Given the title of this website (at least the “philosophy” part of the title, not the “roller coaster” part), the EPCOT Center should have been an ideal subject to critically review, and maybe even champion. EPCOT Center was the rare theme park in which the word “theme” referred to underlying ideas and an overarching philosophy, rather than simply the decorations that simulate some sort of Baudrillardian fantasy environment (although there was also plenty of that at the EPCOT Center as well). Public intellectuals such as Ray Bradbury lent a hand in the design process, and their goal was perhaps the most ambitious ever envisaged for a theme park: to change the world for the better. Split between Future World and the World Showcase, the narrative of a visit to the EPCOT Center was designed to ask the audience two very important questions. First, where are we going? And second, where did we come from? One eye to the future and one eye to the past, and this epic story of human’s capacity for wonder and enlightenment unfolds over the course of a single day. Here’s food for thought: why did the designers choose a park layout in which you would encounter these philosophical themes in “reverse chronology” rather than the other way around?

One possible interpretation I’d like to offer is that, as an “Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow”, EPCOT Center wanted to represent the best aspects of capitalism, communism, and fascism within a single master plan for a utopian community. And before I get any complaints in the comments, please note I said the best aspects. From capitalism you get a technologically determined civilization in which the best people with the brightest ideas are enabled to rise to the top for the economic betterment of all society. From communism you get a global community of multicultural citizens all working for the common good of mankind within a (superficially, at least) classless society. And from fascism you get the centralized mechanism that organizes it all, directing humankind towards a singular agenda (which is not “let’s exterminate the Jews!”). The EPCOT Center was to be the 21st century’s shining city upon a hill, built in a state where the sun shines brightly but there are no hills.

I refer to this all in the past tense, of course, because the EPCOT Center is no more. In its place we have Epcot, a theme park built upon great optimism that has become faded by about two decades of compromise. Cartoon characters or famous faces abound, based on a criterion that included them wherever they could be rather than wherever they should be. Attractions frequently have little or no thematic purpose for the message of the park and its individual chapters, seemingly added to Epcot on the belief that if you build it they will come.¹ And for a park founded upon an ideal of universal connectedness it’s become oddly segregated into three distinct marketing demographics, with Future World East aimed at thrill seekers, Future World West appealing primarily to children, and the World Showcase becoming the adult hangout, with its emphasis on touring the world through food, drink, and culture porn. (More on that later.)

Although Epcot is still arguably one of the most experimental theme parks in the world today, missing from it is a sense of challenge, where deeper levels of engagement with the park’s narrative will provide greater reward. Everything goes too far out of its way to intentionally please our sensibilities, as if management is overcompensating to reverse the perception that the original park was too serious and not enough fun (which I’m not suggesting couldn’t also be a legitimate criticism). Much of Epcot has unfortunately settled into an awkward intermediary between popular entertainment and pop-intellectualism, where an educational pretense is outwardly projected, concealing an interior ride, show, or game in which the primary function is amusement, and with a single obvious token message spelled out in big letters that doesn’t require (or even request) any thought in order to accept its apparent validity. The “educational” aspect is frequently too conspicuous to ignore, yet too superficial to reflect on. If the delivery of Epcot’s messages was doing what it was supposed to do as a “Permanent World’s Fair”, then upon finishing an attraction the question should be “What did I think about it?” or even “Do I agree with it?”, not simply “Did I like it?”. This seems to be the dividing line that separates the way we respond to work labeled “art” versus “entertainment”. However ambitious or visionary Epcot might be, it’s still a theme park and in this culture theme parks wear a fixed label that reads “escapist entertainment”. It should be no surprise that after thirty years Epcot would eventually follow the lead of market demand.

Is it better to have tried and failed than to have not tried at all? I’m sympathetic to the frustration felt when an ambitious work that I admire is harshly criticized for its shortcomings, especially when the same critics lavish praise on other works that are plainly by-the-numbers crowd pleasers that only succeed at what they’re supposed to do and nothing more. When creating something original it can often be extremely difficult to find the right combination of words, or arrangement of imagery, or chord progression that is able to express what has never been expressed before. Nevertheless I don’t think Epcot can be excused of its flaws so easily just because it tried something new. For one, it’s abundantly clear that Epcot is not the creative vision of one individual, but the result of many hundreds of visions across several decades of time. Good and bad influences can be identified without disrupting any sort of holistic artistic process, and Epcot still has the capacity to be a better park tomorrow than it was yesterday.

