The Twilight Zone: Where Dreams Come True! (A Land of Shadow and Substance Watches the Twilight Zone S1E4 "16 Millimeter Shrine" and S1E5 "Walking Distance")

So, it turns out that "Dreams come true!" and an emphasis on "Wishes!" aren't just slogans that appear endlessly in Disney parks advertising and shows.  They're also a big, canonical part of the Twilight Zone!  Seriously!

 This pair of episodes ("The Sixteen Millimeter Shrine" and "Walking Distance"), but especially "The Sixteen Millimeter Shrine", have such weirdly direct takes on those concepts that they almost seem to be weirdly not-quite-parodying Disney advertising's uses of the phrases and their implications... all the way back in 1959, long before they probably got overused.  Although, Disney has always laid the schmaltzy sentimentality on thick, so perhaps it already was starting to wear thin after only 4 years of the park being open.

That's not the only Disney thing about "Sixteen Millimeter Shrine" either.  Tower of Terror seems to have taken the aesthetic, era, and even some of the events in this episode!  As far as I can tell, none of the Towers had official Easter Eggs from "The Sixteen Millimeter Shrine", but there's so many similarities that I think it was a definitive influence on the designers.

The plot goes thus: Barbara is a former movie star who obsessively wishes to return to her glory days in the 1930s.  She spends most of her time binge-watching all her old films in her private study, which looks a lot like Tower's libraries.  Her house is a grand gothic mansion, lavishly decorated with carved doors and flower arrangements reminiscent of the 30s and shown to be in sharp contrast with the sleek "present day" (i.e. 1950s) studio offices she visits.  Her housekeeper and friend/agent desperately try to get Barbara to move on from the past, but she refuses.  Finally, one day they discover her missing from her closed-off study, only to look in horror at the still-running movie screen to see it now projecting the mansion they're in--but now with Barbara as her ideal movie self, surrounded by her old characters and friends, happily running off into movie land after waving them goodbye with a scarf.  When they leave the study, her scarf is still where she dropped it on the ground in the supernatural film.

The final narration is a real kicker:

"To the wishes that come true, to the strange, mystic strength of the human animal, who can take a wishful dream and give it a dimension of its own.  To Barbara Jean Trenton, movie queen of another era, who has changed the blank tomb of an empty projection screen into a private world.  It can happen... in the Twilight Zone."

That could damn well near run in front of a Disney fireworks show.

Admit it, you heard this in your head too.

Admittedly, as I watched this episode, the message seemed really muddled.  For most of its runtime, it seems like the moral is going to be about having to move on from the past--but then Barbara gets her wish to re-live her glory days, and it's presented as a mostly happy ending.  Her friend and her housekeeper will probably miss her (and have a lot of explaining to do about her disappearance), but there's not really shown any reason she shouldn't take the opportunity to go to her dream world permanently.  "Mixed message" is putting it mildly, especially given that this episode is followed by, and definitely contradicted by, "Walking Distance".  I'll get to that episode in a second.

Like I mentioned earlier, I think Tower of Terror got a lot of ideas from this episode.  The idealized (or at least glamorous) era is the 1930s, and Barbara's house basically makes it look like she's living in Tower of Terror's lobby.  Furthermore, the guests end up supernaturally inside a television episode, much like Barbara ends up in her old films.  The common interpretation of one of the Tower ghosts as a movie star might also owe a bit to this episode, but that's more of a reach.  I'd actually seen this episode before, back in 2002, but never noticed all the similarities until now.

It also feels really fitting that an almost cloyingly "Disney" episode (what with all that talk about wishes) would lend so much to the literally Disney ride.

Now, as for "Walking Distance"...

I really wasn't excited about rewatching this one.  Not only had I seen it before, but I feel like it's one of the most heavy-handed, over-hyped, over-discussed Twilight Zone episodes of all time.  I honestly considered either skipping it, or not blogging about it.  However, it formed such a shocking contrast with the previous episode, and also might have inspired a scene in Tower of Terror, so I had to still mention it.

In this story, Martin is an advertising executive disgruntled with his life.  Upon taking a drive in the country, he stops to have his car serviced, only to find that the service station is walking distance from his childhood hometown, which he fondly remembers, especially in contrast to his current hectic life.  When he walks there, however, he finds himself literally back in his childhood past.  The episode then proceeds to VERY heavy-handedly hammer home how Martin no longer fits in and cannot stay in the past.  Eventually, Martin's father explains to him that he can't stay in the past, but perhaps he should reevaluate the present and learn to find joys in his own time.

The end narration is:

"Martin Sloan, age 36, vice president in charge of media.  Successful in most things, but not in the one effort that all men try at some time in their lives: trying to go home again.  And also, like all men perhaps, there'll be an occasion, maybe a summer night sometime, when he'll look up from what he's doing and listen to the distant music of a calliope and hear the voices and the laughter of the people and places of his past.  And perhaps, across his mind there'll be flit a little errant wish that a man might not have to become old, never outgrow the parks and merry go rounds of his youth, and he'll smile then, too, because he'll know it is just an errant wish, some wisp of memory not too important really, some laughing ghosts that cross a man's mind that are a part of... The Twilight Zone."

