Theme Park Thoughts: Halloween Horror Nights 24

Blizz is back, and he has recently returned from his October tradition of attending Universal Orlando’s Halloween Horror Nights! He sent me his review of the event to post here, just in time for All Hallows’ Eve.  Enjoy!

by Blizz

Originally written: October 21, 2014

Well, I’ve now made it to Halloween Horror Nights for my tenth consecutive year, in spite of the fact that terrible airfares forced me to travel with Spirit Airlines, the only airline I know of that probably considers cabin pressurization worthy of an up charge.  Regardless, HHN is back for its 24th year, and it brings a good mix of properties and original material with it.

So how did it all turn it out? Let’s delve right in.

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I won’t spend too much time here, because frankly 95% of people reading this won’t care too much, but I feel like a few things need to be mentioned.
The event has reached a tipping point where it has gone from “busy” into “Gameday at the Swamp”.  Worse, this is like a horrifying, Twilight Zone version of Gameday, where no one can afford to be properly intoxicated!  Over the last few years, HHN has begun to get too popular for its own good, to the point where the queue for every house is 75+ minutes from 8 PM onward. 

Crowding’s effects are felt most prominently in the streets, however.  The back of the park is crowded, but the streets from the entrance back to The Mummy in New York are worse than fricking I-4.  Everyone’s cramped together – which is annoying by itself – but it makes it nearly impossible for any atmosphere to be established.  Set pieces and theming are routinely placed off to the side, so as to provide as little impedance to foot traffic as possible.  Of course, this leaves the actors without much to hide behind besides the other guests, leading to reduced street scares.

While you can’t exactly fault corporate for boosting the popularity of their product, but you can blame them if the quality of the product continues to drop as a result, and nothing is done to fix it.  If the number one thing that guests start taking away is that they waited in line all night and got to do only half of what they desired, popularity will drop.

HHN has to go to two parks, and soon.  This has only been attempted once before, but now with increased revenue and experience, Universal is in much better position to pull it off properly.  While the vast majority of the good house locations would likely still be located in Universal, another two houses could easily be added.  The extra rides, as well, would thin lines out further.  There would be extra dead space, but the scarezones that are present would be able to thrive with the reduced crowd-flow.

As a final unrelated note, I’d just like to point out how lazy it seems to me that Universal couldn’t even think up a tagline for this year.  I know we’ve kind of reached a point where a theme, icon, or any kind of interconnectivity of the haunts is forgotten, but how hard would it be to think up something – anything – to tack on to “HHN 24” to remember it by?  I think it’s the first year they’ve ever done this, though I’m sure I’m the only one who’s concerned about it.

Anyway…

SCAREZONES

Thank God, scarezones are back.  No one – no one – can look me in the eye and tell me that they liked hearing the theme music for The Walking Dead playing on loop for 8 hours last year, as they ventured through an endless montage of photo-ops.  Though none are spectacular, this return to what works is a big plus for this year, and it gives us the best street experience since 2011.


MASKerade: Unstitched
This zone takes guests through a creepy, everlasting masquerade ball, where the dancers – still stuck in a surreal dance – have long-since begun to rot away.  It yields some of my favorite costumes of the entire event – most of the dancers have either crudely stitched their skin back into place, or they’ve made their ball room masks out of the more youthful faces of unfortunate interlopers.  The set pieces could use some work – I like massive candles with the blank human expressions melted into the wax, but is that really it for this zone?  Perhaps Universal doesn’t want to drop in too many obstacles in this high traffic street (which is a direct funnel to all four soundstage haunts).  If that’s the case, however, then I’d rather they just move zones like this to nearby streets where they can be fully realized, even if it forces guests to travel a little out of their way to see them.  In spite of their disadvantages, the actors do bring just enough energy to keep this one interesting.

Atmosfear:  C+              Characters:  A                Design:  C                        Intensity:  B-


Face Off: In the Flesh   *Zone of the Year*

This is based off the SyFy reality TV show, not the movie where Nicholas Cage and John Travolta wear each others faces for two hours (unfortunately…).  The TV show is basically a horror make-up artist competition, and the zone showcases a lot of the better creations.  I was frankly worried this would end up being a photo-op zone, but luckily I’d liken this more to 7 from 2011.  The most impressive creations stand atop pedestals, generating a lot of interest and pictures.  Their minions, however, weave in and out of the crowd, attacking anyone who distracted by the main attractions on the pedestals.  Much to my own bewilderment, it’s the most all-around solid zone this year, and gets the nod for Zone of the Year.

Atmosfear:  B                 Characters:  A                Design:  B                         Intensity:  B


The Purge: Anarchy

This property is a great fit for the New York area.  Most of the movie takes place in a metropolis in complete uproar during “The Purge,” so by tossing this zone where they did, Universal already had half their work completed.  I love that this zone seems to take on a life of its own – there always seems to be something going on, whether it be chainsaw gang, the moving vans that drop hordes off in one area or another, or just the violence going on on top of the bus set piece.  It’s also massive, expanding across the entirety of the New York area.  Crowds can suffocate this area at times, which often makes it hard to see a lot of the actors in motion.  There’s an actor in a wheelchair in this zone that combats this issue by simply bulling through crowds, which is easily my favorite thing to watch here.

Atmosfear:  B+               Characters:  C+              Design:  C                        Intensity:  B


Bayou of Blood

If you’re looking for the zone with the best atmosphere this year, this is it.  This is to be expected – whatever zone is located in the Central Park area usually takes the cake in this category.  This area has long been known for the awesome jack-o-lanterns hanging from the trees; this year the trees are lit with candles, and the street flooded with fog and characters that look like they’re right out of American Horror Story.  The Voodoo cabin near Mel’s Drive In is beautiful to look at, but a little wasted now that human sacrifices are no longer performed there.  Unfortunately, the actors here seem to have a lot more bark than bite; of all the zones, this is the one where intensity seems to be lacking most egregiously.