But even acknowledging that such bad influences exist, it’s easy to hypothesize that if Epcot had stayed true to the original vision put forth by Walt and resisted commercial compromise, it would have been great. Perhaps for some it would have been, but at its core Disney’s ideology has always been a brand of conservative populism that, even if communicated flawlessly, I doubt I’d ever find myself a full supporter of. Disney parks in general and Epcot in particular are designed to be very manipulative places. I don’t mean to imply a negative connotation, since that manipulative quality is very much part of the popular mythology that makes Disney loved by so many people (but also hated by some). Everything is clean and controlled at a Disney park, and it’s fun to look for the cracks within the perfectly orchestrated show only because everyone knows you won’t be able to find them… and if you do that’s a very bad thing. There have been plenty of attempts throughout history, both before and after Epcot, to create a utopia on Earth by means of urban planning, and have been done under the banners of capitalism, communism, and fascism. What most of them have in common is the plan wants to be in control, so it can lead us flawed humans to realize our full potential and discover the ideal solution without any dissenters that become radically disruptive. Sitting in our privileged seats at the edge of postmodernism it’s easy to see why these plans never completely work, and I have no reason to believe that Epcot, if done right, would have been the exception. My answer to Epcot’s grand questions about itself: this is not where we should go from here, or who we all are.

Future World East

It’s ironic that a place called “Future World” would be so obsessed with the past. Many of the original attractions such as Spaceship Earth were much more about the history of technology rather than presenting a vision of the future. Perhaps the designers just didn’t want to repeat themselves with the never-ending updates required for Tomorrowland, but by showcasing the history of communications or transportation or agriculture and then naming it our “future”, Disney again sets themselves up for more easy criticism from the intellectual sphere that they promote a version of history that views technology as the primary driver of cultural progress that societies must adapt to. Perhaps they could have spared themselves from misinterpretations and simply called it Disney’s Museum of Science and Industry, but then no one would want to pay nearly $100 for a one-day ticket. Besides, most of today’s Future World, particularly Future World East, consists of thrill rides that use rather free definitions of modern science and industry. In my opinion the best thing that can be said about Future World is the number of structures that could be of some interest to students of architecture and design. Most notable among these examples is Epcot’s magnificent centerpiece that leaves contradictory impressions of an impossibly enormous mass effortlessly suspended in space.

Spaceship Earth

What is the great difference between man and the animals? Assuming the answer is not just man’s hubris that makes him so cocksure there is a great difference, it would seem to be found somewhere in Homo sapiens’s ability to symbolize both concrete objects and abstract ideas to others of his species through the shared meaning of language. This is the premise of Spaceship Earth, which presents the history of civilization (from cavemen to Steve Wozniak, even giving the Phoenicians a brief shout-out) from the context of information and communication; the yin and yang of the technological world. Could this choice of interpretation be a philosophical statement about the forces that guide the development of society, or is it just the result of the ride’s sponsorship by telecommunication companies? Probably some of both, although refracting such broad subject matter through this thematically narrow prism brings the risk of anachronistic historical reductionism, such as the narrator’s (voiced by Judi Dench) claim that the Roman roads were the first information network, as if the ancient Romans were already anticipating the invention of the World Wide Web in 200 B.C. Has communication been the driver of history, or are there other forces at work as well? It’s a fair question, although I won’t be offended if Spaceship Earth leaves a few things unanswered as it’s such a tremendous aesthetic vision that it’s hard not to be impressed regardless. There’s a point at which we’re looking up at a starry night sky, then our seats rotate and the stars transform into a fiber optic digital grid that we fall backwards through, and my mind hasn’t been this blown since I first saw the “Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite” section of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Unfortunately this is immediately followed by a silly interactive cartoon short that shows our choice of future selves, and while the ability to make faces for the camera offers some reride value for jokesters, the bright puerile tone is a jarring contrast to the dimly austere attraction we had been riding before that point. WWRBT: What Would Ray Bradbury Think?