Huh, there's those wishes again.  Also, I can't help but think about how Main Street USA was Walt Disney doing his best to bring nostalgic memories of his childhood into physical form, and how in many ways Disney Parks are where anyone can to an extent indulge their childhood memories.  The fact that a Twilight Zone attraction ended up in such a park feels either ironic or incredibly appropriate--maybe both.

The most extreme awkwardness of this episode, though (besides how eye-rollingly heavy handed it is about its message), is that it's directly in contrast with the seeming message of the previous one.  Barbara getting to live in the past is a happy ending, but Martin instead needs to find joy in the present.  Perhaps these are two halves of the same coin... Martin's story shows why Barbara's wish might be the wrong choice.  Or, you know, it's just inconsistent writing.

As for the Tower of Terror connection, I believe the mirror scene from DCA/Paris was inspired by a shot from this episode.  When Martin walks away from the gas station (and into the Twilight Zone), it is shown as a reflection in the mirror.  Likewise, the second generation of Towers used the mirror as the transition into the Twilight Zone.

My takeaway so far has been that a lot of Season 1 ended up in Tower of Terror, despite the pre-show using the season 4-5 opening theme.  I wonder why...

You have just... exited the Twilight Zone? Interpretations of the Ending Sequence of Tower of Terror (and also A Land of Shadow and Substance Watches the Twilight Zone S1E2 and S1E3)

When discussing the Tower of Terror, the story's framing device as a "lost Twilight Zone episode" is one of the more difficult-to-wrangle aspects of the ride and its design.  To start with, there's the issue of how "properly" Twilight Zone the plotline even is, which I wrote an entire post about (I highly recommend you read that post before this one).  Furthermore, here's also the question of what exactly the contents of the episode are, including the outcome of its plot.  For the majority of my time writing for this blog, I already had one rather credible, but also unfortunately dark interpretation.

Namely, that the characters that we (the guests) represent are dead at the end.

Or, at least, some of them.

"A warm welcome back, to those of you who made it, and a friendly word of warning, something you won't find in any guidebook: the next time you check into a deserted hotel on the dark side of Hollywood, make sure you know just what kind of vacancy you're filling, or you may find yourself a permanent resident... of the Twilight Zone"--Florida's ending sequence (emphasis mine).  

(Note that DCA's ending omitted everything before the line starting with "the next time you check into a deserted hotel...")

If one subscribes to the "karmic justice" interpretation of the Twilight Zone, then it makes sense that at least some of "us" are dead, as the punishment for trespassing on the site of a tragedy and taking unwise dares.  It's possible, especially in the shortened DCA finale, that Rod Serling's lines are being delivered to an unseen television audience, presumably over shots of the crashed elevator that contains "our" corpses.

Not only would this interpretation be part of the "karmic justice" story, but it would fit with the general popular perception of the Twilight Zone as a creepy and dark dimension.

However, the last two episodes I watched (S1E2 "One For the Angels" and S1E3 "Mr. Denton on Doomsday") both notably paint the Twilight Zone as a place of significant optimism and mercy, albeit in perhaps-unexpected ways.

In "One for the Angels", a salesman encounters Death (who is surprisingly friendly, if frustratingly bureaucratic) on his intended death day.  He negotiates for more time by insisting he not die before he gets to make one great sales pitch, with the intention of just never making another pitch again in order to escape the deal.  When Death insists on taking another person's life instead to balance the celestial scale, the protagonist instead makes his great pitch to save a neighborhood child's life.  Hilariously, the pitch is not some great argument for the life itself, but instead distracting the personification of Death with sales speeches for ties, souvenirs, and toiletries!  In the end, the protagonist fulfills his bargain, and is informed that he's made it to heaven, peacefully walking off with Death at the end.  It's a solidly happy ending, with the protagonist having fulfilled his life's goals, saving a child's life, and being welcomed into a pleasant afterlife.

This isn't the only episode I remember where Death is a surprisingly nonthreatening person.  In fact, I'd consider "Death is a surprisingly chill dude" to potentially be a theme in the series!  It's a rather optimistic theme, too.

"Mr. Denton on Doomsday" (an episode I'd never seen before, incidentally) is a western.  A straight-up western, about a gunslinger-turned-alcoholic, in a series usually marketed as science fiction or horror.  In truth, The Twilight Zone really can't be categorized as any one genre...but that's beside the point for this post.

Anyways, Mr. Denton was the fastest gun in the West, until he took to drinking to forget the horror of having killed so many people who challenged him to duels.  A possibly-supernatural traveling elixir salesman intervenes in his fate, first by giving him his gun back to get him to stop drinking, and then by giving both Denton and the latest challenger a maybe-magic-maybe-mundane elixir that's supposed to make them both better shots, but instead makes them mutually disarm each other.  However, both their hands are irreparably injured, so neither will be able to duel again.  Denton is free to live his life clean and without the pressure to kill people, as is his challenger.  Once again, a happy ending, with the supernatural providing mercy and giving everyone a better fate than before.

