suddenly seemed to range from mediocre to embarrassing. Those who felt that Disney should do better than California Adventure, or that EPCOT deserved a Space pavilion more space-worthy than Mission: Space, repeated a litany of simple pleas to Disney management: Please start spending money like you used to. Please give us some lavishly-themed attractions like you used to. Please start budgeting attractions for more detail, theme and atmosphere. Stop being so damnably cheap and loosen those pursestrings!

And, so it would seem, that started to happen. As the aforementioned projects began to roll out, it was clear we were entering a new era. The new areas announced for California Adventure were indeed lavishly themed and decorated, and certainly not done on the cheap. The Fantasyland renovation was actually re-jiggered after its original announcement to make it more elaborate, and while we know next to nothing about “Avatar City”, we know that James Cameron does nothing small.

Big projects. Seemingly adequate spending. Lots of detail, lots of theme, lots of atmosphere.

So why are so many – including myself – still left feeling completely unenthused about these developments? How to frame the argument that, even though what you thought was wrong with the company’s offerings has been resolved, you still feel these projects are desperately unexciting and creatively bankrupt?

Honestly, I found it hard to talk about at first because one starts to simply feel like an ingrate. We wanted spending – and they’re spending. Carsland at California Adventure is going to be big, elaborate, and expensive. Construction photographs shows massive, lusciously detailed rockwork and meticulously crafted environments. The designers at Imagineering are definitely “bringing it.” But that doesn’t shake the fact that it is an entire massive section of the park devoted to Cars. That’s like giving someone a solid gold set of bagpipes. I mean, wow, it obviously signifies a great effort on your part, but what the hell am I supposed to do with it?

It’s a hard needle to thread, critically. Basically the argument one is trying to make is that Disney is doing the wrong thing (building Carsland) for the right reasons (wanting to spend money to make California Adventure less of a joke). It’s kind of the reverse of Eisner’s early years, where he was doing the right thing (investing in parks) for the wrong reason (to become the grandest mogul of all, have the grandest hat at the hat parade, and crush all who lay in his path). You find yourself saying “Yes, nice hustle there. I can tell you’ve worked really hard on this and it looks great. But it’s an affront to what the company should be doing and I really kind of hate it.”

Let’s look at these projects one by one. First, there’s the Fantasyland remodel in the Magic Kingdom, which I really have no beef with. It’s looked consistently better ever since it was first announced, and even if it didn’t have anything I would ever ride, it’s at least making that section of the park nice to look at for the first time in almost twenty years. That’s a net improvement in and of itself.

Of course the real problem with Fantasyland comes when you compare it to its Disneyland counterpart; having spent a lot of time in the Anaheim park recently it’s hard not to be jealous of the sheer number of offerings in its Fantasyland. In a fraction of the space we have in Florida, Disneyland manages to cram in a slate of attractions that the Magic Kingdom will not approach even after this ‘expansion’. Wonderful dark rides based on Pinocchio, Mr. Toad and Alice in Wonderland, the charming castle walkthrough, and the exquisite Storybookland canal boats are all noticeably absent in Florida. A shame, as the Magic Kingdom’s larger scope and potential for grand vistas would allow them to breathe.

What’s more, it’s hard to imagine that after the money and effort is spent sprucing up the area that management will take a second pass to add in some of the missing attractions, or even new attractions built along similar lines, like the long-planned Fantasia Gardens boat ride. There are so many other areas of the park – notably Tomorrowland – that are currently below spec, that it would be exceedingly unlikely to get a “phase two” to up the Fantasyland attraction roster. Remember – these new attractions are only replacing capacity that the park lost during the 1990s closures. If you think of Mermaid as a replacement for 20,000 Leagues, and the Snow White coaster as a replacement for the Snow White dark ride, we’re pretty much breaking even on that front.

But that’s not really condemning the Fantasyland remodel for what’s there, but rather for what’s lacking. A failure of ambition at the top, perhaps, but what will be built looks great; at least we’re not left with some monstrosity that will never be removed, and it does leave the door open for expansion in the future.