Atmosfear:  A                Characters:  B                Design:  C+                      Intensity:  C-
  


HOUSES

From Dusk ‘Till Dawn

From Dusk ‘till Dawn was the loose inspiration for my first ever HHN house, Demon Cantina, so needless to say I was pretty interested in this one.  The house is based on the TV show, but that frankly doesn’t matter, because the show follows the plot of the movie very closely.  The house takes you through the “Twister” – a biker bar in Mexico where the female entertainment is a clandestine horde of vampires.  Guests will enter past a group of private dances gone horribly gory; from there, the journey is into the Mexican temple where this vampire cult is based, and then finally back into the bar to exit past the designated Selma Hayek look-alike.  If you haven’t put this together yet, the distraction tactics used here are clearly geared towards one gender.  Even if this “scenery” isn’t to your liking, the cast seems to have a lot of fun with their roles, and in both of my runs through I’ve come away with a jump or two.  The sets are adequate, but not anything to write home about. Come on Universal – you can’t look me in the eye and tell me you thought hanging Toys-R-Us plastic snakes from the ceiling would really up the production value here.  It’s by no definition a must-hit, but I still find it to be one of the more consistently fun houses this year.

Story:  C+                         Atmosfear:  C+              Set Design:  B                 Intensity:  B


The Walking Dead: End of the Line

Walking Dead is back. Again. And though I’ve maintained that both of the previous installments got a lot more flak than they really deserved, I have to admit even I’m pretty annoyed at this point with Universal’s insistence that this property be shoved down our throat. This newest installment follows Season 4, and takes us from the prison in the middle of an outbreak all the way to Terminus, with every half-way notable episode you can think of in between.  TWD: End of the Line brings some appealing aspects to the table – it boasts an entire soundstage to work with, making it the largest house ever made at HHN, roughly double the size of some of the other haunts. The cast, as well, seems quite active; though ironically, they are once again forced to break character to do so.  There’s nothing I can point out about this house that is really half-bad, aside from that moment where crummy robotic zombies slowly roll forward on rails.  The biggest problem here is that TWD 3 really does nothing to differentiate itself from its predecessors.  None of the scenes are especially memorable, and a few (like the convenience store) could be cut.  Here’s the bottom line: if you missed the last two years of TWD houses, make time for this one; but if you’ve seen this before, you can probably spare yourself the longest line in the park.

Story:  D+                         Atmosfear:  C+                 Set Design:  C+              Intensity:  C+


AVP: Alien vs. Predator     *Honorable Mention*

Universal almost wrecked two fantastic properties by bringing them together in a house named for a crossover fuck-up of Freddy vs. Jason proportions. Instead, Universal basically came out and said “We’re sorry, we’d sooner make Twilight: The Maze than recreate Sanaa Lathan and a Predator riding a freight cart to the Antarctic surface together.” So they made up their own Xenomorph-experimentation facility that allowed them to use notable moments from both franchises that people actually enjoy.  A+ on that one, Universal.  This house is just a ton of fun for me – where else can you scream classic Bill Paxton lines in context?  You’ve got to love the military squad’s gunfire, which gives the house a great, chaotic vibe that makes it hard to focus on the more threatening actors.  The house does lose some points from having very few recognizable scenes – while solid sets, there’s nothing here that really screams “Alien” or “Predator” outside of the creatures themselves.  Still, the layout allows very little personal space, including a finale that forces guests to crouch through an alien-infested tunnel to escape.  The face-humpers are pretty laughable, and the actual alien puppets are often a little easy to see coming.  While quite intimidating, they aren’t quite on the level of sheer badassery showcased by their predecessors in last year’s American Werewolf. They are, however, very effective distractions for the 6’5” predators that lie in wait nearby.  The Preds are really what make or break the house, because if you don’t see them coming you’re probably in for one of your bigger scares of the evening.  If only for that reason, this one cannot afford to be skipped.

Story:  B+                         Atmosfear:  B-               Set Design: A-                Intensity:  A


Dracula Untold: Reign of Blood 

For years, someone in corporate has been just addicted to the idea that promoting a new, sub-par horror movie with a haunted house is a great way to get asses in the theater. I’d love to see some statistics on how effective that is, but I digress. Roughly 95% of guests have not seen this movie, and consequently, I can’t imagine it’s high on anyone’s must-do list.  Still, Dracula was a pleasant surprise.  In the midst of a down year in terms of set quality, Dracula really shines, providing the year’s most beautiful sets along the way.  Two scenes that really shine with authenticity to me are the trip to the top of the wall in Dracula’s castle and the journey through the smoldering countryside, littered with invading Turks.  Though the house doesn’t provide a lot of tricks and misdirection to disguise the actors, the cast seems active enough to keep Dracula at least respectable in the scares department. It’s a middle-of-the-road house this year, with the upside of usually being the soundstage house with the least intimidating line.

Story:  C                           Atmosfear:  A+              Set Design:  C+              Intensity:  C 


Giggles & Gore, Inc.

Giggles & Gore had a concept I was into from the start.  A manufacturing facility where the kidnapped are being stuffed into the husks of clowns, having their voice boxes replaced so they can only cackle?  Let’s be honest: that’s genuinely horrifying, not to mention pretty original – two things Universal hasn’t had exactly had in spades over the last few years.  The house gets off to a great start too – I loved the guy in the first room, with his eyes pinned open (a la Clockwork Orange) being forced to watch Woody Woodpecker on loop.  Unfortunately, despite its promise and a strong start, I consider G&G to be one of the weaker houses this year due to its want of focus and lackluster finish. The house steadily loses its “manufacturing” aspect after its midway point and looks more and more like a generic clown house by its conclusion.  The sets, likewise, become less interesting, and eventually by the end seem to be just empty hallways with boo-holes sitting in plain sight.  It’s by no means a truly bad house, but this is a year with a pretty high floor, and G&G is right near it.