Grade: B-

Innoventions

The Innoventions West pavilion appeared to be mostly a character meet-and-greet hall when I walked through, but Innoventions East was home to a few interactive exhibits that seemed more worth my time. Most notably The Sum of All Thrills, which lets you design your own virtual roller coaster on a touch screen and then ride a simulation of it on a Kuka Robocoaster arm. The mission of the exhibit is to inspire the next generation of mathematicians, engineers, and scientists, although I couldn’t help but feel they were setting up kids for disappointment by representing the coaster design profession as run by chicly dressed 20-somethings who play on swivel chairs and listen to rock music all day in an expensive contemporary office filled with state-of-the-art touchscreen computers. Nearby is the VISION House, a guided tour through the home of Hugo and Nadine Monteverde to demonstrate the latest and greatest in environmentally friendly home technology. The tour is almost entirely a direct sales pitch for various products, recalling Future World’s original purpose of corporate showcasing, updated for 21st century consumers. I have to admit they did a pretty good sales job as not only did they have our group gather around to admire a smart-eco-toilet, but people were eager to feel and sit on the toilet for themselves after the presentation was over. For me however the tour was far more exotic: a simulation of a green upper-middle class domestic lifestyle that I doubt I’ll ever attain, nor do I particularly desire.

Grade: C

Universe of Energy

There’s a lot of acclaim associated with the title of the world’s biggest and longest roller coaster, but the title for world’s biggest and longest dark ride goes relatively unrecognized. If there’s one thing I admire most about the Universe of Energy, it’s how stunningly big it is. The show takes place within several massive cavernous rooms filled with either animatronic dinosaurs or wrap around projection screens. Three cars travel together either inline or side-by-side, and each car can seat approximately a hundred passengers, making it less of a dark ride and more of a moving auditorium. We’re warned before boarding that the ride will take thirty seven minutes to complete (so make sure you won’t need to go to the bathroom), and this time doesn’t even include the eight minute preshow film. Even the most jaded must feel a few subliminal stirrings deep down when immersed inside anything of such unquantifiable scale. I also enjoy that the narrative is relatively non-conventional amongst theme park attractions, as the long runtime allows it to go down some unexpected tangential paths, and it can be hard to predict what will happen next. Part of this is due to hosts Ellen DeGeneres and Bill Nye, whose improvisational acting style (supposedly all taking place within a lucid dream of Ellen’s) seems to have heavily influenced the show writers as well. And while I appreciate that Disney allowed one of their major attractions to contain so much irreverent humor, there’s also a lot irrelevant humor. The 1996 makeover into “Ellen’s Energy Adventure” can seem eerily dated for today’s audiences, hurt mostly by the ironic lampooning of 90’s-era sitcom and game show tropes, but also because Ellen and Bill, both still popular media figures, clearly don’t look the same now as they did over a decade ago. There’s a few things to learn along the way (e.g. the pros and cons of various electric energy sources, or that the Big Bang was an event that probably happened), but spread across forty five minutes it can start to feel educationally flimsy, with too much time devoted to directionless comedic rambling. Should the Universe of Energy ever get a third incarnation, let’s hope Imagineering can fine tune the story beats to strike a more careful balance between information and entertainment.²

Grade: C+

Mission: SPACE

There are two reasons to do Mission: SPACE. The first reason is to do it for America. Because there are incredibly brave men and women who spend years testing their physical endurance to put their lives at risk so we can learn more about how awesome space is. But the other reason is to do it for Gary Sinise. We’d make him proud. It’s the image of Gary looking wistfully beyond us as a lone heroic trumpet croons in the background that I keep in mind as I try to concentrate on pressing the auxiliary supply button when I’m told to, otherwise our mission could fail. Or maybe the computer will override if I miss my cue, as it did for all of my incompetent crew mates. Or maybe it doesn’t matter because I think this was a training simulation anyway. They sort of changed their mind halfway through on whether this mission is a (fake) fake training exercise or a (fake) real mission to Mars, which would be good to know before we’re frozen in liquid hydrogen for eight months. Whichever it is, the journey is astonishingly lifelike… meaning if life were like an action sequence from Captain Video, complete with a literal cliffhanger ending where you have to hold your breath to not fall off the cliff, because physics works like that. Another way that physics apparently works is that if you look down or to the side during four G’s of linear acceleration force you will instantly become incredibly nauseous, a sensation that one would normally associate with being in a centrifuge. Once we’ve landed I’m pleased to hear I made Gary proud… otherwise there’s no other reason why I’d want to sit in a claustrophobic room that does nothing but simulate the sensation of being sat on while watching a tiny video screen sixteen inches from my face with some inconsequential Quick Time Events thrown in, and it can’t even manage decent capacity.