California Adventure is not so lucky; alongside the truly lovely aspects of its renewal, such as Buena Vista Street and the Paradise Gardens area, it’s getting Carsland – a steel and concrete monstrosity that, due to its scope, expense, and “pet project” status for grand poobah John Lasseter, will never be removed.

Ah, but you say – Carsland looks great. It’s so detailed and elaborate and expensive. And maybe, you even say, I love Cars. But here’s a really critical question: What in heaven’s name does Carsland have to do at all with California? The park is, if I recall, California Adventure. So…?

Yes, California has a car culture. Yes, people in California drive cars. And yes, a lot of them work at Pixar and obsess over their vintage autos which were paid for by the billions of dollars worth of merchandising revenue raked in by their Cars franchise (and, of course, the money they save not having to pay for cereal). But Cars did not take place in California. Radiator Springs, the town recreated in the unimaginatively named “Carsland”, was not located in California.

Why does this matter? Well, because the park is called “California Adventure” for one reason. It’s also debatable whether, in a theme park allegedly dedicated to the real people and wonders of a real state, it’s wise to use the single largest space left for expansion for an entire land based on a single film franchise, about a load of cartoon cars that live in New Mexico or something. Did they run out of California stuff to talk about? I hope so, because with all the real estate Carsland eats up you’d better hope you have it covered already in Hollywood Backlot, the Grizzly forest, and the weirdly east-coast-seeming amusement pier. Also, there’s a Little Mermaid ride in San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts. So, you know, California.

Carsland indicates a general creative laziness that seems to be washing through the company’s efforts. We’re well aware of CEO Bob Iger’s obsession with the idea of “franchise”, and this seems to have become a crutch for the company’s imagination; instead of creating new realms filled with new experiences, we just get retreads from movies. This is doubly troubling since instead of putting guests into environments where they can create their own adventures, as in the original Disneyland, they’re instead relegated to re-living the stories of others – just re-enacting the things they just watched on Disney Blu-ray ™. This kind of mindset would never have brought us Jungle Cruise, or Pirates of the Caribbean, or the Haunted Mansion or Tiki Room or… you get the idea. Even if it’s a multi-million dollar experience, it’s still re-heated leftovers.

It’s also worth noting that Pixar has become past master and patient zero for the irritating and limiting “franchise as land” concept. The first land I can think of that was dedicated to a single property was California Adventure’s “a bug’s land”, and since then we’ve been saddled with Carsland and two separate Toy Story Playlands – one in Paris and one in Hong Kong. Both are awful. (As an aside, I can track the specific moment I completely lost faith in Pixar impresario John Lasseter. It was in the featurette, included on the Toy Story 3 DVD, wherein he breathlessly hypes the excitement and wonder soon to appear in the then-under-development Toy Story Playland. How wonderful it would be, he promised! No, dude. It’s really, really terrible.)

Building an entire land based on a single property limits you. It limits you creatively and logistically and sets you up for a situation, decades later, when your parks start to look awkwardly and embarrassingly stale. Did you ever go to one of those second-tier amusement parks when you were a kid, and they had the Flintstones, or the Smurfs, or Snoopy walking around many, many years after their prime? And it felt kind of sad? Cars may prove to be timeless, even though I kind of doubt it, but Disney is ensuring that a huge section of their California park will be locked to that specific movie for years to come. Better hope those direct-to-video sequels hit.

Which brings us to Avatar City. When, out of nowhere, Disney announced in September 2011 that it had partnered with filmmaker James Cameron to bring an Avatar-based land to Animal Kingdom in Florida, it came as a surprise to pretty much everyone. Including, as a matter of fact, Disney’s own Imagineers, who were taken as off-guard as anyone.