So, anyways, back to Tower's finale.  Sure, the supernatural definitely punished "us" for trespassing, but maybe it didn't punish us as severely as I initially assumed.  Perhaps it shook us up a bit (quite literally), but then let us go, hopefully as better people for the lesson.  We might literally just get to... exit the Twilight Zone.  Maybe, despite what that "for those of you who made it" might imply, just for once...

A Land of Shadow and Substance watches The Twilight Zone: S1E1 “Where is Everybody?”

Like everyone else in California, I’ve found myself stuck at home as part of the COVID-19 quarantine measures.  Due to the need to stave off a horrific combination of boredom and overwhelming anxiety over the current state of the world, I decided to watch The Twilight Zone.  After all, perhaps surprisingly, I’ve actually never seen the entire series before.  And why not now, when we’re all living in a crappy episode anyways?

Since I’m watching the series, I thought I’d give a writeup of episodes I watch, as a sort of not-quite-liveblogging thing.  I might not go in order, or write for every episode.  I actually hope that I won’t get through writing about every episode, since that would mean quarantine has lasted THAT long.

For both convenience and thematic reasons, I started with Season 1, Episode 1.  Convenience, since it’s the very first episode, and thematic because it’s about the effects of isolation.  You know, that thing we’re all going through right now.  I’ve actually seen this episode before; it was the very first episode I watched when I borrowed the DVD set from the library back in 2002, when Tower of Terror spurred me to look up the original series.  So I knew the plot and the twist, but hadn’t seen it since then, and wanted to refresh my memory.

Official summary, according to Hulu: “A man finds himself in a town devoid of people and with no memory of who he is.”

Original airdate: October 2, 1959 (Hey, the permit number for the Hollywood Tower’s elevator!)

The episode begins with the haunting season 1 theme tune.  While less iconic than the later “do dee do dooo” theme song I mostly associate with the series, I can’t help but love the original theme.  It’s so dreamlike, it really matches the original opening narration describing the Twilight Zone thusly:

“There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man.  It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity.  It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge.  This is the dimension of imagination.  It is an area we call the Twilight Zone.”

Much like the music that accompanies it, this narration is less iconic than later opening narrations (such as the one that provided my blog title), but incredibly beautiful and poetic.

Also, I can’t help but have a soft spot for this music, since it served as the basis for DCA Tower’s exit corridor music.

Speaking of theme parks, given how accidentally connected the Twilight Zone became to general parks lore via SEA, I can’t help but chuckle at “dimension of imagination.”  Welcome to the Twilight Zone, Figment! (He is imprisoned in Mission Breakout, for what it’s worth.)

The opening narration specific to this episode gave me chills:

“The place is here, the time is now, and the journey into the shadows that we’re about to watch could be our journey.”

Well, Rod Serling-in-1959, given that this is a story about isolation and in 2020 everyone’s being required to be isolated, unfortunately this IS our journey.  Yay.

On another note, I’m fairly positive that “the time is now” was either spliced in to Tower’s pre-show narration, or the direction for the voice actor recording the narration was to match the exact cadence of the way the phrase was said here.  It sounds identical, either way, to the point that I did a double take upon hearing it in this episode.

In general, this is a great exercise in minimalist suspense and horror.  The majority of it is just one guy running around a mysteriously empty town, freaking out more and more in the process.  It does a lot with very little; a lot of the horror is accomplished by simple things like lights turning on and off, or some clothes fluttering on a mannequin in the background.  Camera angles and the soundtrack also cover a lot of ground in establishing the tense atmosphere.  Everything feels fresh and engaging, to the point where it’s surprising when obvious reminders of the episode’s age show up.  It all feels current until $2.88 is brought up as a significant amount of money, or the protagonist expects to talk to a human phone operator instead of a robotic one.  One obviously flimsy door the protagonists rushes through near the end is also unintentionally humorous.

Story wise, the majority of this episode reminds me of I Am Legend, but without the zombie vampires and with a very different ending reveal.  Interestingly, the original book I Am Legend was published by Richard Matheson in 1954.  While Matheson would become one of the most famous writers for The Twilight Zone, he didn’t write this episode; it’s credited to Rod Serling.  The emphasis on dreams, dreaming, and waking up also called Inception to mind.

Another thing that looks familiar—for good reason—is the town our unfortunate protagonist is trapped in!  Universal Studios Hollywood fans will recognize that as the Courthouse Square, used in many movies and shows throughout the years, but most famously associated with Back to the Future.  This is one of the few episodes not filmed on the MGM studios lot.  The “Battle Hymn” on the movie theater marquee is the title of a Universal Studios movie.

Of course, the ending reveal is that the protagonist is not in fact stuck in an abandoned town, but instead has begun hallucinating after over 2 weeks in isolation as part of a military experiment to see if man can make it to the moon (yet another sudden reminder of the episode’s age!).  The official overseeing the test asserts that, despite all the entertainment they can provide, any person will start to crack if they’re denied contact with others for too long.  Still, our protagonist remains determined to actually complete that moon trip.