Story:  B-                          Atmosfear:  C                 Set Design:  C-               Intensity:  C+


Halloween     *Co-House of the Year*
If creepy and detailed atmosphere is your thing, just keep walking – Halloween doesn’t give much of a damn about these subtle nuances.  This house only knows how to attack repeatedly, and without mercy.  The sets here are among the event’s most basic and uninspiring.  Granted, the movie takes place in a house, so it’s not exactly providing a lot of rich visual scenes to draw from, but even so, it really feels like HHN forgot to fill in a hell of a lot of blanks.  Now, while I said these sets were simple, I did not say they were ineffective.  In fact, Halloween puts on a clinic of effective set design, overwhelming guests with misdirection, ambient noise, and clever hiding locations for the cast. A great example of this is the winding hallway of hanging linens, where every individual closet door rattles as if an actor stands right behind it. Only about two or three hold an actual Michael Myers.  The cast is bar-none the best at Horror Nights this year. None of their appearances are half-assed – if they’re there, they’re coming full throttle, with a booming sound-effect to maximize the effect.  It’s one of, if not the, house to see this year.  Can’t miss.

Story:  B-                          Atmosfear:  C                 Set Design:  A+              Intensity:  A+


Dollhouse of the Damned     *Co-House of the Year*

If you’re the type of person who likes houses to be on the creepier side, Dollhouse is for you.  The collection of dolls, dummies, and mortifying over-sized babies leaves the house with a truly twisted feel untapped by Horror Nights since a personal favorite of mine – Scary Tales III – stole the show in 2008.  Even the audio in here is creepy – how about the dissection room, where you can hear a little kid asking if you “want to play doctor”? The attention to detail in here is fantastic – Dollhouse is stuffed to the brim with creepy artifacts, strobes, mirrors, and actor look-alikes, creating a cramped layout that makes it almost impossible to feel comfortable in your own space. The actors are full of energy and are more than capable of delivering jump scares; however, I will say that the “child” theme of the house led Universal to cast smaller actors in a lot of roles here, which means the characters aren’t nearly as intimidating as their counterparts in AVP or Halloween.  I’m also a pretty dubious of Universal’s original story that this house is supposed to be a decaying morgue taken over by a twisted little girl, as there seems to be no evidence to support this anywhere.  Still, it’s hard to find anything here to complain about too much.  Do not leave without seeing.

Story:  B                           Atmosfear:  A+              Set Design:  A                Intensity:  A


Roanoke: Cannibal Colony 

Roanoke leaves me with a lot of mixed emotions.  The concept of taking the lost colony of Roanoke and re-writing history to provide a reason for the disappearance of the colonists – starvation and eventual cannibalism – was certainly original and makes this one of the more interesting houses of the year to walk through.  In practice, however, there are a few drawbacks.  It’s not always easy to take the colonists seriously, especially when the house gives them awkward lines like “Beware the wendigo spirits!”  The house lacks any tangible intensity, and goes down much better if you’re looking for a “fun” house that isn’t necessarily scary.  My mixed feelings extend to the look of the house as well: the sets are quite good and give the house a very authentic feel, but they lack variety, and it’s often hard to distinguish any one scene from another in hindsight. Actually, the first time I went through here the only thing I could remember was bent wood and animal pelts.  The house doesn’t exactly work wonders at keeping the actors in your space.  But it does have a few creative hiding spots for them, including under a pile of severed legs and arms conspicuously sitting by a doorway.  Roanoke’s conclusion – complete with a two-story set and 12-foot, stilt walking Wendigos – is one of the year’s more effective finales.  In sum, it’s a very enjoyable mid-tier house if you go in with the right expectations.

Story:  B                           Atmosfear:  B-               Set Design:  B-               Intensity:  C



IN SUMMARY….

Halloween Horror Nights 24 does a lot of things well. The return of scarezones is a return to form for an event that has struggled with a repetitive and lackluster street experiences the last two years.  The quality of the houses is very evenly distributed this year, pretty much ensuring you won’t catch anything truly disappointing.  However, the “wow” factor is a little hard to come by this year – I find a lot of the houses to be very good, but there’s not one I can point to that really knocked me flat.  The overall quality of the sets seems like it took a step backwards this year too, with the exception of Dollhouse and Dracula.  I will say that I found myself more on edge in most of the houses than I usually do – and a lot of that has to do with the fact sprawling, wide sets have been abandoned this year.

I had more fun at this year’s HHN than I’ve had in years.  As always, it has my recommendation.  Still, from an objective point of view, I wouldn’t list it as one of the best in the last ten years.  It’s a solid year all around, but considering the lack of truly memorable houses or zones (or even a tagline), this might be a year we struggle to remember more than most.

Overall Grade:  B-

Theme Park Thoughts: Harry Potter & The Forbidden Journey

For a while now I've been trying to get some of my more vocal friends to contribute to the site, mainly due to my terrible back log of content that can never find its way from the "in progress" queue to the desired finished state as fast as I would like. A recent discussion with one of my best friends, Blizz, was sparked by a frequent topic of ours -- theme parks. In particular, the rants and narrative analysis I wanted to do on some of their attractions as part of the Theme Park Thoughts series. Luckily, Blizz's affinity for completed works far outweighs my own, and he has graciously allowed me to share his phenomenal narrative-based rant on a ride we both consider to be one of the best attractions of all-time: Harry Potter & The Forbidden Journey. Enjoy.

+          +          +

by Blizz

Originally written: June 3rd, 2012

Let me be clear, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey is one of the best rides I’ve ever been on. It also follows one of the most moronic plotlines ever conceived.

You could ask me why I’m freely choosing to pick on a ride that I actually think is one of the best attractions in the world, when I could just as easily take pot shots at some defenseless idiot of a ride, like Curse of DarKastle at Busch Gardens Williamsburg.  And I still might.  But it’s the fact that Forbidden Journey is so well-known and so beloved that makes its complete and utter disregard for the story it’s telling all the more inexplicable.

This review is my last-ditch attempt to understand why J.K. Rowling was such a stickler for details with every aspect of the Wizarding World…except when it came to its marquee attraction.  Maybe she was stuck in a daydream (presumably one vividly depicting all the fun people wouldn’t have on Pottermore), or maybe she figured whatever team was working on this could…I don’t know…do it themselves?

Whatever it was, something went wrong.

But enough intro, let’s get to the ride.

