#I can go on and on and on about the themes and allusions in Mickey 17 tho and OMFG Mark Ruffalo was amazing

[violetdelightsx]

Saw Novocaine yesterday and Mickey 17 today and both were really good!

[the-most-lamentable]

murder mystery playlist! which song is your favourite. what scene does it relate to (if youre comfortable sharing before fic is posted). which one did you pick first. any ones that got ditched or couldn't make the cut.

all my love!!! fistbump!!!

!!! Fuck yeah, you know I'll be honest I think its just the two of us reading these asks so I don't mind some light spoilers So I think my favourite number in relation to the story is It's Oh So Quiet by Betty Hutton for Better Than Escapovich. I loved the wild contrast throughout the song and thought it matched quite well with the wild pivoting between psychological horror monolgues, sneaking around, and the action sequence towards the end. I always like correlating the more action heavy and emotion packed chapters with dance songs such as Sway by Rosemary Clooney for Suspicions Abound I: Chaos In The Dining Hall since it opens with that strong stark musical sting (mini allusion to the scoring of Clue which used a similar thing)

The first one picked was Guilty by Al Bowlly because it just fit so well with the slimy nature of Basil and was very much an inspiration for his sort of language and vibes. Ironically The Great Imposter was a much later discovery but I was like Fuck that's it thats the story right there plus it sounds like a stage name And can double as an allusion to James and his heavy insecurities and tendencies for imposter syndrome.

There were about an hours worth of songs ditched. Notable inclusions are: Axman Jazz- Squirrel Nut Zippers, Floozie-Alex North, I put a spell on you (technically in there ig), The Masochism Tango- Tom Lehrer, Murder! Murder!-American Murder Song, Copacabana, Dynamite- Betty Lee I think, Sing Sing Sing- Louis Prima, Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered- Ella Fitzgerald, This Ole House-Rosemary Clooney, etc. Most were cut for sake of not fitting with genre, tone, or theme but a lot of these were on the writing playlist for this one. On the subject of Music, here's the characters favourite genres James is a fan of early 00s girl bands a la Letters To Cleo Mickey likes 90s boy bands, a fact he doesn't hide but still suprises people Kevin likes nu metal but he also owns a copy of Criss Angel's EPs which are real and you should go listen to the mindfreak soundtrack it's so funny but also pretty decent. Keith is a 70s poprock guy, ELO is his favourite band Bär,, well I don't know what genre this is but the song Von fremden Planeten by Schloss Einstein Band. That sort of vibe, german new age pop. Spitzmaus doesn't listen to music, just random podcasts and audiobooks or spotifys automade playlists for workouts.

[disneyat34]

Fantasia at 34

A review by Adam D. Jaspering

By 1940, Disney proved he was as large a titan in the world of feature films as he was in animated shorts. But as the saying goes, a man's reach should exceed his grasp. His third feature, Fantasia, would be an audacious experiment.

Disney had been synchronizing animated cartoons to classical music since 1928. His trademarked Silly Symphony shorts earned him seven Academy Awards. They were a foundational element of the Disney empire, but they were outmoded by 1939. Audiences were preferring plot-driven shorts. 

Coincidentally, another Disney creation was also in decline in this era. It’s hard to fathom, but Mickey Mouse’s popularity with audiences peaked in 1935. By 1939, he was eclipsed by both Donald Duck and Goofy. More frequently, Mickey appeared alongside the two than appearing in his own independent shorts.

Disney had plans to bring both musical shorts and Mickey Mouse back into the limelight. Disney employed the assistance of The Philadelphia Orchestra and conductor Leopold Stokowsky. The Sorcerer's Apprentice was completed in 1938, pairing Mickey Mouse with the music of Paul Dukas in a nine-minute cinematic epic. 

However, Walt Disney’s brother Roy, accountant for the company, crunched the numbers. The $125,000 budget made the short a logistical nightmare. To make a profit, the short needed to be released as a feature film. And to be a feature film, it needed to be feature length. 

The Concert Feature, as it was initially called, grew in size and scale. The budget grew to $2.8 million. The crew ballooned to over one thousand artists and animators. After much effort and many headaches, Fantasia was finally released in November, 1940.

The film starts with a heavily stylized depiction of the orchestra and their instruments. The background is blue and vibrant, but every musician is ensconced in shadow. Lights from the music stands illuminate a negligible part or their personage. We can see the musicians, but only just. 

From the onset, the film accomplishes two goals: First, it wants you to understand you are seeing live-action people. Mickey Mouse is on all the posters. Disney’s name is attached to the film. But these are real, non-animated people. Quite possibly the first live-action people filmed by Walt Disney since his Alice shorts.