Grade: D

Test Track

…was closed for its refurbishment into the TRON-influenced Test Track 2.0 at the time of my visit. I had been on the original version back in 2001 and was the only ride that day I loved enough to immediately go around again, so it was simultaneously disappointing but also fortunate that this would be the only major attraction I’d miss due to rehab between all four Disney World parks. I’m uncertain how I feel about the new Test Track from looking at videos since its reopening, since the digitized aesthetic appears to conflict with the nuts-and-bolts mechanics that gave certain scenes from the original ride their purpose, although obviously I’ll have to return to see for myself.

Future World West

Epcot seems to have been designed specifically to mess with my capsule review format. Rather than easily defined individual attractions, Future World West consists of three large pavilions, each of which contains one or two conventional attractions alongside a number of displays or interactive exhibits that tie each pavilion’s organizing theme together. They are “The Seas with Nemo & Friends” (an aquarium with a dark ride), “The Land” (sort of a natural history/ecology museum that also features the ever-popular Soarin’), and “Imagination!” (a children’s discovery museum). Of the three, “The Land” is the most fully realized with some pleasing artistic flourishes free from overt Disneyfication, while “Imagination!” is the most in need of a reimagining, and the extensively cartoonified “The Seas” seems more appropriate to the Magic Kingdom than a discovery park like Epcot. There are plenty of aquariums, natural history museums, and children’s museums across the country that do this sort of thing much better than Disney, albeit without rides.

The Seas with Nemo & Friends

This is where Epcot jumps the shark. It’s the moment of recognition that whatever values Epcot was once founded upon have been so thoroughly compromised by marketing gimmicks in a desperate scramble to retain popularity that a recovery to whatever the ideal once was is now beyond the reach of possibility. The Seas with Nemo & Friends starts with a five minute omnimover dark ride through the film Finding Nemo. The show writers make no attempt to integrate the narrative with the rest of the pavilion’s sea life, it’s merely a chance to mime favorite quotes or scenes from the movie, and during the musical finale they can use the aquariums filled with living fish as backdrops to project holographic singing CGI fish in the foreground, leaving us with no doubts about Disney’s ranking of importance between nature’s creations and their own. The brand awareness continues once we’re back on our feet in the pavilion with the Turtle Talk with Crush digital puppet show, although there are also some aquariums to look at for those who want to. The main aquarium, despite the remarkable size of the tank, is exceedingly perfunctory, filled with a rocky gravel bed, a few non-descript schooling fish and, most thrillingly, a hidden Mickey. A few smaller aquariums in side chambers are much more interesting, filled with things like eels and lionfish, all creatures we’ve probably seen before at any moderate sized public aquarium, but always cool to look at up close nonetheless. While most of the pavilion feels like a forgotten relic of the EPCOT Center with a contemporary overlay designed to move Nemo plush off the shelves at the exit, the manatee room proved to be a refreshing exception. A quiet atmosphere removed of all cartoon references, there was at long last a sense of real urgency in their message about these endangered Floridian creatures, themselves content to gracefully float through the water chewing on their lettuce heads with a complete lack of urgency.

Grade: D+

Living with the Land

This could have very well been called “It’s a Green World”. Like “Small World”, Living with the Land is a (very) slow-moving boat ride past repetitive scenes depicting a utopian ideal for future generations, in this case Sustainable Agriculture instead of World Peace. Doesn’t quite have the same ring, does it? Of course there are major differences as well: instead of an endlessly looping theme song there’s actual on-board narration to describe what we’re looking at and to make the thematic concepts perfectly obvious; and in place of the expressionistic sets, Living with the Land strives for total scientific verisimilitude by replicating a hydroponic greenhouse that we’re led to believe is where real research is being carried out by Disney’s elite team of ghost scientists. This is one of the few “serious” attractions left in Future World, unsullied by cartoon characters, comedians, or flashy visuals to periodically distract us from realizing we might be learning something. However this begs the question of what Living with the Land has to teach? We’re barraged by a series of facts for the nearly fifteen minute ride time, although by the end of the boat journey I had to wonder how these individual facts could be summed into an overarching message. Most of the narration is focused on how science has advanced to the point that we can grow a food surplus efficiently and responsibly anywhere in the world, thanks to the many unspecified “scientists” working for never-named agricultural companies and research labs across the globe. Why do millions of annual visitors need to hear this message in particular when there are so many others that also have important relevance to the land? One interpretation could be that this is a superficial “peek behind the curtains” intended to assuage any doubting consumers that everything you buy on today’s shelves is clean and green, as there are plenty of smart people working for socially responsible corporations that have figured out all the ethical complexities for us… so stop worrying, stop writing to your representative, and keep eating whatever it is Big Agra puts on your table. Sometimes I think Disney is overrated in its abilities to tell a story, but perhaps I now realize that the message is always communicated brilliantly, it’s just not the message I originally thought to look for.