Prior to riding, we get a tour of many parts of the castle – we start first in the dungeons, then move into the greenhouse, and finally reach Dumbledore’s office, where the headmaster at last introduces us to our roles in this little adventure.  We’re muggles, apparently – the first ever to tour the castle.

And here, from the very first premise of the ride itself, my bullshit meters start going crazy.

If you think about what we’re being told here for even the slightest amount of time, your mind will explode with so many questions that this plot (already) deserves to be scrapped.  We’re talking the-Wizarding-World-has-experienced-society-shattering-changes-and-someone-better-tell-me-what-the-hell-they-are-before-my-brain-hemmorages type problems.

Doesn’t anyone remember the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy?  You know, the law exists to ensure that the Wizarding World is safely hidden from the muggle world.  I know I sound like a huge fanboy here, citing wizard-law, but really, this is isn’t a technicality.  It’s more like the fundamental basis of the Harry Potter universe.  The wizarding world is a secret.  Period.

There are big penalties for even the slightest infraction of this law – in a lot of cases, people’s wands are confiscated, which is kind of like removing your ability to be a contributing member of society.

So just what the fuck has happened that we’re suddenly giving everyday muggles tours of wizarding schools?  Was there great societal upheaval?  Has the Ministry of Magic completely collapsed now that anarchy reigns?  Does that mean Cornelius Fudge is rotting in Azkaban?  Are there riots in major muggle cities now that 7 billion people now know that there’s a sizable population that can do everything from erase their memories to turn them into tea kettles on a whim?  Is no one going to let me know if the resulting wide-spread mania is resulting in calls for World War III?

So, since it’s physically fucking impossible to even begin to sort out this alternate universe that Universal’s created, I’m going to have to go with the cleanest solution I can conjure up.  There’s no societal upheaval, there are no huge changes to the way the Wizarding World operates in the books and movies.  And that means...Dumbledore is a lunatic.

And I really think that’s a bold choice on the part of both Universal and J.K. Rowling.  You’d expect that they’d take the easy route and just have a completely sane Dumbledore give us a simple plotline.  Instead we get all this interesting subtext!  And let’s face it, no other ride sports a preshow where you’re literally unsure of whether or not the authority figure is too nuts to make it to the safety instructions before he blows his brains out in front of everyone.  You’ve got to hand it to the guy, this is the biggest screw-you to the man ever conceived.  You know, if the man was everyone you know and love.

Well I guess there WERE a few times where he KIND OF screwed everyone over...

And considering the conga line you’re walking in, it looks like Dumbledore’s not just making an exception to the rule.  He’s got the Ford fucking assembly line going here, mass producing treason. What an asshole.

Finally, feeling crushed and dumbfounded, we’re allowed to make our way into the next preshow, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione sneak in to tell us that we’re headed straight for a boring lecture telling us all about Wizarding history which, after the complete catastrophe that was the last preshow, I’d actually be pretty damn interested in.  But the trio assure me I’ll have a more fun if I follow them and go get burned alive, smashed, and eaten – I mean…go watch a game of Quidditch.

I haven’t even the slightest idea why Harry wants to be a part of Dumbledore’s batshit plan to watch the world burn, and I certainly can’t figure out why he’d risk the likely inhuman punishment that surely follows from derailing the first ever tour of Hogwarts just so guests can watch him play sports.  Does that make Harry strangely a narcissistic jackass?  I mean…possibly.  Still, considering there were no universe-shattering revelations in this scene, I leave feeling like I got off scot free.

So we wander aimlessly around random rooms in the castle, because son-of-a-bitch Harry told us to meet him in the Room of Requirement (you know, that hidden magical room that only a few people know about?), but neglected to give us any directions to get there.  Thanks, Harry.  As I’m forced to remember all too often, I’m a muggle, meaning that my experience in navigating foreign castles with shifting staircases is pretty close to nil.

As a result, we go completely out of our way and  stumble through the Gryffindor Common Room before finally doubling back to find the Room of Req.  There we find some magic benches that Hermione has enchanted to fly.  She smiles and says a spell I don’t recognize, and then the theme music whisks us off into the ride.

Suddenly we’re at the top of the astronomy tower.  As if to confirm that this isn’t going to be the shortest ride ever, Ron conveniently points out the obvious:  “Hermione did it!  They’re flying!”

We head out towards the Quidditch pitch until Hagrid stops us by the bridge, holding up some large broken shackles.  “Haven’t seen the dragon, have yeh?”

So…I guess Hagrid’s breaking the law again, and got another dragon, this time a full grown one, which he’s been keeping in secret on school premises.  I find this a little hard to believe, since he couldn’t keep a baby secret for more than 5 minutes after it hatched.  At least this blind spot is consistent with Hagrid’s character, but I’m also sure I heard one of the paintings say “Did you hear?  Hagrid’s lost the dragon again,” on my way through the queue line.  So, does everyone know about clearly illegal animal freely roaming the grounds?  Did all the third years pool their money together to buy a Hungarian Horntail as a class pet?  For reference, this thing is thirty feet tall and wants to murder everything in sight.

 Just to be sure, everyone's ok with this murder-machine living right next door, right?

We’re chased around by this fire-breathing ball of death until we fall face first into the Forbidden Forest.  Flashes of lightning tell us that it’s time to be afraid.  I briefly ponder how all these flashes can penetrate the thick layers upon layers of leaves that block out all sunlight (especially when I didn’t see any lightning in the actual sky ten seconds ago). Maybe the forest generates its own internal weather patterns that only exist below the canopy?  But I digress, and the ride reminds me that I have bigger problems by promptly spitting in my face.

For once, that’s actually not me being dramatic – a spider the size of a Toyota Tundra bursts out of the forest and spits in my face.  The other spiders in the forest start following suit, and pretty soon I’m just living out a nightmare I probably have every five nights anyway.

This is leaving me pretty nervous over the status of our heroes.  Harry and Ron are nowhere to be found.  Were they burned off-screen by the dragon while we weren’t looking?  Were they torn apart by these aracontulas while I was blinded by spider-spit?  Surely they wouldn’t leave us for dead…it’s their fault we’re in this mess anyway, so just where the hell are they?