A deal hammered out at the highest echelons, assumedly in response to the wild success of Universal’s Wizarding World of Harry Potter, Disney’s alliance with Cameron is intended to snag a “major” intellectual property to compete with the boy wizard and get some warm bodies into Animal Kingdom. Disney estimates they’ve lost as much as an entire guest day to Universal thanks to the success of Potter, and apparently they think reeling in the highest-grossing film of all time will help stem the tide.

My response is this – who do you know that is an Avatar fan? Not people who enjoyed the film, or thought it was cool, or really liked it; who do you know who is a fan? For what it’s worth, how many of you remember a single character’s name from the film? I saw it two or three times with different groups of friends and I remember “Marine dude”, “Angry old Marine dude”, and “Sigourney Weaver.”

For what it’s worth, I actually enjoyed Avatar on the IMAX screen. Sure it had a wildly generic script, paper-thin characters, and a strange lack of humor, but as spectacle it was incredibly effective. Cameron does spectacle better than anyone else, although he seems to have retreated into his technology much like George Lucas and forgotten what made his early successes great. Films like Aliens and Terminator weren’t profound, but they were fun; Aliens was chock-full of stock, stereotyped characters, but they were fun and memorable. And you remember their names: Ripley, Hicks, Newt, Bishop, Vasquez, Apone, Hudson, and…. Paul Reiser. I’m pretty sure Paul Reiser played himself in that one.

But this isn’t a movie review and to tell you the truth I don’t think Avatar’s shortcomings as a film matter in this context. People were quick to bring up the film’s narrative and character flaws when the project was announced, but those aren’t elements that really matter in the realm of theme parks. One major problem that has plagued new-era Disney attractions is a dependence on character and narrative at the expense of letting the guests have their own experience. It’s what I was speaking about with Carsland; that film had a (derivative) narrative and (annoying) characters but they were distinct and memorable, and basing a land on that relegates you to merely living those adventures over and over again. Avatar’s great strength was in worldbuilding; I’m not sure I’d be interested in watching it on a standard definition television, but on the IMAX screen it was immersive and functioned in many ways as a themed environment. The film didn’t gross nearly three billion dollars because people were eating up the snappy dialogue, and there was no breakout Han Solo character – they were going because they wanted to spend time on Pandora. And that’s what an Avatar land could provide – a chance to experience the film’s elaborate environments and lavish production design without having to wonder why Crusty Military Guy’s mecha suit has an oversized gag prop knife.

So, the Avatar project would create an intriguing environment, with an assumedly top-dollar budget, in a park that desperately needs something. And with its themes of nature and fantastic creatures, it’s at least more theme-appropriate for its park than Carsland is. So why the ambivalence? I still have yet to satisfactorily summarize the reaction I had upon this news; it’s less a verbal reaction than a very specific and indescribable face. Perhaps the closest lingual equivalent would be, “Whuh?” It’s just bewildering to me. Why this? Even though I know the underlying executive logic, I keep asking – why this?

Somewhat to my surprise, my reaction seemed to be well above the median for positivity among online Disney fans. I was just baffled and unenthused, others are downright hostile. For some reason – I have no idea why – I seem to occasionally have a reputation for being critical of Disney’s decision making. But reading the online communities after the Avatar announcement, I felt positively Pollyannish.

First there were the people that just hated Avatar, or hate Cameron. There were those who thought it an inappropriate film to be represented in a Disney park. There were those who thought it an inappropriate film to be represented in Animal Kingdom. Almost everyone seemed to like the two better-known Animal Kingdom expansion ideas – Beastly Kingdom and Mysterious Island – and many seemed none too pleased about these concepts being usurped by a licensed property from another corporation entirely.

This is perhaps a key point of contention in many peoples’ opposition to this concept – why does Disney feel they have to reach outside the company to find a suitable concept for their parks? We know Iger’s habit of buying outside intellectual property, whether it be Pixar or Marvel, but while that’s not entirely a bad thing it also shows a fundamental lack of trust from management that their own company can produce something new and worthwhile. Which, if so, what does it say about management that they cannot run the company in a way that successfully produces new and popular product?