Second, Fantasia wants you to realize you are seeing real people, but they are not the focus. The attention is not on them, but their instruments. This is a film not about people, but sound and music.

This is furthered as the sounds of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor begins. The silhouettes of the musicians are projected onto the backdrop, scaled larger than their sources. The musicians become literal giants. The shadows create a form of puppetry, becoming indistinguishable from animation. Fantasy and reality, sound and imagery have become intertwined. It’s difficult to determine when the cameras stop rolling, and the ink and paints take over.

We are informed from the outset that Fantasia’s visuals are not those of trained musicians or scholars. These images are the thoughts and feelings of animators and artists. We are privy to new interpretations of classic works (well, new to 1940), beginning with Toccata and Fugue. 

Defined as “Absolute Music,” Toccata and Fugue is an instantly recognizable piece of classical music. It is the go-to stock music whenever a movie, TV show or cartoon wants to quickly and unmistakably associate a scene with a sense of foreboding doom. But Fantasia undoes this eternally mired association; the booming bass offers no semblance of the intimidating or macabre.

Emcee Deems Taylor warns outright we’ll be experiencing non-representative form and abstract imagery. If the impressionist movement coexisted with film, it would probably resemble something like this. In a way, it’s almost a warning for impatient and fickle audiences. Doubly so, as it leads the procession of animated shorts. It’s a fair warning: This is experimental film. Your mileage may vary.

The abstraction gives way to the first representative piece. Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite; perhaps the most widely known ballet in modern society. We get a great demonstration about the longevity and shifting legacy of classical works as Taylor informs us “nobody performs it nowadays.” Art does not belong to an era, it belongs to the ages. I’m 34, and I’ve never known a Christmas where The Nutcracker wasn’t being performed somewhere in the city.

The Nutcracker Suite depicts the various flora and fauna of an enchanted forest, all engaged in a unique and stylized dance suited to their physique. What’s more, each movement is indicative to a nation and culture. We see Russian flowers, Arabian fish, French blossoms, and Chinese mushrooms (questionably stylized Chinese mushrooms. Thank you, 1940s).

As problematic as the mushrooms are, I’m more perplexed by the Arabian fish. Obviously the sequence is an allusion to the eroticized stereotype of middle eastern women, particularly the Dance of Seven Veils and other subsequent belly dance numbers.

It’s a very g-rated version of the burlesque staple, but one has to wonder why it exists at all. At some point in the late 1930s/early 1940s, someone designed a fish to look and act like a belly dancer. Those eyes exist only for the purpose of portraying a sense of eroticism. Not to kinkshame somebody on Tumblr, but it’s very clear somebody on Disney’s staff was working through some things.

Each of these dances feature plants and animals evocative in style and movement of their corresponding dance’s nationality. This implies the animators were indeed versed on the background of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite and his original intent. This breaks the promise from the start of the film: interpretations of artists, not of scholars. 

It’s not an invalidating breach, and not total (surely Tchaikovsky never intended Clara and the prince to meet an amorous fish). But if Fantasia deliberately specified itself to not utilize scholarly interpretations. They waffled on this promise, and it should be noted.

Dukas’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is an interesting specimen. Not only has Mickey Mouse’s cautionary tale of a proper work ethic completely eclipsed its musical source in popular culture, but the short has eclipsed the entirety of Fantasia.

When one hears the word “Fantasia,” one’s mind immediately leaps to Mickey Mouse in a bathrobe. They think of the blue hat, festooned with stars. They think of an army of brooms, brought to life, obediently and endlessly carrying buckets of water. They think of the bassoons secondarily. Most are unaware the music existed before the movie.

That said, there is no better representation of Fantasia’s central tenet: a marriage of animation as an artistic medium and classical music as an eternal font of inspiration. In The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, not a word of dialogue is spoken and not a single intertitle is used. An idea is formed, expressed and delivered by the movement onscreen, buoyed by the themes and mood of the orchestral score. What results is a tale beloved for generations.

Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring offers a brief history of prehistoric life. We see the cosmos create planet Earth. Tectonic plates shift and form land. Life is formed, evolving from single celled organisms, progressing up the evolutionary ladder. But this truncated history of eons and eons comprises only half the segment. The remainder is a grandiose depiction of life in the nadir of the Mesozoic Era. Dinosaurs in all their titanic glory.

Every few years, an animation company attempts to create a dinosaur-centered film. Either through lack of confidence or executive meddling, these dinosaurs aren’t allowed to simply be dinosaurs. We don’t see the glory of the creatures or the power struggle between herbivore and carnivore. Instead, these dinosaurs speak. They learn lessons and have character arcs. They’re often used as a parable of teamwork and community, or an allegorical tale of standing up to one’s oppressors. 