The closing narration is thus:

“Up there in the vastness of space, in the void that is sky, up there is an enemy known as isolation.  It sits there in the stars waiting, waiting with the patience of eons, forever waiting… in the Twilight Zone.”

Ah, so isolation is the enemy.  Great…that’s just great to hear right now.  Uh, welcome to the Twilight Zone everybody!

Yeah, this episode hit closer to home than I expected, even though I remembered the subject matter and plot.  Honestly, part of my concern with the current world situation is what the state of the survivors will be when the pandemic eventually abates.  What kind of world will it be if all of us have gone stir crazy in the meantime?

Here’s hoping video chat and cell phones can fulfill that “human interaction” thing.

One last fun fact for the road: This episode had an Easter Egg in the DCA Tower that I believe went undiscovered until after DCA Tower was dismantled!  On the bulletin board in the boiler room was an advertisement for casting a play titled “Where is Everybody?”.  I discovered this when I viewed the board at the Van Eaton Gallery.  I’ve actually never seen anyone else mention this Easter Egg, so I take pride that I might have been the first to discover it!

The DisneySea Tower of Terror: Part 1 Intro, Surrounding Area, and Fastpass Stand

This, as you may recognize, is a Disney Tower of Terror attraction.

However, it is not a Twilight Zone Tower of Terror attraction.  Well, at least unless you dive deep into the increasingly intricate lore connecting Disney's parks, at which point a distressing amount of attractions actually take place in the Twilight Zone.

The Tokyo DisneySea version of the Tower of Terror seems to be somewhat famous now for having a different story than the other incarnations.  Therefore, I figured, it probably served the purposes of this project best to start by introducing the story and lore of this version before getting to the actual walkthrough.

That, it turned out, was a really bad idea.

The DisneySea Tower of Terror (Tokyo Tower for short, despite the fact that that's the name for a completely different Tokyo landmark) is one of the cornerstone attractions for Disney's ongoing Society of Adventurers and Explorers (SEA) timeline.  And, now spanning all of Disney's parks around the globe, SEA has a lot to explain.  Maybe too much to explain.  An overwhelming amount to explain that caused me to procrastinate on writing this for nearly a year.  It doesn't help that, given SEA and this attraction's location in the Tokyo parks, a lot of promotional material is in Japanese, and I had to rely on translations and summaries of varying quality.  So, as a disclaimer at the start here, I'll state that I tried to focus just on the story affecting this attraction (for my sanity's sake), did my best to find reliable-seeming translations, and I'll direct you to this Laffite's Landing article for a summary of the larger SEA lore instead of trying to explain it myself.

Also, like with previous walkthroughs, everything will be written in past tense for consistency purposes, despite this version not only still operating, but being the version LEAST likely to ever shut down.

Information will be as accurate as possible to April 2019.

And now, on to the walkthrough:

The official attraction poster, on a ticket booth outside DisneySea

DisneySea's Tower of Terror was located in the American Waterfront section of the park on [insert street names here].  The American Waterfront represented the hustle and bustle of early 1900s New York: a thriving, rapidly growing urban area with a busy port, elevated streetcars, and the glitter of the theaters.  However, just beyond the idyllic Waterfront Park, there loomed an imposing reminder that not everything was well in this land--the abandoned Hotel Hightower.  After a fateful New Year's party to celebrate acquiring yet another stolen artifact, its owner met a terrible fate in an elevator crash, and the building was spared by the New York Preservation Society, which now runs tours of the structure.

View of American Waterfront from across DisneySea's central lake

Built by Harrison Hightower as a testament to his own ego, and as a place to house his massive collection of stolen artifacts, it dominated the American Waterfront skyline.  Its architectural style was best described as "eclectic", and featured a lot of "exotic" details such as middle-eastern style arches.  Hightower didn't just steal artifacts, he stole architectural styles!

Overall view of the exterior, showing the building shape.

A closer-up overall view.

The very Moroccan-inspired gift shop exterior, on the right side of the building, with a bit of the fastpass stand on the right side of the image.

In front of the Tower stood Waterfront Park, an idyllic spot with benches under pavilions with words like "Art", "Dance", and "Theater" engraved on them.  It looked like there was usually fountains in the center of the park, but since I visited at Easter time there was a large, garish, theme-breaking Easter Bunny/Chickens display filling the space instead.  I did my best to crop that out of my photo.  Anyways, I found it notable that the primary front-facing approach to the looming Tower went through an idyllic park with inscriptions celebrating humanity's positive creative endeavors, while the Hotel Hightower was a testament to plunder and ego.

View from Waterfront Park

In front of the ride was a warning sign, written in three languages: Japanese, English, and what I believe is Chinese (please correct me if I am wrong).