This lack of confidence can be seen throughout the modern Disney organization, from an animation studio that can’t commit to a production schedule to theme parks that have to buy other companies’ ideas to draw visitors. The entire reason so many fans have rebelled against the franchise mania – Cars here, Toy Story there – is it illustrates an underlying insecurity at Disney that they won’t be able to get people in the gate without a movie property they can slap up there to assure people. This condemns Imagineering to a spiraling circle of mediocrity, and ensures that they are not allowed to produce something that wows or surprises us like Pirates, or Mansion, or Western River Expedition.

Perhaps this is why the EPCOT Center of 1982 is so beloved? Because it took risks, and was unafraid to be its own thing? Disney attempted to create new stories, and in doing so invented Dreamfinder and Figment – two of the most beloved theme park characters ever. Sure a lot of the tools and technologies used in EPCOT were tried-and-true, but there was a concerted effort to bring people something new.

For what it’s worth, that was also the case for a great deal of Animal Kingdom. The park’s flaws are well-documented and manifold, and the elements derived from theme parks and zoos are clear, but it did try to mix things up, and present people an experience unique in Disney’s oeuvre. And maybe that’s why Avatar seems to clash so greatly. The major themed areas of Animal Kingdom are their own unique thing, not dependent on any franchise or brand, and it feels the possibilities there are endless. If you add in an Avatar area, complete with trademark and copyright markers everywhere, it clashes with the whole. It feels out of place. And it makes that specific part of the park uniquely limited in its range of possibilities.

Of course, what actually will wind up happening is as much your guess as it is mine. No one inside the company even knew about this until September, so it isn’t as if a slew of ideas have been percolating around for ages. Many seem to doubt that there’s actually been any art or specific proposals yet; it seems as if we’re pretty much at the “Hey, let’s do something Avatar” phase. It’s hard to imagine what form this expansion could even take – Animal Kingdom already has a giant tree; does Disney plan on building a huge military contractors’ base in the middle of their peaceful “nahtazu”? Will you go from a scenic African safari to firing a chaingun at blue dragons in a splintering forest?

Again – if it happens, it’ll probably be fancy. It’ll probably be expensive. And it’ll probably look great. But like so many of the things that corporate management and the feckless Imagineering bureaucracy have cooked up in recent years, is it the right thing to do?

These aren’t mistakes that can be swept away as easily as an off-the-shelf spinner ride. And no matter how much lipstick you slather on a pig – even if it’s a billion-dollar pig – it’s still a pig. Which would still make more sense in California Adventure than Carsland.

Am I an ingrate? Maybe. But maybe Disney will learn that the Beatles were right after all – money can’t buy you love.

The two major events on the D23 docket this year were May’s two-day Destination D event in Orlando, and August’s three-day D23 Expo in Anaheim, California. These were fundamentally different events; while Destination D focused exclusively on the history of Walt Disney World (in observance of its 40th anniversary this year), the Expo was a catch-all promotional event for all divisions of the company and was much more “consumer” oriented.

This year marked the second of these biennial expos; the first was held in 2009 and was widely considered a success. I felt Disney did an excellent job lining up a diverse slate of events for its inaugural Expo, and while there were some major logistical issues at the time they could be chalked up to “first timer” mistakes that would certainly be ironed out for future events. Disney even appeared to be learning at the time; many changes were made during the 2009 event itself to allow larger crowds to see the more popular presentations. There were bumps along the road, but the event was very fun and a great success, garnering lots of online praise and free publicity. Given the short amount of time that they’d had to organize the 2009 Expo, one expected that the sky would be the limit for 2011.

One would think.

This is where we encounter one of the fundamental errors that Disney makes time and again and which is a constant source of frustration for me with current management in general. It’s a metastasization of Hollywood’s absurd “opening weekend” fixation – if something isn’t a blockbuster success, immediately, it’s considered not to be worth further examination. There’s no room for word of mouth (which the 2009 Expo had in spades), or growing momentum. That’s fine when you have to quickly recoup a movie’s budget, but it’s frankly absurd when you’re talking about a fairly expensive event that requires people to travel hundreds or thousands of miles and shell out an equivalent amount of cash.