Disney themselves fell into that trap in the year 2000, but we’ll address that soon enough. Dinosaurs are mesmerizing in their own right, as the animals they were. They require no personification. They need no story and no character. A musical short may be the closest we’ll ever get to such a film. For now, we can still enjoy the sight of a tyrannosaur fighting a stegosaurus to the death.

An interesting element of Fantasia, a remnant of a bygone era, is the intermission. When Taylor announced the film would break for a 15 minute intermission, I was concerned as the orchestra began slowly shuffling out of the amphitheater. Was the movie really going to stop? Fantasia is already fighting an uphill battle, trying to keep audiences with temperamental patience captivated. Stopping all inertia for fifteen minutes is suicidal.

Many films from the first half of film history, especially those longer than three hours, survive in their current forms with an intermission built in. Their home release is presented exactly as their theatrical release. The score’s overture plays over a meticulously designed title card, encouraging theater-goers to stretch their legs and visit the lobby. These intermissions have been preserved for posterity, but are wholly inconsequential with fast forward buttons and chapter select options.

I was concerned such would be the case for Fantasia, which barely crests the two-hour mark. It’s the longest of all Disney’s animated features, but surely that record is not because of a deliberate 15-minute time out? If persnickety audience of the 1940s needed a break, what of children in the digital age? They would minimize the window and never return.

Fantasia’s title card is present, but immediately returns back to the film, all for the better. It’s a pointless detour maintained for an illusion of legacy and integrity. Fantasia’s musical numbers are all well and good in their own right, but the live-action segments with the orchestra is full of questionable moments like these. 

For example, at one point, a percussionist interrupts Deems Taylor by knocking over his bells. There’s no build up to this, no explanation, and no commentary. It happens, and is promptly forgotten. If it’s a joke, it makes no sense. If it’s a mistake, why was it left in?

Perhaps Disney had no idea how to carry these live segments. He was afraid to let the segments speak for themselves, feeling obligated to inject them with more than a curated introduction. He needed to pepper in little moments that would either change the dynamic or mandate attention.

These moments rob the gravitas delivered by the orchestra, interrupt the flow of the picture, and make the audience wait impatiently for the next segment. Disney Studios would experiment with live-action film over the next decade, but these missteps display exactly why Disney Studios was not ready for a fully live-action film until the 1950s.

Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony is not the strangest segment of the film, but it becomes more surreal the more it’s examined. Early on, after a brief dance with satyrs, unicorns, and pegasi, we’re greeted with a number of topless, bathing centaurettes. One wouldn’t think Disney would brazenly depict frontal nudity, but there we are. Fully nude cherubs further the dissonance.

Greek and Roman mythology contains stories of heroes, legends, monsters, and adventure. It’s also rife with depictions of incest, rape, violence, and general malfeasance. Adapting any tale concerning the Olympians requires great skill, lest it be so thematically vulgar, it’s outright rejected by modern sensibilities. Even moreso when the tale is to be presented in a G-rated setting. As obvious a statement this may seem, it’s odd for Fantasia to have an entire segment dedicated to the Roman deity Bacchus and his trademark love of wine.

To say the wine flows is an understatement. A golden chalice overflows with some of the most tantalizing violet liquid ever depicted on film.I don’t even like wine, but I would take up a glass if it was offered.

Bacchus merrily sways back and forth in a drunken stupor for his entire appearance. Caught in a mixture of revelry and lightheadedness, the inebriated god is the central figure of a literal bacchanal. Fantasia was released the same year as Pinocchio, which depicted drunkards in such a negative light, they were turned into donkeys. Bacchus rides a unicorn-donkey who enjoys the taste of wine as much as his master. Behold: The duality of Disney.

Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours is perhaps the second most famous segment to come from Fantasia. The premise behind the segment is simple. Ballerinas are renowned for their lithe bodies and graceful elegance. What if, instead of traditional ballerinas, they were depicted by animals? Animals renowned for their girth, gangling physique, or stumpy limbs? It’s the contrast that provides comedy. Whatever age, whatever era, it will always be funny watching a hippopotamus do ballet.

As such, Fantasia gives us the sight of ostriches, elephants, alligators, and hippopotamuses, dressed in traditional tutus and slippers, dancing to the best of their ability. To the animator’s credit, the disparate physiques of the animals are hardly an issue. The absurd sizes and shapes of the animals bend and flex in a comical, but equally elegant manner. 

The final segment is a combination of Mussorgsky’s A Night on Bald Mountain and Schubert’s Ave Maria. Here, the devil presides over Walpurgis Night, welcoming ghouls, ghosts, and witches alike from the realm of the damned into the world of the living. They are then conquered, banished back from whence they came, by the choir of a mere church processional. 