Grade: C-

Soarin’

I should give up. This review mystifies me. People love Soarin’, and I have no clue why. I can perfectly understand and sympathize with why people enjoy Soarin’. It dangles you in front of a huge movie screen and shows a five minute reel of aerial footage around California accompanied a typical heroic orchestral soundtrack. But that doesn’t explain why Soarin’ is seemingly the most loved ride of, not only Epcot, but the entirety of Walt Disney World. While the other rides in Epcot had ten minute waits all day with Fast Passes generally valid between a half hour to an hour after the current time, Soarin’ requires a Fast Pass pick-up first thing in the morning just to secure an afternoon timeslot, and if you’re starting later in the day then you’re shit out of luck unless you feel like joining a two hour stand-by queue. The only other ride in the resort that comes close to this type of crowd pattern is Toy Story Mania at Disney’s Hollywood Studio, interestingly yet another attraction that consists of sitting in front of a video screen, doing what you could already do at home only with much more peripheral immersion. Even granting that it hits the “appropriate for all ages” bull’s-eye while gleefully ditching any semblance of educational value, this sheer amount of popularity can’t be explained. It’s hidden far away in the back corner of the basement floor of The Land pavilion, with the most inconspicuous, off-the-beaten-path entrance imaginable at Epcot. There’s no external visual icon to identify the ride by, as there is for pretty much every other major attraction in the park. It’s not even thematically appropriate for The Land, since they copied the exact same short film from Disney California Adventure, and in Florida there’s almost no justification or even mention for why our flight will take place exclusively around random, sometimes not entirely remarkable west coast locales. Oddly, I don’t recall Soarin’ over California ever being nearly this popular, which is kind of odd given that there it’s one of the park’s centerpiece attractions that establishes the core theme of the entire park. It’s like the odd K-pop song that was nothing notable on its home shores, but the process of exporting it abroad created a surprise viral hit through an unexplained snowball of word-of-mouth. There’s not much I can say or do except go along for the ride… or avoid it entirely, given the posted stand-by wait.

Grade: D+

Journey Into Imagination With Figment

Less than a minute into it I was already racking my brain trying to figure out if this dark ride was a physical theme park example of Poe’s Law or not. Clearly the purple dragon named Figment was a parody of the flamboyant kid’s show personality that’s a little too eager to stuff your face full of happiness. The theme song was obviously manufactured to poke fun at those upbeat, endlessly repeatable tunes that burrow deep inside your brain like a parasitic worm. We’re supposed to be a little annoyed by it all, and these first scenes are just part of a big conceptual comedy skit. Dr. Nigel Channing, the beleaguered straight man character against the cartoon Figment’s overbearing personality, was surely going to break down at the end, do something to interrupt Figment’s hijacking of the show, or at very least direct a subtle nudge-nudge wink-wink to the adults in the audience while their kids remain distracted by the bright colors and lights. He had to, as they clearly cast Eric Idle in the role to appeal to those familiar with his extensive background in satire that goes to the extreme before pulling the rug out from underneath, rather than waste his celebrity on children who think Monty Pythons can be found in the Amazon. This ride can’t be serious about its utter nonsensical ridiculousness. Can it?