Luckily, Hermione’s here (…huh?) to lead us out of the forest.  Yeah…she’s there…standing right in the middle of this spider-lair making not even the slightest attempt to conceal herself.  That’s ok, though, since the spiders are crawling all around her, ignoring her presence completely.  How did she even know we were here, considering we were all the way across school grounds when we ran into trouble?  More perplexing:  How did she even get here?  She then calmly delivers the biggest understatement she can manage:  “The forest isn’t safe!”

So anyway, we escape the woods, dodge the Whomping Willow, and head to the Quidditch Pitch.  Though, considering our escorts have probably been dismembered over the course of the last two scenes, I’m not really sure why we we’re still going.

We get there and…son of a bitch…

Harry’s perfectly unscathed.  And what’s worse, over the last three or four scenes, it’s immediately apparent that he’s been ignoring our imminent death to play sports.  As if to rub it all in, he turns back to us and says:  “Where’ve you been?”

Where’ve I been!?  Where’ve YOU been, you dick?

No wonder.

Is this the same Harry Potter I read about?  This guy reminds me more of a complete sociopath than anything else.  Seriously, there’s no way that Harry simply didn’t notice we were gone.  There’s no way he didn’t notice that that disappearance coincided EXACTLY with the moment we were attacked by a vicious dragon.  The only explanation is that he intentionally left us behind because we were holding him up on his way to his precious Quidditch match.  Holy Christ, what happened to that “saving people” thing? 

He says, “The snitch, follow me!”  The ride says we should, but I have a suspicion that we’re all only doing this because we want to catch this guy and wring his neck.

We really only have time to hear Draco Malfoy spout some generic trash-talking line about Harry’s mother before the plot, once and for all, collapses completely.

And it happens with one line.

“Dementors!”

Thanks, Ron.

This one word leaves me feeling so insulted on so many levels, that I feel I need to freeze our progression right here, right now.

I’m going to start by noting that the dialogue in this ride has almost completely fallen apart at this point.  There are almost no lines that last more than three words, and we’re inhabiting some sort of weird, Scooby-Doo type universe where all the characters only exist to state the skull-numbingly obvious.

“The Dragon!” --  “Dementors!” -- “They’re flying!” along with about twenty variations of the phrase “Look out!” comprise the entirety of the script.  I know it’s a ride, not a movie, but seriously – it’s not too hard to put actual characters into a ride, instead of a collection of sounding boards.  Here, let’s use an example from my personal favorite dark ride, The Amazing Adventures of Spiderman.

ORIGINAL VERSION

J. Jonah:  My SCOOP! My beautiful SCOOP…!

[Doc Ock misses Spiderman and hits a theater sign with his levitation cannon.]

Spiderman:  Woa!  Doc, your aim’s worse than your haircut!

Ock:  Well it’s good enough for your sitting-duck friends! [Blasts the SCOOP.] Have a nice trip!

[SCOOP rises up into the NYC skyline.]

Spiderman:  Hey, wait for me!  You’re not insured for this!

HP-altered Version

J. Jonah:  It isn’t safe out there!

[Ock misses theater sign]

Spiderman:  Woa!  You missed.

Ock:  I can still catch your friends. [Hits SCOOP.] I got you!

[SCOOP rises]

Spiderman:  You’re flying!

[Spiderman watches SCOOP rise, but neglects to follow.  He takes out his camera to take pictures for Bugle, realizing that it’s both inconvenient to pursue it and that he needs some shots to get his paycheck tomorrow.  Oh, Mary Jane’s calling.  He’ll catch up with the plot later.]

You see what happens when you take a pretty good scene and strip it down to a narration?  And on top of it, add characters acting completely out of character?  It sounds stupid as hell, doesn’t it?

Ok, now let’s get to the bigger issue here.  Dementors.  Their presence and the reaction to it is so insane and baffling that they deserve a few paragraphs of commentary, just to themselves.

First off, everyone knows muggles can’t see dementors right?  Like, that’s the one creature that JKR went out of her way to mention was invisible to non-magic folk.  And this ride already took such pains to call us muggles…I’m just left dumbfounded.

Why the fuck are they here?  They have no reason to be.  There are no dark wizards on the loose.  Even if they were acting rogue, how did they get onto the school grounds?  Did Dumbledore think it was a good idea to let them in on the same day that he let muggles into the school for the first time?  Is he trying to kill us?  This is starting to look increasingly likely, and I’m forced to wonder why the most logical solution for every plothole so far has been that Dumbledore is a cackling maniac.

You really ARE a scumbag...

And why is no one reacting to this?  A horde of SOUL-SUCKING MONSTERS has descended onto the playing field and is KILLING ATHLETES RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE SPECTATORS.  If your response is anything below the level of “HOLY SHIT” then you have some serious issues.  The most we hear is “Dementors!” and maybe an “Oh no!”?

What kind of screwed up alternate Hogwarts did we fall into?  There’s no connection between any of the events that have transpired so far.  Want proof?  Tell me, if this plotline was presented to you ENTIRELY IN REVERSE, would it make any less sense?

No, of course not, because this whole thing is one big montage.  It’s like we’re riding Jimmy Neutron’s Nicktoon Blast or something.

Ok, now that I’ve got this all off my chest…let’s continue.  Somehow we fall into what I believe is the Chamber of Secrets and have to dodge the dementors we shouldn’t be able to see but can anyway.  Harry’s gone missing again.  No surprises there.  Finally, when things finally look their bleakest, Harry’s forced to finally do a good deed and save us all by Expecto Patronum-ing all the dementors.

“Follow me!” he says.  Then, suddenly, the tunnel starts caving in, for what reason I don’t know.  In any case, this is the script’s last chance to make an impression on me and it does a marvelous job, as Harry shouts out such memorable lines as “It’s caving in!” and “Watch out!” And who could forget the part when he said “We have to get out, quick!”  Pure gold, all of it.

So after escaping Wild Arctic’s finale, we immediately fly to the great hall, where Harry’s being held up by the entire Gryffindor team, snitch-in-hand.  “Thanks everybody!  You were brilliant!”