For the longest time, I’ve heard the central figure of this piece referred to as “Chernobog,” a central figure of Russian and Balkan folklore. Much like Honest John in Pinocchio, this naming must be supplemental or subsequently; he is never referred to as Chernobog in the film. He is simply referred to by Taylor as “Satan.” 

So far in Fantasia, we’ve been exposed to murder, alcoholism, nudity, and sexy fish. Having the Prince of Darkness make an appearance is the final taboo that Walt Disney could break. Perhaps this is why the name Chernobog was attached retroactively. Pious Americans couldn’t abide a depiction of the devil in an animated feature.

All in all, I prefer the idea of the horned figure being a literal depiction of Satan over Chernobog. Primarily, it makes much more sense thematically. Why would a Russian myth be toppled by a Christian hymn? He wouldn’t, unless it was some misguided attempt at an analogy of Christianity versus Paganism. But why make an analogy when the literal interpretation is exactly appropriate? 

Possibly, western righteousness defeating a Russian emblem could be interpreted as a Cold War fable. This is rather unlikely, as the Cold War didn’t start in earnest until years after Fantasia’s release. 

Second, if we interpret the character as the devil, it further serves the story Disney’s animators were trying to tell: one of good versus evil. Darkness versus light. Chaos versus order. The sacred versus the profane. Dramatic conflict in both imagery, mood, and music. The wild, unbridled chaos of Walpurgis Night, contrasted against the elegant calmness of a serene morning in May.  If the demon was indeed Chernobog, it shows either a complete misunderstanding of the mythic figure, or a complete noncommittal to the story.

The Night on Bald Mountain portion is impressive and magnificent. The terrifying monstrosities are a cornucopia of Halloweenish delights, and they move with such intensity and power. Fire is used as a uniting theme throughout this segment, and the heat and intensity can be felt through the animation. 

I cannot find any sources confirming this, but it feels like the spiritual successor to 1922′s Häxan. Disney animators evoked the sensation of German Expressionism (particularly the works of Robert Weine) in certain moments of Snow White. I wouldn’t be surprised if Häxan served as a primary influence here.

Satan is depicted in an imposing, terrifying form. It’s a laundry list of every evil hallmark. He has glowing eyes, fangs, horns, bat wings, a muscular physique, sharp claws at the end of each finger, the ability to manipulate shadows, and more identifiers plucked from the nightmares of children everywhere.

Ave Maria sits in an odd position in popular culture. It’s been completely co-opted by the Christmas season. So much so, hearing the music detached from a holiday setting strikes up feelings of confusion. Moreso is hearing a quiet, choral interpretation backed by strings, and not a tenor vocalist belting out the opening at full force. It’s beauty is in its restraint. As the beatitude goes, blessed are the meek.

What’s more, after the thundering bravado of A Night on Bald Mountain, the hushed woodwinds and strings seem almost ashamed to make noise. Throughout, I was wondering when the piece would truly begin. Then, before I received my expected answer, the film ended. Ave Maria truly is the counterpart; quiet, dignified, and penitent.

Sitting in the darkness, watching a black screen, I’m met with nothing but a void. There’s no farewell from Stokowsky or Taylor. No final bow from the orchestra. No coda. We the viewer are simply left with a vacuum of sound and imagery. A moment, at last, to fully reflect on what we had seen. Music had provided us images and stories for two hours. In the aftermath, silence and darkness were just as powerful.

Unsurprisingly, Fantasia was a commercial failure upon release. The avant-garde presentation simply didn’t meld with audiences expectations. The film earned back roughly $325,000 of its $2.8 million budget. 

But, as I previously mentioned, art does not belong to an era, but to the ages. Critical and audience approval of the film has grown in subsequent years, and Fantasia is considered one of Disney’s masterpieces. It even turned a profit in 1969 after a series of re-releases.

Sometimes a grand experiment begins with a meager idea, like marketing a corporate mascot. Sometimes that idea can blossom into a grand work. And sometimes a showpiece needs to age like wine before it’s appreciated properly. We’ll never know our true legacy, but a truly good idea, like good music, will be appreciated through the ages.

Fantasia Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Pinocchio 

[teamhawkeye]

So I’ve had a while now to reflect after finishing up the Far Cry New Dawn story

WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

It...was a mixed bag overall. There were some things i liked - but there was a whole lot i didn’t like

The Good

The landscape. Hope County has always been gorgeous and it was nice to see it post-Collapse blooming and thriving for the most part

The music. Love it or hate it, it fit the Mad Max-esque theme the Highwaymen had going for them, both score and licensed soundtrack

Improvements in gameplay. Specifically with the GFH. I used Boomer almost exclusively in FC5 and two of my biggest complaints were 1.) he was not able to ride in vehicles with me and i felt bad making him run behind me everywhere and 2.) even with a ton of perks, he was very easily incapacitated by enemies. With Timber, they gave him the ability to ride in vehicles so you no longer have to feel bad about making him walk and they buffed him greatly in comparison to Boomer - he was often like a little walking tank and I greatly appreciated that they took those things into consideration and made tweaks there.