Warning sign

Canonically, this was the oldest hotel in the Tower of Terror universe.  Having been constructed in the 1800s (it was dedicated in 1889, as per an inscription on a brick near the fastpass entrance), it featured details such as having "hansom cabs only" painted on the curb in front of the entrance and having the fastpass stand be horse stables or a carriage house.  Florida Tower's signage indicates that it also had horse stables at some point as well, but Tokyo's prominent display of the actual stables, in a location convenient for theoretical hotel guests, really drove home the point that we're in an era where horses are still the primary transportation.

The dedication plaque, inscribed one one side of the fastpass entrance arch.

Painted curb in front of the hotel entrance.  Hansom cabs are horse-drawn taxis, in case anyone was wondering.

Sign on the fence outside of the fastpass courtyard indicating that this is a carriage entrance

Fastpass stand/stables exterior

Overall view of the fastpass stand interior

Fastpass distribution machine

Fastpass stand rear wall, with a cast member.  This wall is behind you as you face the ticket machines.

Those rectangular plaques on the rear wall of the fastpass stand confirmed the structure's former use as a stable/coach house.  They read "Coachmen must be responsible for their carriages at all times", and had the hotel's name and logo at the top.

That "HH" logo (Hotel Hightower, of course; no need for it to be "HTH" here) also appeared on emblems on the columns of the fastpass stand.

HH logo plaque on one of the columns of the fastpass stand

Tokyo Disneyland and DisneySea still used the original paper-based Fastpass system.  The tickets had blue monochrome artwork at the top (much like DCA Tower, albeit a less saturated blue),  displaying the "Tower of Terror" logo with an illustration of Shiriki Utundu's head and lightning emanating from the top of the Tower.

A "not a fastpass" ticket I got specifically so that I'd have an example of the art.  I don't have examples of actual tickets because I, well, used them.  Apologies for the photo quality; there were technical difficulties with my scanner, so a phone pic had to suffice.

There was one more noteworthy feature of this fastpass courtyard, besides the gift shop entrance/exit.  Across from the fastpass stand was a wall with stained glass doors, and an alternate set of entrance/emergency exit doors.  This was the exterior of one of the lobby walls, with the alternate entrance/emergency exit doors being used for what appeared to be the child switch pass system.  As a result, a copy of the ride's warning sign was posted to the left of them.  Interestingly, guests using that door would find themselves walking through one of the lobby show scenes, which I'll elaborate more about when discussing the actual lobby.

The wall with the stained glass door and alternate entrance/emergency exit

Cast member exiting the side door, plus a look at some of the further architectural details

On the stained glass doors was a sign reading:

CLOSED

By order of the city of New York 

Department of Building Safety

NO ADMITTANCE

Asmuth Sign Company, Delancy Street

The "Closed" sign.  I assume the Asmuth Sign Company and/or Delancy Street is a reference to SEA lore, given how absolutely lore-dense this attraction is, but cannot confirm that assumption.

The fastpass courtyard was also on the fastpass entrance side of the main entryway.

Archway/side view of the fastpass entrance from the fastpass courtyard

Detail of gryphon carving and HH logo in the arch

Overall view of the fastpass entrance, with a convenient clock.  The actual entry arch is that small one on the right; the larger central one was for standby.  Furthermore, the two CMs (in black dresses) are flanking the date plaque.

Detail of the clock, showing the HH logo in place of the 12

You might have noticed that this building shared its main shape with the Paris and California versions of the Tower.  However, you may also have something odd about the placement of the gift shop relative to the main building.  Whereas Paris and California had the gift shop and exit to the left of the main building, Tokyo placed it on the opposite side, with an extended standby queue garden going along the left side.

The central entrance had a marquee reading "Hotel Hightower", with the address of One Park Avenue.  Periodically, this sign would light up with hidden green lights spelling "Tower of Terror".

The overall front entrance with the marquee in unlit mode.  Note how standby enters under the marquee but fastpass enters through the right arch.

Front entrance with the marquee lit with "Tower of Terror"

Along the standby queue enclosure along the building on the left (before the gardens), there were signs advertising tours of the hotel by the New York Preservation Society.  In addition to hyping the tour as a celebration of the legacy of Harrison Hightower, these signs also established "Tower of Terror" as being an in-universe nickname for the building.  The side of these signs facing the queue had displays full of lore, but I'll cover that when I cover the standby queue.

Click to enlarge the photo if you want to read the individual signs!

The gate enclosing the standby queue gardens also had another "Closed: No Admittance" sign, same as the one found in the fastpass courtyard.

Garden fencing and gates.  Note the HH logo plaques on the columns.

The Tower had two different types of unique trashcan designs; the New York Preservation Society designs dotted the exterior and surrounding areas, while Hotel Hightower ones were within the bounds of the attraction itself.

New York Preservation Society trash and recycle cans

At night, the exterior lit up a dramatic saturated blue, thus following the Tower of Terror tradition of using blue to signify the supernatural.

However, this was not the most prominent lighting effect present on the exterior.  One of the most dramatic aspects of this version was how animated the exterior was at all times of the day.  With the exception of the name-changing marquee that shared an effect found at other Towers, the rest of the exterior animation was unique to Tokyo.  When any of the ride vehicles reached the top and the doors opened for that dramatic exterior view, green lightning crackled from the top penthouse window to the appropriate drop shaft, timed perfectly so that the car dropped when "struck" by the electricity.  The appropriate sound effects also accompanied this effect, and it was done at all times of the day, not just at night as one might expect.