I mean, I guess I was pretty—Hey wait.  Wait.  When did you catch that snitch Harry,  huh?  I don’t think you caught it in the game – it was interrupted by dementors.  The only time you could’ve gotten it was…oh no.  You piece of crap.

The only explanation is that Harry went back to get it while we were in the Chamber running from dementors.  Seriously?  He abandoned us AGAIN for sports?  What kind of a person does that?  Oh my GOD this is insane.

This is the ONLY argument for not killing him right now, on the spot.

Dumbledore says I’m welcome back “anytime,” but it’s Harry’s betrayal I’m still reeling from when my feet touch the ground again.  Wow.

So what’s the end result?  Well, contrary to everything you’ve read, this is, as I stated from the beginning, actually one of the best rides in the world.  It’s succeeds with flying colors in every area EXCEPT the plot, so I should to acknowledge it’s better than just about every other dark ride on the planet (ahem, except Spidey).  But I mean…come on.  How hard is it really to think up a plot that isn’t so completely at odds with common sense, when you have the author on board?

Oh well.  I guess there’s nothing more I can do.  Nothing, I suppose, besides frantically re-reading the entire Potter series, starting with the assumption that Harry really is in love with his own celebrity, while Dumbledore spends the majority of his time plotting unique and grisly ends for each of the supporting characters.  I expect interesting results.

Theme Park Thoughts: "Courageous. Outrageous. Extraordinary."

 
by XdarksparkX

Originally written: December 27, 2010

There is a place, just beyond the horizon there, that calls to me. If you look closely, you can see a faint ray of light, twirling every so gracefully. It’s caster no doubt had begun its cycle a mere few hours after the sun has been chased away from the heavens by the impeding twilight. Can you see it? No? Well, such is to be expected of the non-believers; the doubters of that place and its true existence. Sure, they will see it when they’re close enough, when they are standing within the daunting shadow of the casting lighthouse, but I however do not need to see the source to know that the light is there. I see it every time I look up at the lonely, darkened night skies. It casts itself across the endless sea of black nothingness we call space to call to me… it calls for my return.

When I had discovered this place in all it’s true splendor, I needed it more than I ever knew back then. Back some 800 miles to the north of here, I had been judged as if I had committed despicable acts akin to first-degree murder. Paranoia beseeched me in this place I had been forced to call home for the majority of the past 21 years, and everywhere I turned I could hear the nonexistent words that came from the condescending mouths of the decadent: “He doesn’t have a job, the last college course he took was two years ago, he has to drive his mom’s car to get anywhere. The lack of his relenting hand has bred an inability to use the measurement calculations that we have imposed on this life script to define one’s self-worth at a glance. Ergo: Loser.”

Not here though.

The aforementioned lighthouse loomed above me on this warm October day. Most would gaze upon this structure and take awe in it’s size, for his presence was easily associated with pure intimidation. I however, saw it as my towering protector, it would shield me from all outside critiques and judgments. It’s light did not beckon fabled travelers to it—no, it beckoned me, and all those like me who felt the deafening criticisms surround them and violently force them into thoughts of negative self-worth as a way to say “come, you are safe here.”

The whimsical, mystical sweeps of the strings, followed by the proud and triumphant horns strung themselves from the warm Floridian air into the deepest depths of my ear cartilage. This music had an unexplainable grace and enchantment to it. I felt elated by it, emboldened to step forth into the familiar and the undiscovered equally. As such, each note seemed to puppeteer another step beyond my protector and into the heart of what they call “The Port of Entry”.

To the average park-goer, this was nothing more than another theme-park main street. To those of us who can see beyond this mere façade, it is something so much more. The text “The Adventure Begins”, which is inscribed upon a crumbling stone archway as you venture deeper into the heart of the Port, does not beckon you to mere amusement rides and attractions. No, it beckons you to a journey within yourself. The fantastical worlds you are about to explore are mere reflections of your innermost desires and fears. The attempt to recapture toddler innocence, the simplicity of childhood ‘black and white / good versus evil’ dichotomy, the empowerment of conquering coming-of-age adversity, the joys of twilight year retrospection and pratfalls, and the fears of the inevitable appearance of the specter known as death lying in wait just beyond the brush.

This journey into self begins with the colorful misshapes and abstract—almost demented architecture of a place known as Seuss Landing. Before structural feasibility infiltrated our brains, Theodore S. Geisel under the pseudonym of “Dr. Seuss” brought to us a place where all things were possible; the word “impossible” was merely a careless misspelling of “I’m possible”. A place that, while fantastical in nature, somehow drew stark reflections to a deeper, darker world that we—at the time—were all but oblivious to. Seuss Landing is the start of the journey, for it requires us to remember when life was simpler, when we could be who and what we wanted to be, when harsh and cruel judgment existed in the same way that quantum physics did: within a field far beyond our small world, peacefully oblivious to its being. It is a reminder for all of us to rediscover that innocence, even after the world around us has been tainted by the harshness of adulthood.

With each transition into the next phase of the journey (or to the simplistic, with each voyage to a different island), the experience becomes a metaphorical pendulum. Always reflecting back to it’s starting point in order to achieve momentum and progress. I fuel this concept by passing the origin point of this journey and discover my next stop to be Marvel Superhero Island. I have stepped into a world where everything is as simple as we all wish it were out there. There is good, and there is evil. Very little gray, very few waning towards both sides. To join into the fray is only to give us a peace of mind that this line of thinking isn’t completely wrong. After helping a friendly neighborhood web-crawling superhero, and climbing into a ‘Gamma Ray Accelerator’ and unleashing the pure rage within that comes from the frustrations of remembering how it felt to be “too young to have a voice worth hearing”, I can’t say I disagree. However, even though the heroes and villains painted into this life-sized canvas are easily identifiable, it may be that way because we want them to be. We want—nay, need it to be that simplistic. In a way, we’re still children. We still want things laid out like a neatly made five-star hotel bedspread. This island may gratify that need, but the fact that the villains are never truly vanquished, in that they always manage to find a way to re-appear and harass the superheroes with another overly elaborate plan to take over the city and / or world, should really crumble the very foundation of that illusion. This fact stares us dead in the eye down the alley of Yancy Street, where the terrifying Dr. Doom extracts the fear from the very marrow of your being, in the same fashion without interruption from the Fantastic Four, over and over again and again no matter how many times you board his Fear Fall Towers. In order to achieve peace, gray area must not only exist, but is required. This seems to speak to the darker truth of the island, the truth that we so hastily refuse for fear of disillusionment and thus the inevitable progression to the next Island: the battle here is futile, because the war can never end.