New Photo Mode. oh my god, YES. it still wasn’t perfect by any means, but my god, it was soooooo nice to be able to give your Captain life and emotion!

The Outpost system. Escalating difficulty so you could go back and still have a challenge even as you advanced your perks and weapons was a nice touch, so things never got too easy or stale in that area

Expeditions. It was fun being able to leave Hope County for a bit and see new locations and spend some time doing stuff other than milking the Outposts for ethanol

The Not-So Good

Abandoning characters from FC5. They may be dead and gone, but how are John and Faith and Jacob so glossed over? John maybe had the best fortune in nods to him and the last game, having both his ranch and bunker serve as important locations in New Dawn...but what about Faith and Jacob? Why was there no mention whatsoever to Eli, Whitehorse, Pratt, Hudson, or Dutch? And beyond the dead from FC5′s canon story, what about missing Resistance members? Jess Black, Wheaty, Tammy, Tweak...what happened to them? why were we given no closure on their stories at all? There was so little time spent reflecting on the events of the previous game or its characters - it very much felt like “they’re dead, not questions now, move on”...but the characters of the last game were a big part of what made it so great and it felt like a great disservice to the fans to have them swept under the rug like that.

Main story. I mean...what the fuck even was that last third part of the game??? The first third of the game started off on solid footing but it went off the rails well before the end. And there seemed to be a severe lack of cohesion between what we saw and learned in FC5 to what we see and learn in New Dawn. Joseph’s story about his daughter seems far less important knowing he had some bastard son hanging around one of the bunkers the whole time - why was there never any allusion to him whatsoever? He certainly felt shoehorned in as a result. And how is it one of the Big rules of Eden’s Gate was “no fornication” but Joseph can get away with it? That doesn’t line up with the antagonist we faced off with all of FC5. And what was with the magic??? Like, there was a touch of that in FC5 with the Bliss and the scope of just what it could do...but a ton of the Bliss’s power could be argued to be auditory and visual hallucinations. There was just straight up...magic to explain some of the weird things they included in New Dawn and it made that make some of it feel weak and hollow

Disservice to its villains. Mickey and Lou were done dirty, it’s just that plain and simple. Ubisoft didn’t give them much of anything to do and wasted all their potential. One of the main draws of FC5 was just how good the villains were and one of the largest complaints i saw from FC5 was just how much more interaction we all wanted with them. New Dawn gave their villains a backseat to almost everything else going on in the game. Mickey and Lou almost felt detached from the story at times. With the FC5, one of the best things about the Seeds was how connected they felt to everything you did: they met you face to face a number of times, radioed in constantly to taunt and harass you, upped the ante when you put the heat on them...with Mickey and Lou, it never felt like they actually took you seriously. Or didn’t even care, despite saying otherwise. They address you directly maybe once all game aside from when you have cutscenes with them face-to-face. Their strongest moment was in their defeat and it showed what major potential they had as antagonists - and to be sympathetic as well - and Ubisoft really blew it there and that’s one of the biggest shames

Disservice to its new characters. The new Resistance/Survivor characters got shafted too. You could easily go all game without knowing a single thing about any of the new GFH or Specialists for Prosperity - there’s just not the time to really get to know them or even like them all that much. Rush was certainly built up...to only be kidnapped and potentially left untouched for quite some time and when you go to rescue him, he’s sidelined immediately with very little interaction with him thereafter. His death wasn’t nearly as poignant as Eli or Virgil’s from FC5 - those were two characters who were constantly talking in your ear or available to talk to and help progress the story along. Rush was put there simply to die and give the Captain motivation to keep going and it’s a damn shame since he deserved better - don;t get me wrong, I liked him and was affected by his death, but the emotional impact there is just not as strong when Ubisoft gave him so little time or opportunity to really get close to him like previous installments did with characters. 