Grade: D

World Showcase

The World Showcase has a reputation of being a theme park for adults, probably because of the relative disproportion between children’s entertainment and alcohol consumption for a Disney park. Apparently this implies that the main pleasures to be discovered in adulthood involve eating and drinking, as well as sedentarily looking at cultural objects. From the perspective of a theme park patron, my biggest criticism is that the World Showcase can’t all be enjoyed in a single visit, as the primary way to experience each of the nation’s pavilions is by sitting down at a table and sampling the local cuisine. But even if you’ve got the money to spend and the waistline to expand, it can be hard to stretch this out over more than three or four of the eleven countries. I suspect this makes the World Showcase excellent for annual passholders who visit frequently and are in no rush to “see it all”, as the food and beverage options are considerably more diverse than can be found in a typical retail village and the showcase requires a more relaxed pace to appreciate it in full. However from the perspective of a general cultural observer there might be bigger criticisms about the stereotyping of national identities, the largely Eurocentric selection of pavilions that preferences America’s top trading partners, or the appropriation of symbols of high culture for middle class entertainment. Perhaps the World Showcase isn’t so much a theme park for adults as it is a theme park for the petty bourgeoisie.

Mexico (Gran Fiesta Tour Starring The Three Caballeros)

Although credited as the Three Caballeros, this slow-moving boat ride (Disney has a thing for slow-moving boat rides) is more specifically starring Donald Duck on center stage, with supporting roles by Panchito Pistoles and José Carioca, and Mexico cast as a background bit player. Unsurprisingly this ride (re)opened the same year as The Seas with Nemo and Friends, the other Epcot attraction that feels most distinctly like the brainchild of a particularly dispiriting marketing department meeting. Stylistically the zany, high-energy hi-jinks of the Three Caballeros does not mesh well with the languid pacing of the water canals and atmospheric sets left over from the former El Rio del Tiempo. The rest of the Mexico pavilion is nice to explore as it’s mostly located indoors and perfectly demonstrates Disney’s mastery of controlled environmental spaces. However it is a little weird to walk into a Mayan pyramid during the day, only to find inside another smaller Mayan pyramid under a night sky, like a strange Mexican-Russian stacking doll.

Grade: D+

Norway (Maelstrom)

Norway is the newest expansion of the World Showcase, although it’s still older than I am which should tell you something about the relative importance of the World Showcase to Disney executives in recent decades. Doing my research online, I’m surprised by how many new attractions and pavilions have been seriously proposed over the years, and yet none of these proposals since Norway have ever seen the light of day (e.g. both Germany and Japan had large show buildings built behind their pavilions to house rides-through attractions that thirty years later have yet to be filled). Anyway, Norway is a glimpse of the World Showcase that might have become, containing the area’s first and still only foray into the world of moderately pulse-quickening thrill rides that define Future World with Maelstrom. Trolls and Norse mythology figure heavily into the flume ride’s storyline, along with a backward section and a 28 foot plunge into the North Sea. It could almost be the missing link between Pirates of the Caribbean and Expedition Everest, if only it wasn’t so brief (just over four minutes long) and promises more adventure than it can actually muster. While it’s still probably a favorite of many ride aficionados who visit the World Showcase, I’d like to see how many of those enthusiasts stick around for the six minute post-ride Norwegian promotional film.

Grade: C

China (Reflections on China)

Anyone worried that the World Showcase pavilions might be treated as substitutes for actual world travel can be assured that there is often little similarity between the original nation and its Disneyfied replica in Florida. Case in point: the real China isn’t anywhere near this clean. Cover the sky with a milky film, pack the homes and shops like they’re all owned by pathological hoarders, and throw a couple used condoms on the sidewalks, and that will much more closely approximate an actual visit to China. You know what else? I prefer that version of China. Looking at important landmarks or admiring stereotypical Chinese culture (at least by Westerner’s assumptions of what “Chinese culture” is like) usually makes up only a small percentage of time spent abroad, and it’s in that other larger percentage that the most interesting things are usually discovered, especially if the traveler is receptive to ambiguities that challenge their need to comprehend everything witnessed around them. By itself this isn’t a criticism of Disney, since if treated as a massive, interactive, and spoiler-free travel brochure, the World Showcase does an excellent job at either selling airline tickets or allowing a half hour’s escapist fantasy for those who can’t afford transoceanic travel. Still, I worry that the World Showcase pavilions might manufacture a visitor mindset that becomes too focused on “Culture” while deemphasizing a personal appreciation of culture.