Note that, given the difficulty of capturing such a fast sequence on photo, I had to use pictures from different "lightning strikes" to show each stage of the effect, hence the inconsistency of which shaft is lighting up.

The Tower at night, from across the lake

Lightning emanates from the cursed penthouse

Lightning from the penthouse strikes a drop shaft

Another unique aspect of Tokyo Tower was just how much lore got dropped on you before you could even get in the queue.  Without even getting into the finer details of the larger SEA lore and how it tied into details of American Waterfront, there's a whole newspaper display about Harrison Hightower and his hotel, placed near the fastpass entrance.

DEFINITELY click to enlarge and read!

Every clipping in that display is readable and lore-relevant.  And that display was the abridged version!  This display case was for the benefit of fastpass riders, or for times when the standby queue was too short to pass the full lore display (on the back of the three signs advertising tours) in the standby queue.

This is in stark contrast to the Twilight Zone versions.  Those three all let the atmosphere alone do the talking; there's lots of very detailed spooky hotel stuff going on, telling the story of glamorous resorts suddenly abandoned after a disaster.  However, none of them started off by introducing specific names or events; that didn't even begin to be revealed until the pre-show.  Even then, throughout the ride, the Twilight Zone Towers remained coy about specific details (you had to watch the dubiously canon TV movie to even know the ghosts' names); everything started as an enigma and ended only slightly less so, and that was a deliberate part of the spookiness.

Instead, Tokyo starts off your experience with a ton of specific detail, which is just a small part of the downright overwhelming SEA lore.  Throughout the ride guests know exactly what is happening to them, why, and by whom.

Neither approach to lore is necessarily better than the other (as I'll attempt to convey in the rest of this series, Tokyo certainly doesn't skimp on atmospheric detail), but they are incredibly opposite each other.

Faced with that wall of information about whose hotel this was and why us guests are supposed to be there, let's get in the queue!

The OTHER DisneySea

So, if you've been in the Disney fandom for even a short while, you've probably heard of DisneySea.  The second park built at the Tokyo Disneyland Resort, it's renowned for its elaborate themeing and high quality attractions, with some even considering it one of the best Disney parks in existence.

What seems less commonly known, however, was that DisneySea was originally intended for California.  Specifically, it was going to be built at the Port of Long Beach, integrated with a port for the Disney Cruise Line.  A lot of what ended up being built in Tokyo-- such as the giant volcano with a Jules Verne E-ticket, and a harbor with a large passenger-liner type ship--was already planned out and ready to be built in Long Beach.

As it turns out, my friend's parents actually worked on this DisneySea project, doing concept artwork.  Unfortunately, no known copies of their art have been released to the public online, and they had to give all of their copies to Disney as part of the project (The last they heard, their oil painting of a cruise ship in front of Long Beach and DisneySea was in the gallery above Pirates of the Caribbean... which is now gone).  Still, they kept a Preliminary Master Plan executive report, dated July 1990, and graciously let me read it and scan it, along with some of their sketches and their copy of the public press announcement.

The front cover

Maybe this is all old news, but it was fun to dive through all this information, despite a lot of it being rather mundane discussions of water usage plans, public infrastructure concerns, and the like. I figured I'd share some of the meatier, more parks-oriented bits I found.  It's a dive into the origins of both one of the most acclaimed Disney parks, and one of the most notorious ones.

[Note: In case you're wondering, my sources say they didn't have to sign any NDAs regarding this, and even if they did, this is a long-dead, long-cancelled project Disney likely doesn't care about.  Plus, most of the Preliminary Master Plan was published to the public as part of the press announcement of the park.]

Alright, starting off: that date.  July 1990.  That's the month when the project was officially announced to the public, to mixed response.  As Anaheim would probably tell you, Disney has a BIG impact on a city, for better or worse.  It's telling that Disney World essentially made its own government (the Reedy Creek Improvement District) to avoid working with another authority.  Disputes between Disney and Long Beach were what eventually killed Long Beach's DisneySea.

The first section is the Executive Summary.  It names the entire resort as Port Disney, and it was set to include not just the DisneySea theme park, but also five hotels, a shopping district, new marina slips, and a port for the Disney Cruise Line.  The inclusion of the shopping district predicts the addition of both Downtown Disney in Anaheim/Florida and the construction of Ikspiari at Tokyo Disney Resort.  In fact, the setup of a second resort, hotels, and a shopping mall seems to have been directly ported (heh) to Tokyo in 2000-2001.


Up next is an aerial site map of the proposed new construction, which would have been reclaimed from the bay--same as Tokyo DisneySea's construction.

After that is a photo of a 3D render of the new park.  Doesn't that volcano seem familiar?  We'll get there in a minute.

Last in this section is this pretty painting of fireworks above the park.  I haven't seen this circulated widely; it's always nice to see some "new" concept art.