Swinging back once again across the Port’s shoreline, I fondly remember a time of wonderment as I pass through Geisel’s landing. Yet when I reach the northern outskirts of the landing, I am faced with the most contrasting change in the journey yet. The world gets suddenly more drab as I walk over a rustic bridge, the menacing statue of a Griffin guardian bearing a torch greeting me upon arrival on the adjacent shore. This is the Lost Continent, and while not wholly what it used to be, the change that overtook the majority of this Island is one that suits the outlook I am scribing more appropriately. This Island has become a mere buffer, the space and time in between what was left of our childhood and what lies ahead in our coming-of-age. The wonderment of exploration is the motif here, a reflection of our dire attempts to break out and discover a world unknown to us as our existence turns to teen-hood.

And then, it appears. A dark stone archway abruptly halts the wonderment of the unknown. It seems I have found teen-hood, and in hindsight I think it was better left undiscovered. Yet still I venture forth, under the archway, my heart hammering within my ears. A town covered in snow awaits beyond. The buildings seem to completely wall the external world out—an architectural hallway leading to a destination unknown. There is an unsettling air about this place though, it’s not nearly as welcoming and joyous as it would like you to believe. Perhaps a metaphor of the deceit that lay in wait in the years to come?

The first horror of this place reveals itself via monstrous, otherworldly roars. My gaze snaps to the right, and the first detour of this leg of the introspection has begun.

Twin dragons are furiously careening towards and around each other. Spiraling almost out of control, yet with a precise and calculated grace that is almost foreign to me. They beckon to be challenged; to be conquered. The stark duality, and yet striking contractility of them is an axiom in itself. Two dragons, and yet one warrior. A choice must be made. By choosing which dragon to tame, we are making the choice of who we want to become. Past the point of no return, our only choice: to freeze, or burn?

The choices are intriguing to say the least. To the left lies the Fire dragon’s cavern, which was likely to leave you as a forgettable pile of ash for daring to take such a bold choice on brazen chance. However, the Ice dragon to the right threatens to keep you standing still, never achieving what you want… lost amidst frigid waves of “could haves” and “would haves.” The latter struck a little too close to home at the present time, and so if I was already partially frozen, best to attempt to thaw yourself out than further complete the process. And so the flame-wielding dragon tossed and spun me about, only to eventually subside when it careened towards the castle it departed from and crashed unceremoniously into a crumbling stone façade.

Dismounting the beast, adrenaline is deeply rooted and coursing throughout my bloodstream. I have conquered it, and I feel as though nothing that is or was could ever hope to bring me down. I disembark from the castle ruin, only to find myself tracing my steps back towards it in order to conquer the beast’s raging twin. Here, I am free to leave no stone unturned without consequence. It is because of this, that I am able to solve the conundrum of the true nature of the beast’s duality, and the why of their existence. To best these creatures, you must to conquer both, and not favor one or the other, lest you wish for the effects of the favored dragon to curse you with its eternal consequences.

Having bested the airborne beasts, I wander deeper into this world with a newly instilled confidence. Then, as I round a corner, I feel the air seemingly drained from my very lungs (which in hindsight seems like a petty precursor for certain creatures that dwelled within the castle’s walls), the thoughts of triumph purged from my contemplative queue. The towering castle upon the jagged cliff-side manages to claim the feelings of dread, wonder, and terror all at once. Yet still, I find myself venturing towards it, and subsequently deeper into it’s depths.

When I re-emerge from the depths of the cliff face, I am unsure what exactly has transpired in there. Things once thought agreeable became terrifying, uncertainty flooding my brain and making it the only thought my neurons could relay. Logic was turned upside down, akin to viewing a magician’s illusions for the first time. Now, in retrospect, the true concept of it all was that you were to purposefully stare various Demented apparitions of death in the very eye, and come out the other side able to tell the tale. Perhaps the purpose of this Forbidden Journey in the grand scheme of this introspective excursion serves as a message that as we conquer teenage adversity, we must accept that death exists and is mere inches away from us at times, if we are to ever hope to exhaust our existence to its greatest extent. The enlightenment of the overcome adversity brings forth the tragic realization that all things must come to an inevitable end.

Once this realization has set in, we do not care to focus on it. Instead, we care to focus on the good times—the funny papers, if you will. Toon Lagoon helps us do just that.

Once you hit an age where what you remember from your childhood is seemingly lost on the newly ushered generation of today, a certain bond and appreciation seems to stem towards what your elders remembered from their childhoods. An appreciation of the fact that we all, at one point or another, existed within the very capacity that we have just realized has past us by far too quickly. The majority of the characters that reside in Toon Lagoon are well before the time I came into being, and yet this does not hinder my appreciation for this Island. Maybe I didn’t grow up watching Dudley Do-Right miraculously manage to outwit Snidely Whiplash and save Nell Fenwick; or Popeye freakishly down a can of spinach before upper-cutting Bluto into the atmosphere of the moon in honor of Olive Oyl, but damn it, I embrace these characters as if I did. The familiarity perhaps comes with the fact that these characters were lost amidst the shuffle of oncoming generations and interests, just as the characters my childhood claims have finally been lost amongst this generation.

The last stop is a fitting oxymoron: to reach the end, you must go back to before the beginning. Jurassic Park becomes the final stop, after the laugher has faded away and we know that the inevitable end is waiting just around the corner…

Before I board the boat destined to take me to world’s end, I can see the spires of that mystical castle just over the lush jungle foliage. Fitting, I suppose, for it was at that point when the realization that the reaper will come for you inevitably one day fully set in.