Grade: C-

Germany

I’m not the best person to comment on this pavilion’s verisimilitude to the actual Germany, as I’ve only visited the country once for a couple days, and only to go to German theme parks that featured simulacra of German culture. What I can comment on is that Disney’s portrayal of Deutschland is somewhat more romanticized than the German meta-theme parks I’ve been to, borrowing heavily from internationally recognizable imagery from Grimm folk stories, with several of the façades decorated to evoke a three-dimensional children’s picture book more than anything found in reality. With limiting constraints there will always be a need to selectively interpret the depiction of any nation, it’s just too bad that Epcot selected one that most readily recalls the Magic Kingdom’s own Fantasyland. No krautrock, no deal.

Italy

Primarily a re-creation of Venice, with the Doge’s Palace and St Mark’s Campanile as the main landmarks. It’s fitting, since modern Venice is basically a theme park already: a 100% tourism-based economy with a single entrance point, cultural attractions ranging from A- to E-tickets, and navigable primary by foot with map in hand or occasionally by novelty transport. The menu I checked out in front of the restaurants had a lot of hard Italian that provided limited translation, which I appreciated as a chance to check my reading proficiency after several months since my last practice. Too bad I had already eaten in China, so I’ll have to wait till next time to try to impress the waitress by ordering un bicchiere d’acqua and become the thousandth douche bag tourist to do so.

The American Adventure

The United State’s placement at the center of the world (showcase) is an eyebrow raising bit of political subtext, although I suppose it’s hardly unexpected as Disney had to give the center pavilion position to someone, and they sure as hell weren’t going to inadvertently suggest anything by giving it to China. The American Adventure consists primarily of a single “Independence Hall-ish” looking building that contains an animatronic stage show of the same name, making it the least interesting pavilion for explorers to discover, yet the show is also one of the most essential of the World Showcase. At least, it’s the most elaborate, and stunning if only for its technical complexity. Our hosts for the show are none other than Benjamin Franklin and Mark Twain, who are introduced without a hint of irony; of course who else should they be? The show takes us on a whirlwind summary of American history, organized around a central theme of the spirits and ideals that make America the greatest country in the world… which, by the way, it totally is. It seems that Disney stereotypes no nation better than its own, as the revolutionary American backdrop for a nationalistic civics lesson about the triumphs and compassion of white males is most faithfully reproduced from their own Liberty Square at the Magic Kingdom. There are many spirits that represent Disney’s version of America, but the spirit of diversity of thought is not one of them.

Grade: C

Japan

My vote for the “most realistic” of the World Showcase pavilions, probably in part because Japan is already as clean and efficiently organized as a Disney theme park, and because there’s less reliance on forced perspective design techniques to make the buildings look taller and more magnificent than they actually are. Or it’s just because as a westerner my eyes are less sensitive to inaccuracies than in the European or North American pavilions. Small flourishes of contemporary Japan make an appearance alongside the customary pagodas and shrines (e.g. the crisp angular architecture of a sushi bar, or a modern museum currently housing an exhibit on Japanese manga and anime), a rare exception within the historical mythology focus of the rest of the World Showcase. Then again, this pavilion was built at a time when Japan was a global economic powerhouse and looked poised to lead the world into the 21st century,³ so perhaps these design touches are Epcot’s way to include some forward-looking mythology for the benefit of the U.S.’s (former) closest trading partner.

Morocco

I wonder if all the brown people who work here count as theming? Does that question make me racist? Of course I know that the Moroccan government sponsors this pavilion, and all the employees are Moroccan citizens participating in Disney’s Cultural Representative Program. Apparently many of the mosaic buildings were even designed by native artisans at the behest of Morocco’s king, in order to ensure the most accurate depictions of Islamic art and architecture. But is it necessarily the case that something is no longer considered “themed” if it succeeds every test of authenticity, even if the contextual environment is that of a theme park rather than its home soil? If so, then that would mean that “perfectly realistic theming” is a logical absurdity and all realistically themed environments are either imperfect or else it crosses an invisible threshold and becomes a genuine Moroccan plaza; if not, then theme parks that use “found objects” taken from their home environment can still be considered to be “themed”, and everything in it contributes to the theming. But also if not, then wouldn’t the nationality and genetic makeup of the employees be considered (at least from the perspective of the theme park and its patrons) as a more detailed extension of the costumes that cast members already don to make a themed environment more believable? Isn’t our simulated sense of immersion into a distant place enhanced if the people serving us have different complexions from us and speak with a different accent? Perhaps we should just find a new nomenclature that avoids the word “theming” altogether, and the can of worms it can potentially open up.