Expeditions. I know i said this was a good thing - and largely it is - but it was so small and underused, it was such a letdown. They kinda touted Expeditions as being a replacement for Arcade of FC5, which made me think there was going to be a ton of locations to explore and replay...but in reality, you got like 6 maps and that’s all. Maybe they’ll add more, but that seemed like that got hyped up for nothing

Scale. I get that this was a smaller game, reflected in the time it took to crank it out and the lower price, but god does it feel small. You can almost count how many missions there are on two hands. There were so few collectibles or side missions - idk what’s supposed to be the draw after finishing the main story when you have virtually nothing left to do. And beyond the game’s play length, the map was chopped in half and it was bullshit, quite frankly. Why the hell is the Bliss so concentrated now up in Jacob’s region - shouldn’t that have been the Henbane, since that’s where it was focused and created and still polluted the water there even after destroying Faith’s bunker? It felt cheap to carve off chunks of the map under the guise of “oooh, radiation zone! turn back!” We should have been allowed to explore the remains of Faith’s and Jacob’s bunker, of the Wolf’s Den, or finally be allowed inside the Veteran’s Center! Or go back to the chopper crash site on Joseph’s compound, the truck where Hudson, Pratt, and Whitehorse died on Dutch’s Island, or the truck Burke crashed into the river in the Henbane - all were completely gone and that felt super cheap, like they made no lasting impact when they were such huge moments in FC5. I feel like the two things most of us were excited to do when we learned we were returning to Hope County were learning about what happened to the characters of FC5 and seeing references to those who were lost and then to be able to explore and investigate every corner of the map we had in the previous game to see how the landscape how changed in every place we once knew so well.

Replay value. Honestly, aside from a second playthrough to sweep up achievements/trophies i didn’t get the first time around, i’m not all that inclined to keep the game installed on my console’s harddrive and replay it. If anything, playing this game has reminded me of everything i loved so much about FC5 and made me homesick for it - i’m already yearning to return to pre-Collapse Hope County and i haven’t even been done with New Dawn for 24 hours. It’s a shame when i so love the story that spawned this sequel, but it doesn’t possess any of the heart and soul that the original has.

There’s probably more i’m forgetting, but i’ve been typing for a while now and my brain has called it quits. I just know i went in with too high of expectations and was always going to be disappointed when New Dawn didn’t measure up to FC5...but it fell so short and that is the biggest issue i have. It could have been so much more and that’s the real tragedy

[dailynynews-blog]

Buena Vista Street at Disney California Adventure

New Post has been published on https://www.usatelegraph.com/2018/buena-vista-street-disney-california-adventure/

Buena Vista Street at Disney California Adventure

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The Adventure Starts Here

•••

As part of the five-year Disney California Adventure expansion that wrapped up in June 2012, the main entrance to the second park at the Disneyland Resort got a makeover. In place of the generic turnstiles the once lined the plaza, guests now enter through gates designed to look like the Pan-Pacific Auditorium, a stylish Los Angeles landmark that is no longer standing. If the entry area looks familiar to park fans (beyond the Pan-Pacific connection), that’s because the main gate at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, part of Florida’s Disney World, shares the same architectural reference.

Next up: (Buena Vista) Street Cred- The park’s first impressions.

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(Buena Vista) Street Cred

•••

Before the expansion of Disney California Adventure and its grand reopening in June 2012, the park made an underwhelming first impression. The mishmash of California icons that used to greet visitors beyond the entry plaza didn’t do much to engage them or compel them to stick around and explore the area. In contrast, the richly detailed and lavishly themed Buena Vista Street that now leads into the park does a wonderful job setting the tone and introducing a compelling story.

“One of the things I loved so much about Disneyland as a kid,” said John Lasseter, principal creative advisor for Walt Disney Imagineering (and Pixar chief), “was the immersive entertainment that Walt Disney created. You’re transported to another place and time.” Deeming the original Disney California Adventure not up to Disneyland-level snuff, Lasseter was among the visionaries who worked on the improved 2.0 version.

The place guests now encounter is Los Angeles, and the time is the Art Deco- and Jazz-Age-infused 1920s and 1930s. Whereas Main Street, U.S.A. at Disneyland represents the idealized small American town of Walt Disney’s youth, Buena Vista Street recalls the city where he came to start his career and pursue his oversized dreams.

In reference to the new front of the park, Bob Weis, executive vice president of Walt Disney Imagineering and one of the creative leaders of the park’s expansion, said, “If you get Act One right, everything else follows.” He added that the entry street is designed to make an emotional connection with guests.

Next up: It’s a Gas, Gas, Gas- Get your motor running at DCA.

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It’s a Gas, Gas, Gas – Oswald’s

•••

As an homage to California car culture and as a reference to one of Walt Disney’s first animated characters, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, a period gas station called Oswald’s sits at the head of Buena Vista Street. Instead of automotive needs, the shop sells items that park guests might want for their visit such as hats, water bottles, and sunscreen.

As with the entry plaza, Oswald’s takes its cue from Disney’s Hollywood Studios in Florida, which also has a shop masquerading as a vintage gas station at the front of its park. Interestingly, it is one of two “gas stations” in Disney California Adventure. The other one, located in Cars Land is actually a restaurant, Flo’s V8 Cafe.