The next tab, Port Disney Description, is where fun begins.

Let's start off with a section entitled "Overall Development Concept."  This was the era in which Disney really started to push towards being all-inclusive resorts that tried to keep guests on-property, but notably this section went out of its way to mention a "need to link Port Disney to other Southern California amenities", integrating the resort with the town of Long Beach (to "continue Long Beach's recent efforts towards revitalization"), and suggesting access to water shuttles to places like Catalina Island.  These passages seem an attempt at placating Long Beach's concerns about the resort, and it's an odd feeling reading them while knowing that the city and Disney eventually failed to compromise.

This section also mentions "project unity", which it defines as "All elements of Port Disney...should be experienced by the guests as one interconnected project.  Therefore, uniformity of landscape, signage, lighting, and other means of developing a consistent image are highly desirable."  That certainly does describe the eventual Tokyo DisneySea, and as a fan of well-themed design I certainly enjoyed seeing that line officially in print.  However, it also stings due to the fact that Port Disney's cancellation eventually led to the notorious uncoordinatedly-themed California Adventure.

Speaking of California Adventure's rocky start, this section also says that "retail should be the connective element" in the plan of the overall resort.  I couldn't help but draw a parallel to the complaint that early DCA had too few attractions and too much retail/dining.

Up next is another layout of the site plan.  There's not much I can really comment on, but I do find it interesting that the vaguely triangular shape of DisneySea has similarities to the eventual shape of the Tokyo version.

After that is another concept art, showing the view from the entry drive, looking southeast.  Notable in the background, through the palm trees, is a cruise ship next to a spherical building (which would have been the park's icon, like Epcot) and the Journey to the Center of the Earth volcano.

The next section, entitled "DisneySea", is perhaps the single most exciting page in the whole document.  I'll tackle it paragraph by paragraph.

"The centerpiece of the proposed master plan is a new ocean-oriented theme park concept, tentatively called "DisneySea", that combines a wide variety of Disney-style rides, shows, and attractions with activities directed towards developing a better understanding of the sea.  Disney's Imagineers have focused their efforts on exploring the myths, romance, challenges and mysteries of the ocean--the world's last great frontier.  Both fun and educational, DisneySea would break down barriers between our guests and the sea. 

While the theme park is currently in the early stages of development, some of the concepts under consideration are briefly described below."

Obviously, the theme park eventually would end up being named DisneySea.  What's unique here is the emphasis on education.  It seems, at this time, loftier educational goals (as seen in early Epcot) were still on Disney's mind.  It's also notable that Port Disney would have been near the Long Beach Aquarium, possibly fueling this educational feel.

"Oceana, the architectural focal point for the park, would rise up from the center of DisneySea in a series of futuristic bubbles, luring guests to a fascinating evolutionary journey through the world's seas.  Guests would walk through a state-of-the-art, two-story aquarium.  The curious would journey into the 21st century, visiting a working Future Research Center where scientists from the world's leading institutions would come together to conduct oceanographic studies, in much the same fashion as researchers now gather at the Living Seas and Land Pavilions at Epcot Center in Walt Disney World.  Adults and children alike would learn about the ocean and its diverse marine life in a hands-on exploratorium."

Well, there's our answer to the round building next to the cruise ship earlier!  The Epcot influence is directly stated here, with the focus on education and the futuristic architecture making this sound like an ocean-focused west-coast Epcot, or if the Living Seas became a park.  What I find both humorous and tragically short-sighted is this emphasis on the future and journeying into the 21st century when this was already being announced in 1990.  As in, only 10 years before the actual 21st century happened.  To me, this perfectly encapsulates the shift between Disney's lofty educational phase (best demonstrated by 1980s Epcot) and it's more current, quick-turn-around entertainment phase (California Adventure).  They're still preaching about the future here, while ignoring that the "future" in question is on its way fast.

"At Mysterious Island, Guests would discover the lost City of Atlantis on a modern version of a Disneyland "E" attraction.  Children could follow clues to buried treasure on Pirate Island, while the more intrepid might dare to board Nemo's Lava Cruiser and careen suspended through dangerous caverns."

Well, this paragraph more or less happened, albeit a bit scrambled around.  Tokyo DisneySea has the Mysterious Island, complete with volcano.  Guests can encounter Atlantis in a suspended vehicle on 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, or outrun some lava on the thrilling volcanic E-ticket Journey to the Center of the Earth.  Families can also have fun exploring a fortress and ship at Fortress Explorations, near Mysterious Island.  While Fortress Explorations isn't technically pirate-themed, Jack Sparrow does do meet and greets there.

"Aqua-labyrinth, a challenging maze with walls made only of water, would serve as the entrance to Heroes' Harbor, where they myths and legends of the sea come to life.  Here guests would find rides themed to the adventures of Sinbad, Ulysses and other storied adventurers from the past."

Well, the Sinbad ride happened, albeit placed in the Agrabah-like Arabian Coast section instead.