France (Impressions de France)

This is some high quality culture porn. And I’m not calling it that only to make a joke. This eighteen minute five-panel widescreen film is quite literally pornographic. The content is obviously quite different from traditional pornography (although the World Showcase is aimed for “adults”, Epcot is still a family theme park, after all), but the aesthetic form and purpose of Impressions de France shares much in common. It’s the fetishization of an idealized image for instant gratification; only instead of sexual gratification it’s cultural gratification. You sit down as an anonymous spectator in a dark room, where celluloid images are projected on a screen to simulate various objects or activities of desire, even though we can’t personally participate with these images beyond the boundaries of our voyeuristic imaginations, and however unrealistic the possibility of living out these images might be. We want to have the version of France we see on the screen. This function is why I think pornography is the closest cinematic comparison, since as a documentary there’s little of informational value, and as an impressionistic art film “Impressions” skimps on artistic innovation in favor of overly aestheticized montages accompanied by a popular selection of French classical music and occasional voiceovers by Pepé Le Pew. The biggest formal distinction between porn and “Impressions” I could find is that the typical angle of the “money shot” replaces the extreme close-up with wide aerial panoramas of French landscapes and landmarks, although the close-up angle makes some appearances as well, notably in the early money shots of pastries.⁴ At the end of the show we rise and exit from the dark privacy of our seats, everyone’s appetites for French travel and lifestyle momentarily satiated, but a few of us also sharing a bit of dirty guilt for having gotten off on a theme park simulation, rather than putting in the extra effort to get the real thing.

Grade: D+

United Kingdom

Probably the most drab and boring of the World Showcase pavilions, although I suppose that makes it a perfect representation of the U.K. Perhaps part of it could be a matter of sequence. The U.K. was already going to have difficulty following any act put before it, but if you go clockwise around the World Showcase lagoon like I did that means you’ll start fresh with the fiery allure of Mexico and then go troll hunting down waterfalls in Norway, but must finish here with sore feet and the jaded eyes of a make-believe globe hopper. Go counter-clockwise, and the brick walls and thatched roofs might somehow appear exotically exciting, as the only other nation that has a chance to upstage England’s green and pleasant lands in your world tour so far would have been Canada. Speaking of which…

Canada (O Canada!)

A tribute to Martin Short starring Canada, and I’ll have to spend fifteen minutes of my life just waiting for the next show to start? Uhh… sorry, no thanks. I know there’s the critic’s duty to see everything with impartial eyes before making a judgment, but this is asking too much from me. I’ll just look at the pretty Canadian Rocky Mountain landscaping for a few minutes and try to resist making a Canada joke.

IllumiNations: Reflections of Earth

Nighttime spectaculars are the perfect opportunity for Disney to show off what it does best: making us wait nearly an hour for several minutes of high-concept entertainment with perhaps some overreaching grandiosity. Usually these types of shows allow for a bit more theatrical abstraction than you can normally find at a theme park, and IllumiNations has a decade long reputation of considerable prestige in one of the best locations to hold a nightly show on U.S. Disney property, so I was expecting a spectacular that would be pretty spectacular. Things start off good with some big explosions perfectly timed to thumpin’ percussion, supposedly representing the creation of earth from the primordial cosmic soup. The second act slows things down when they float out an LED globe over the water that shows various images and clips that seem mined from a stock footage repository to give a generic “international harmony” impression, and is honestly a pretty dull segment. I’m sure there are some statistics that can make the globe seem impressive, but stuck way out in the middle of the expansive World Showcase Lagoon it’s just too small to even see many of the images displayed on the sides, let alone to make it the solitary focus of the show for the long middle portion. The fireworks make a comeback for the big grand finale (it’s a general rule that the dramatic structure of a nighttime spectacular show must resemble a night of love making with an orgasmic climax), but by that point I’ve already mentally checked out of the show and am making plans for how to fight through the crowds back to the parking lot.

Grade: C

Summary

After thirty years Epcot still has a unique presence in the world of theme parks as an innovative original, even if much of what it originally innovated turned out to be interesting failures rather than the zeitgeist-changing experimental destination it once sought out to become.

Overall Grade: C

Next: Disney’s Hollywood Studios

Previous: The Magic Kingdom

Epcot Photo Journal