There were many rumors of corporate hand-wringing back in 2009 about the volume of Expo ticket sales, and speculation of what this would bode for D23’s future. I have no idea how accurate these rumors were, but to anyone with those concerns I would have to grasp them firmly by the shoulders, shake them slightly, and ask, “What did you expect?”

The 2009 Expo was the first event of its kind. People really didn’t know what it was going to be, or if it was going to be any good. A lot of the key details weren’t announced until very late, and it’s a lot to ask to expect people to make major travel plans based on minimal information. The Expo isn’t exactly cheap, and for most requires airfare, lodging, food… and this in a “down” economy. Add to that the fact that the Expo itself was announced fairly late into the year, possibly too late for people to make vacation plans, and it’s not hard to see why some folks took a wait-and-see attitude.

But the funny thing is, if you do something great and people hear about it, they’ll want to come too. I reported from the 2009 event, and “tweeted” throughout, and despite the fact that my readership then was much smaller than it is today, I was constantly reading comments about how people were so sad that they hadn’t decided to attend, or that they had no idea how great it would be, or that they were totally jealous and could not wait until the next Expo. The uniform response, even from my small and anecdotal circle, was clear – “We are definitely going next time no matter what.”

I clearly remember thinking, “Wow. Next year is going to be huge.” The Expo concept had been proved, people had seen what it was about, and whether they wanted to be in the same room with Johnny Depp or Bob Gurr (or both), they wanted to be there. I figured, hey, D23 has a hit on their hands. Everyone in the world is going to come to the next of these things.

It never occurred to me that this would go over the head of D23 itself.

I don’t know who makes the calls at D23. I don’t know where these higher-level decisions come from, whether they’re mandated by corporate or at which level. We all know that the D23 staff itself is full of actual fans, into the same things we are, but at some point up the ladder that stops. At some point – the level where some of these decisions are made – the shots are called by people who have absolutely no understanding of Disney or its fans. How else to explain that that the 2011 Expo, after all the build-up and hype that came from two years of 2009 attendees talking up their experience, would offer considerably less to do than the previous event?

My uninformed, backseat-driver prognostications proved correct; a ton of newcomers showed up this year. The twitterverse and blogosphere were full of fans making their first trip to Disneyland, all flocking to this event they’d heard so much about. Those of us who had talked it up for two years felt a little sheepish to discover that this much larger crowd was greeted with much less to do, and far less time to do it in.

This baffles me. We knew that the event had been shortened by a day, but I never expected its offerings to be trimmed so drastically, and limited to such small venues. It was possible to miss out on an exceptionally popular session in 2009, but even if you did there were always one or two other fascinating presentations to attend as a backup. In fact, some of the more interesting things we managed to see in 2009 were presentations we walked into on a whim.

Not so this year. Not only were there less events scheduled overall, but very few of them ran parallel. That meant that not only were there loads more people attending, but instead of three or four options of things to see, they might just have one. This resulted in lines. Very, very, very long lines. I think my most onerous wait in 2009 topped out at under an hour, but queues were regularly out past capacity three to four hours in advance this time. I did not get into a single non-arena presentation this year, partially due to a lack of interesting offerings and partially due to an unwillingness to wait three hours to maybe get into some session.

The result was striking. In 2009 I found myself occupied, running from one thing to the next, from first thing in the morning until nine or ten (or later) at night. There were screenings or performances every night; it was a constant stream of stimulus. This time I spent a lot of time standing around on the floor, standing around in the lobby, standing around talking to readers (yay readers!), and generally hanging out waiting for something to happen. At the previous Expo I was filing stories on a daily basis, but I didn’t submit a single one this year. Sure, seeing Scarlett Johannson was cool, but that’s not really news, is it? Certainly not Disney news.