"On the edge of the Bay facing downtown, a boardwalk would recreate the nostalgia of the Long Beach oceanfront in its heyday.  Nearby at Fleets of Fantasy, a harborful of fabled and fanciful ships, including outsized Chinese junks and Egyptian galleys, would disguise exciting rides and dining and entertainment experiences."

Paradise Pier, is that you!?!?  I've read criticism of the Paradise/Pixar pier concept as being one of the poorest Disney themes, due to intentionally mimicking the kind of unthemed amusement park that Disneyland generally replaced.  It's exceptionally odd to read about the "weak" boardwalk theme being originally intended for DisneySea, of all places.

"Shoppers and diners will be intrigued by DisneySea's themed environments--a Grecian village, an Asian watermarket, a Caribbean lagoon.  Here guests might be seen surfing, snorkeling, or wading through tropical reefs teeming with fish.  Some will experience the ultimate underwater adventure--being lowered in a steel cage into a tank full of sharks."

Interestingly, none of the themes in this paragraph ended up in the final DisneySea.  If you're wondering, Tokyo DisneySea has lands based on Italy (Mediterranean Harbor), Jules Verne's novels (Mysterious Island), The Little Mermaid animated film (Mermaid Lagoon), the Middle East (Arabian Coast), South American jungles (Lost River Delta), and New York City (American Waterfront), as well as the SEA headquarters fortress and the steampunk/sci-fi Port Discovery.

It's arguable, though, that the surfing and snorkeling type attractions eventually ended up expressed via Castaway Cay on the Disney Cruise Line.

Then there's the last paragraph:

"At the rim of the American continent and the Pacific Ocean, DisneySea will be a place of magic and wonder offering a unique entertainment experience."

DisneySea totally ended up on the rim of the Pacific Ocean... on the other side of it.

This was followed by the two most familiar artworks from this project.  I've seen these widely circulated as WESTCOT concept art, or even Tokyo DisneySea concept art. Here they are in their true context: artwork for a Californian DisneySea that never happened.

The rest of the text and figures in the document are pretty dry and cover practical matters about assuring Port Disney's road changes won't negatively impact the city, that they'll comply with shoreline access laws, etc.

The last point of interest I found about the parks were figures 10 and 11, which showed a color-coded overview of the whole resort.  At the time, Disney owned both the Queen Mary and the Spruce Goose, and planned on incorporating them into the Port Disney resort.

The SS Columbia, a large passenger-liner shaped attraction building at Tokyo DisneySea, looks suspiciously like the Queen Mary, and was likely included in the Tokyo version as a modification of the original Long Beach plans.  Coincidentally, in 1997 there were plans to potentially send the Queen Mary ship to Tokyo.  As of 2019, the ship is still in Long Beach, albeit no longer owned by Disney.

To announce PortDisney to the public, Disney published a modified form of its Preliminary Master Plan in the Long Beach Business Journal.  As explained in the introduction on the front of the announcement, it's almost identical to the internal document, aside from some different illustrations.

The most significant alteration was the inclusion of a letter from the Walt Disney Company to the Directory of Community Development of Long Beach and the Director of Port Planning of Long Beach.  Most of it was rather standard "we're confident this project will be well received, will be mutually beneficial to the city, and have thought out the practicalities of transportation" spiel, but one paragraph near the end sticks out like a glaring red beacon.  It read as follows:

"As you know, we are also in discussions with the City of Anaheim concerning an alternative project adjacent to Disneyland.  A final decision will not be made for come time, and will ultimately be based on several factors, including community support, governmental approvals, public sector participation, and theme park and resort economics."

Ah, the birth of the notorious DCA.

Here's the whole letter if you wish to view it.  It was difficult to scan due to the size of the newspaper (it had to be done in sections and digitally stitched together), so I apologize for any difficulties in viewing:

Click to view

Page V included a new artwork of a view of the marina from the proposed hotel.

Page VII also included a new section clarifying the proposed fate of the Queen Mary and Spruce Goose.  The Queen Mary would have been moved 700 feet to accommodate construction of a hotel.  Meanwhile, the Spruce Goose was "not included in the master plan", with Disney promising to figure out a use for the plane if the Port Disney project got the green light.

The Spruce Goose is now at the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum in Oregon, having been sent there in 1993.

The last tidbit of California DisneySea I have to share with you are these marker sketches by the artists who shared all this material with me.  Done on newsprint, they depict the cruise ship docks for PortDisney.  These are the only pieces of their DisneySea work that they still have.

And thus ends my exploration into one of the great What Could Have Beens of Disney Parks.  The Oriental Land Company took over the DisneySea idea when Long Beach rejected it, leading to the brilliant park that stands today.  Meanwhile, Disney went ahead with that Anaheim project, to, well, results of varying quality.  In all honesty, I can't say I'm disappointed in how history played out.  While I would have loved to have had DisneySea as one of my local Californian parks, I doubt that it would have been made into the absolute masterpiece it is had it not been built in Tokyo.  Given the eventual time frame of DisneySea and DCA's openings, we would have gotten a DisneySea built by the decisions and budgets that led to California Adventure.

We dodged disaster on that one.