Besides Oswald’s, Buena Vista Street includes a number of allusions to Walt Disney and his rich history. For example, one of the second-floor windows has a sign for an optometry practice called “Eye Works.” This is a reference to Ub Iwerks, a gifted artist who was one of Disney’s first collaborators and the animator of the first Mickey Mouse cartoon, Plane Crazy. The shop, Julius Katz & Sons, is derived from Julius the Cat, an animated character that appeared in Disney’s series of Alice Comedies.

Next up: All Aboard- The Red Car Trolley.

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All Aboard – The Red Car Trolley

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Adding to the pleasant bustle guests encounter on Buena Vista Street is the Red Car Trolley. Harking back to the Pacific Electric Railway in Los Angeles, the streetcars stop near the main gate of the park at Buena Vista Plaza. From there, they travel down the street, go around Carthay Circle, wind down Hollywood Boulevard, and end at Hollywood Tower Hotel, better known as the Tower of Terror.

The trolleys, with their crisp-suited conductors, are charming and evocative and help tie together areas of the park. The electrical cables strung above the tracks, known as catenary lines, are for show only; each car has its own onboard rechargeable battery. The trolleys are remarkably quiet and often require some spirited bell-ringing and whistle-blowing to warn pedestrians in their path.

Next up: Storied Stores- The shops along Buena Vista Street.

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Storied Stores – The Shops Along Buena Vista Street

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Buena Vista Street is not long and seems to end too soon. It is, however, loaded with details to explore in its storefront windows, second-story signs, and other locations. Although the shops have different facades, and maintain different identities, they have open walls which allow visitors to pass through from one to the next. They are also surprisingly spacious.

The largest store is Elias & Company, which is a lovely reproduction of the department stores that used to grace downtown areas (before the advent of suburban shopping malls). Elias is the name of Walt Disney’s father as well as his middle name.

Other shops include the Dumbo-themed toy store, Big Top Toys, a note-perfect vintage fruit stand, Mortimer’s Market (Mortimer was the name Disney gave to his cartoon mouse before his wife suggested he change it to Mickey), and the candy shop, Trolley Treats. Among the delectable concoctions offered in the latter are Mickey-shaped chocolate chip cookie with chocolate-covered ears.

Next up: What’s in Store?- Inside one of the shops.

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What’s in Store? Inside a Shop Along Buena Vista Street.

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While the stores generally sell the usual theme park retail suspects, including hats, T-shirts, and imprinted items, the shops themselves are finely detailed, richly appointed, and reflective of the era they portray. Note the gorgeous Art Deco flourishes, wrought iron railing, and handsome window displays in Elias and Company, for instance.

Next up: S’no Ordinary Building- The Carthay Circle Theater

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S’no Ordinary Building – The Carthay Circle Theater

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At the end of Buena Vista Street is Carthay Circle and its namesake theater. The stylized building is based on the actual Carthay Circle, an elegant theater that was the world premiere site of Disney’s first feature-length animated film, 1937’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. The original structure no longer exists, but it also served as the inspiration for a shop building in Disney’s Hollywood Studios at Walt Disney World.

As a focal point for the park, the building is not all that grand-scale (although it is taller, if narrower, than Sleeping Beauty Castle at Disneyland). When Disney announced its plans to construct the iconic theater, I had expected that it would include a presentation or attraction, perhaps one that featured Walt Disney or the early years of his studio. Instead, the building houses a lounge and an upscale restaurant.

Next up: Not Popcorn or Milk Duds- The Carthay Circle Restaurant

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Not Popcorn or Milk Duds – The Carthay Circle Restaurant

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It may look like a theater from the outside, but the second floor of the Carthay Circle houses an elegant and upscale restaurant. The central room has dark wood, a chandelier with a skylight and colorful inlaid print, and tables with upholstered banquette seats. A series of smaller rooms are arranged around the main dining space and offer relatively hushed settings for quiet meals and respites from the park tumult.

While the old-school atmosphere harkens to the early 20th century, the menu is decidedly contemporary and focuses on lighter, regional fare. Seasonal produce, locally sourced fish, and Asian dishes are all featured on the menu. Wines, with an emphasis on California varieties, are also a prominent part of the experience. Many of the wines are available by the glass. How good is the eatery? Soon after it opened, a panel of travel experts voted Carthay Circle Disneyland’s best table-service restaurant.

As an added bonus, guests who order an entree along with either an appetizer or a dessert receive reserved viewing for World of Color.

Reservations are strongly advised. Call 714-781-DINE.

Next up: Drink In the Atmosphere- The Carthay Circle Theater Lounge.