The boat begins its serene journey through giant wooden doors, where a naturally carved estuary feeds into a biological nature preserve of creatures thought to be extinct so many years ago. Only through miraculous engineering do they stand before me today, though the pit of my stomach can’t help but feel that marveling at this slight against the universe is an action that shall not go unpunished.

Deeper into the river, into a natural spring where herds of Stegosaurs are currently residing. Simply breathtaking creatures to behold, even though they are technically no different than a modern-day rhinoceros. Perhaps lack of familiarity and exposure makes these creatures more wondrous than they would’ve been in their heyday.

As the venture continues, a blithe Hadrosaurus gets a bit too playful. Knocked off my predestined course, I find the attempts to rear the boat back futile, and thus I slowly drift past the point of no return and towards the carnivore paddocks. Suddenly, everything has changed. I have gone from assuming my days would end peacefully in my sleep, to suddenly becoming a hospital patient going code-blue.

Passing desolate foreshadowing remains of what awaits me, my heart threatens to burst forth straight out of my chest. I manage to steer the boat towards the old Maintenance Building, where my raft catches on to the diagnostic and storage lift, and is slowly pulled upwards into the darkness.

Vicious packs of Dromaeosauridae (or “Raptors”, for those more familiar with Steven Spielberg’s terminology) have overrun this building, and surely my end will be at the hands of their feeding. Yet, when the boat manages to reach the top of the lift and turn a corner, I find a much bigger predator awaits to claim my fate.

An awe-inspiring Tyrannosaur looms before me, having apparently broken through the concrete walls and unwittingly lodged itself in place. I have no where to go, no place to hide; the lift slowly pulls me closer and closer to the awaiting maw that the Rex boasts. Yet I do not fear it, not anymore. I have accepted this, and I have prepared for the inevitable cease of my existence. It is something we all must do at one point or another.

When only a few feet from the beast, the Rex proceeds to lunge towards me, only to miss by mere cubic inches. His breath reeks of death and decay, and yet that particular fate is one I seem to have eluded. A wayward pipe, broken by his sudden presence, crashed down a second earlier, creating a haphazard waterfall which my boat could do nothing but careen down. And so I plummet down its slope, a mere puppet of the never-ender known as gravity.

Water rains down upon me as the schooner crashes into the peaceful lagoon that rests within the shadow of the building. This is the perfect signal—the sign from the heavens that my journey, my unequivocal physical existence within this place, has come to an end. The waters that shower me do nothing but cleanse and refresh. This final stroke is the crescendo of an epic musical number. My adventure, as well as I, have ceased to exist.

However, in this place there is no death—there is only rebirth. For the waters wash away the colors of the shame that they gave to me, only for me to see again… to live again. As if by some cataclysmic event, or some obscure wormhole theory, I find myself back in the place where it all began without clue or idea as to how. A familiar arch now leaves a different message for me: “The Adventure Lives On.”

I have conquered raging twin dragons, and I have saved a city from total annihilation (with the help of super-powered friends). I have relished my past, laughed at my future, and I have accepted the existence of my inevitable end by staring 65 million year-old harbingers of death in the eye. They do not care, but here, they do not matter. Here the adventure is your own—the Islands mere theoretical LEGO pieces available to construct your own free-standing sense of self. Where the adventure ends, lies with you and you alone. For me, I know the adventure, unlike life, shall live eternal.

Before I know it, I have ventured out of the Port to find myself back once again within the shadow of the lighthouse—my protector, always and forever. In this, the dead of nightfall, it’s beacon further reassures me that it will never let harm nor sorrow infiltrate me when I step beyond the wrought iron gate adjacent to it’s base. Standing here now is the only time where I am once again blatantly aware of my being, of my physical existence in the here-and-now. Everything that has transpired over the last 72 hours feels as if it were an event within the narcosis of sleep—a fantastical dream-like bliss. Yet I know for a fact that the memories have a more solid weight than that of a dream’s vacant haze. I was there, I existed, and I experienced every image that is now just out of reach.

My protector has no expression, nor does it need one. It simply need to shine its light towards the horizon, knowing that one day I will follow its ray back to my true home, and we will meet again with the unwavering smiles and “hello’s” of old-acquaintances. Until we meet again, my old friend.

I know what awaits me when I return to my northeastern abode, they will tell me that it all wasn’t real—that it was all “make-believe”. What is ‘make-believe?’ The construct of that which is not real, by definition? Then what defines ‘real?’ Something our brains register to us and us alone as ‘existing’? Then surely what a schizophrenic sees when having a psychotic episode is ‘real’, is it not? If the perception of realism comes solely from the verification of others, how can anything be christened ‘real’ when humans have the infinite capability to lie in order to feel their existence and opinion is accepted and validated by their peers?

Perhaps they tell me it’s make-believe because it is not what surrounds us daily. What surrounds us in this blue sphere that slowly circles an epic star is death, destruction, and ruin and that to them is reality. Elation and acceptance, especially the kind I feel back there, is something artificial—a way for the pathetic human to desperately balance and cope with the mass amounts of decadence that has been pumped into this world. But maybe the decadence exists is such copious quantities in order to keep the heartless machine known as society well-oiled and churning. Fear, after all, is a much better controlling agent and slave master than joy. Ah, but to find the truth to all this, the classic existentialistic question must be answered: ‘What came first, the chicken or the egg?’

Surely scribing all of these thoughts out is only going to incur them to spawn the classic “you’re looking too far into it” euphemism. Be it a theme-park, movie, story, idea, etc. I have heard that tripe one time too many for my liking. Am I really looking too hard, or are you not looking hard enough?

“You will not be judged. Not here—never here.” The spectral light speaks to me now, even though it’s caster has been enveloped by the finite vision of the horizon, “Come be how you want to, be who you were always meant to be. Here, take the chances you are so afraid to take out there, and take them without fear of the ridicule you have taken shelter from. This is the place where the cowardice within dies, and the bravery within shall arise. So come forth, and be courageous, be outrageous, be extraordinary.”

* * *