One byproduct of all this waiting around was that I got to be a fly on the wall and observe other guests. I usually assume that if I’m out of sorts, everyone else is probably just enjoying themselves and aren’t noticing the problems. Or that all the new folks didn’t know how 2011 differed from 2009, and wouldn’t mind. I was wrong. During my little breaks I saw many, many unhappy people. And many incredibly angry people. We’re talking, straight-up-yelling, about-to-break-into-fisticuffs people. No joke, no exaggeration. I thought a few times people would literally have to be torn apart due to arguments arising from people waiting in line and the folks trying to do crowd control. One cast member would tell guests to queue in one spot; another would tell others to queue somewhere else. After an hour (or more) of waiting, one of the lines would file into the theater and leave others holding the bag. It did not end well.

It was remarkable. I spoke to people who had been in 2009 who were embarrassed about having talked their friends into coming, and other newcomers who just gave up and went to Disneyland.

The one part of the show that grew this year was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the show floor, where various divisions of the company put up their trade-show displays to advertise upcoming products. With more advance warning this time, the divisions had a chance to come up with their pitches for home goods or baby books or videogames. There might not have been anything for Disney history buffs – not a single sighting of a Jeff Kurtti, or a Tim O’Day, or a Jason Surrell, or a Don Hahn – but there was a stage blaring loud Radio Disney nonsense. And there were lots of opportunities to buy merchandise.

I realize that D23 is a pitch machine for the entire Disney corporation. It’s not just theme parks, and it’s not just animation or film – it’s everything. It’s a way for Disney to market junk directly to their core customers. That’s fine with me. And yes, Destination D was created as an event that focuses directly on historical aspects of the theme parks. But does that mean that Disney history – or heck, the theme parks in general – should be left out of the major official Disney event?

Because I have news for Disney and D23 – not everyone has the time, money, or desire to go to every single event. Not everyone who wants to discuss things that happened before 2010 can make it to Destination D when they assume these are things that would be mentioned at the tentpole D23 event. They were in 2009 – there were several great presentations at the inaugural event that delved into obscure corners of theme park history and the fabled animation vault and managed to turn up no end of surprises. Not so this year.

There is an entire, large segment of fandom that’s going unserved, and I don’t know exactly why. Obviously one would suspect it’s because that the folks running the show aren’t fans, and don’t know or care that certain things even exist to be celebrated. Last year Pollyanna and Toby Tyler both tuned 50, so where’s Hayley Mills? Where’s Moochie? There’s a whole sprawling history to discover, and D23 has the connections to make a lot of things happen and they’re not doing so. This is a shame because if there’s anywhere that obscure Disney celebrities and history would be welcome it’s at the Expo. Sure, if you had some festival at a mall somewhere in middle-of-nowhere America Miley Cyrus would outdraw Bob Gurr by an order of magnitude, but at the Expo he’s a rock star. This is the place to do these things.

Certain notable “in the bag” Disney corporate apologists have tried to excuse away the mistakes of Expo ’11, but that’s ridiculous. Disney is supposed to be the master of moving and managing people and in any case there’s no excuse for 2011 to be so remarkably inferior to 2009. Disney didn’t forget how to run an event in two years time. Any fool could see that more people + less to do = problems. Even with the limited slate of panels and presentations, why not have huge projection screens on the show floor to act as overflow space? Why not stream online, or at least record presentations for later replay?

Apart from the celebrity-heavy Studios keynote and the truly excellent presentation at the Imagineering pavilion, most if not all of the notable elements of the 2009 Expo were cut down or eliminated entirely this time around. It’s a trend that I truly didn’t expect, and while 2009 left me with a great anticipation of what would be next, this time I’m left wondering if the Expo will take a major hit in interest next time around. If empty spectacle cannot be shored up by actual diverse content, and this year’s issues aren’t publicly addressed, I’m concerned.

But that ain’t all folks! There are good things that have happened as well! Involving D23, a little resort in Florida, and a truly religious experience involving Richard Sherman and Dreamfinder. I’ll save that philosophizing for tomorrow.