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Drink In the Atmosphere- The Carthay Circle Theater Lounge

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The first floor of the theater features a small lounge that offers cocktails, specialty drinks, local beers, and wine along with small plates to share. A friend and I tried some of the dishes, including the Vietnamese twice cooked beef taco (very tasty with a refreshing salsa and just a hint of heat), the Ebi shrimp roll (artfully prepared, a bit on the sweet side), and the warm barbecue pork roll (topped with crunchy onion rings and delicate pea tendrils). The standout was the lobster pad thai imperial roll which had just the right blend of flavors, including cilantro, cashew dipping sauce, and notes of sugar to balance the heat.

While pricey, the food was quite good, and the atmosphere is wonderful. The lobby area, where both diners waiting to be seated in the upstairs restaurant and lounge guests can mingle, offers displays of artifacts from Disney’s archives. No reservations are required for the lounge.

Next up: It All Started with a Mouse- Storytellers statue in Carthay Circle.

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It All Started with a Mouse – Storytellers statue in Carthay Circle

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Reinforcing the the theme of Disney California Adventure (with an emphasis on the Disney), a lovely statue of a young Walt Disney and his cartoon alter ego, Mickey Mouse, stands in front of the Carthay Circle theater. The spot is a picture-taking magnet and attracts a crowd, but it’s worth waiting to get a good view (and a photo if you wish) of the charming duo.

1923 is engraved onto an accompanying plaque, which signifies the year that Walt Disney came to California and established his studio. It is also marks the beginning of the era that the front of the park is supposed to represent. Entering the main gate, guests “walk down the street in Walt’s shoes and feel what he may have felt when he first arrived in Los Angeles,” said Lisa Girolami, director and senior show producer for Walt Disney Imagineering. At the end of the street, she noted that guests encounter the statue to bring the story home.

Next up: The Scoop on Sponsors- Carthay Circle shops.

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The Scoop on Sponsors – Carthay Circle Shops

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The shops at the end of Buena Vista Street can also be accessed via Carthay Circle. Among the locations inside the Elysian Arcade is Clarabelle’s Ice Cream. The shop sign is lovely and fitting for the era. The name harks back to Clarabelle the Cow, a character that appeared in Disney’s early Mickey Mouse shorts.

A small logo under the sign, however (and a bigger one inside the shop) indicates that the ice cream is Dreyer’s brand. I understand the need for corporate sponsors and product suppliers, but Disney has done such a bang-up job with the 1920s-era theme that it is disconcerting to have the modern-day logo interrupt the flow. Nitpicky? Perhaps, but the contrast is quite jarring.

Next up: A Caramel Macchiato Espresso — in the 1920s?- Starbucks at Disney California Adventure.

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A Caramel Macchiato Espresso — in the 1920s? – Starbucks at Carthay Circle

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Disney has made much about the fact that it now includes a Starbucks inside one of its parks. Coffee and tea drinks form the ubiquitous chain are available inside the Fiddler, Fifer & Practical Cafe, a quick-service restaurant at Carthay Circle. The name refers to the names of the Three Little Pigs that appeared in one of Disney’s early cartoons.

Again, it irks me that Disney has disrupted its otherwise pristine theme with an anachronistic reference. Granted, the shop does not look like a Starbucks, but the name outside the cafe is intrusive, and the menu board inside is even more glaring. And really, does the world need another place to buy pretentious, overpriced coffee? Aren’t we supposed to escape the mundane present once we enter a theme park?

The cafe includes non-Starbucks sandwiches and soups. It seems to me that if Disney wanted to feature caffeinated products, it could have fashioned a period coffee shop with vintage urns and perhaps paired it with a bakery.

Next up: Have You Heard the News? – The Red Car News Boys perform.

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Have You Heard the News? – The Red Car News Boys Perform

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A few times a day, one of the Red Car Trolleys pulls up Hollywood Boulevard with a train full of Newsies-style singing news boys. The trolley stops at Carthay Circle, and the performers take to the streets.

It’s a typical over-caffeinated, saccharine-sweet Disney show. Not that it matters much, but I don’t think the singing troupe of News Boys I saw were actually all “boys.” Nor am I certain that they were all “singing.” The harmonies seemed a little too close and perfect.

The show includes period songs (and some from the wrong period, such as the circa-1950s “Make ‘Em Laugh”). About halfway through the performance, Mickey Mouse — the kind with the moving eyes and mouth — joins the group to sing about chasing his Hollywood dreams.

Next up: Jazz-Age Jazz – The Five & Dime perform.

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Jazz-Age Jazz – The Five & Dime perform

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Pulling up in a lovely 1920s automobile, the members of the Five & Dime take their instruments onto the street at Carthay Circle and perform a few numbers. The band features a female singer who belts out the tunes. The music was quite good when I saw them, and unlike the Red Car News Boys, the singing seemed genuinely live.

Continue the tour of the park. See Cars Land at Disney California Adventure.