Disney Animation Immersive Experience - Drew Rowsome
Disney Animation Immersive Experience: the circle of life writ large 28 Dec 2022
by Drew Rowsome- photos supplied by publicist
A disembodied but official voice intones, "Please make your way into the Disney animation vault." Sure enough, at the far end of the museum/exhibit, which itself is the far end of a gift shop, is a large circular hole in the wall. Propped open beside it is an oversized replica of a bank's safe's door, one that is emblazoned with the omnipresent mouse ears. Through the circle and down a short winding dark passage, with the walls featuring inspirational Disney quotes, one enters what, for lack of a better word, is a massive library antechamber. Massive. The scale is as awe-inspiring as the detail. Yes, there are enough books to satisfy one's inner Belle, but the walls soaring high above are also emblazoned with frames that contain photos, some of which occasionally flicker into animated life. It registers that this is a projected illusion, but the sheer scale makes it jaw-dropping.
And that is before even entering the main Disney Animation Immersive Experience event space.
Before I continue, for reasons that will become obvious, I have to put my reactions into a personal context. I grew up immersed in Disney. All of the films, books, swag and television programs, were eagerly anticipated and consumed. And for a good chunk of my life, believed in ardently. Disneyland and Disney World were meccas. And they didn't disappoint, not in childhood, not in adolescence, not in adulthood. The magic was, is, real. Even the glimmers of the machinations behind the magic, its crass commercial underpinnings and gossipy secrets, only add to the allure. I've never had a problem accessing my inner child, and Disney products are a quick shortcut to a sense of wonder. I want to believe. So while the "Disney animation vault" is a wonderful tangible gimmick, my awareness that it also refers to the marketing campaign that sold re-releases, video cassettes, DVDS and now Disney+, does nothing to diminish the visceral effect.
The Disney Animation Immersive Experience space is as equally impressive as the antechamber. The walls are several stories tall and the pre-show projections are crammed with intricate details that are absorbing and fascinating. It is a salute, continued from the museum, to the animators. Demonstrating not only how squiggles can become seemingly flesh and blood, but how the details of the backgrounds and characterization are crucial. The carpeted floor responds to footsteps with swirls of glittering light that echo movement. I find a seat on a bench and sit amidst spinning ripples of fairy dust. The lights go down and, after a brief introduction from the mouse himself who exhorts us to "believe," the sun rises in Africa and the "Circle of Life" from The Lion King fills the air. It is incredible. The walls are full of animals, flocks of birds, towering giraffes, chittering marakeets, and advancing elephants so huge that it feels as if they will crush us beneath their feet. It is immersive and soul-stirring.
Unfortunately, location proves to be everything. From where I am sitting, the central projection is slightly off-center and the parts of the wall that are not absolutely smooth fragment the image. I switch my seating to the opposite wall and it is much better. But one flaw becomes obvious. There is a reliance on a central screen with the rest of the room providing additional material. It becomes, on occasion, an inflated IMAX experience or minor Disney World dark ride. Fortunately that is not always the case. The Encanto "We Don't Talk About Bruno" segment fills the walls and floors with flowers and rhythm, we journey to Zootopia, we travel under the sea with bubbles literally surrounding, we soar with Aladdin and Jasmine across the skies. And of course, Frozen engulfs us in snow. The need for a central screen becomes obvious when the animation created using a computer is crisp and sharp, while the older animation has soft edges and jerky movement. It is a shame, as the museum has primed us for the glory of the older animation—the museum is actually a highlight with revelatory information on the artform and an actual, breathtaking, set of the glass plates used to film Pinocchio—but most of the big set pieces are from the later years.
This is also where context comes into play. While I might be a major Disney animation fan, I haven't seen everything. A gorgeous segment involving candles is meaningless to me aside from its sheer beauty. Googling after, with a chameleon as a clue, it was revealed to be from Tangled which I have not seen. Yet mere steps away was a twenty-something man who was mouthing every word while performing elaborate Celine-worthy choreography, with tears streaming down his face. Rocketing through the night sky with Big Hero 6 was visually exciting but emotionally it took Dumbo making a brief appearance to move me. The big finale was a number from Frozen 2 of which I am also woefully ignorant, but several of the children twirled with wild abandon and delight. If it had of been "Let It Go," I would have joined them. But the creators of Disney Animation Immersive Experience are canny, mostly avoiding the obvious and frequently creating links between disparate films, something for everyone, emphasizing the entire catalogue.
Again in a personal context, I found that the magnificent Disney villains got short shift. When Ursula sang and Maleficent cackled, there was a connection to that feeling of magic in the dark that the Disney princesses just can't conjure. I kept waiting for "A Night on Bald Mountain" and for Chernabog to terrorize the room but, alas, that particularly welcome Disney cliché was not to be. I am fervently fantasizing that the producers at Lighthouse Immersive are working on a Halloween/horror immersive. Ichabod Crane could hurl flaming pumpkins around the room while pumpkin spice aroma is pumped in, and, seriously, Ursula could barely be contained, even in that ginormous space. She deserves to strut her stuff without competition from ballads that aren't ubiquitous. With each immersive experience (Illusionarium, Touch, Immersive Frida Kahlo) the technology and artistry grows stronger and more compelling. Combining it with the slick marketing and production savvy, the emotion-tugging and nostalgic archives, of the Disney corporation, and Disney Animation Immersive Experience is another leap forward. And my inner child is very happy.
Disney Animation Immersive Experience continues at Lighthouse Artspace, 1 Yonge St. disneyimmersive.com