How to fix Epcot?

The photo attached to this post was provided by The Walt Disney Company as part of its press blitz on the “new” Epcot.?It pains me to say it, and not that you asked, but it’s a pretty good representation of all that is wrong with the “old” Epcot, why it’s doubtful it will ever be fixed, and why I will most likely never be asked to work for Disney again.?

The?picture?shows a new photo op area in the center of the park featuring a bronze statue of Walt Disney gazing out at the place he dreamed up. It’s an homage to Walt’s original vision for a Community of Tomorrow – the COT in?Epcot?– and presumably holy ground where guests are supposed to lay offerings of churros and half-eaten baskets of Freedom Fries beside the great altar of Ideas That Did Not Pan Out.?

Yes, there it is. I’ve said it. Epcot, Walt’s ultimate dream and a theme park that’s been in search of itself for decades, doesn’t work and very?likely?never worked...at least not the way it was supposed to, the way Walt wanted it to. And?now, rather than doing what Walt himself might have done –?move?on to something else – Disney seems intent, yet again, on trying to?reboot, retool, refurbish, in short, fix, the hoary old thing. In the process they seem to be avoiding the somewhat obvious alternative of dynamite, bulldozers, and a whole lot of blank paper, scribbled-on notecards, and empty computer screens just waiting for bright new ideas. No, Disney is instead erecting a shrine to the Great One himself, who, ironically, was never afraid of tearing down, starting over, and coming up with something better.?

Some context: I was blown away by EPCOT Center, as it was known back when I first visited in 1988. The scale?was?impressive, the ambition palpable, and the technological?audacity?through the roof. But...even though the fresh young mind of a newbie imagineer was impressed by all that his colleagues had created, the seed of doubt had already been planted. Epcot was marketed as?Disney’s version of a?world’s fair, a showcase of both world culture and the world of ideas, a Bradburyian world of positivism and hope that sought to inspire guests and educate them, not necessarily by pointing out problems, but?by?offering solutions. Disney solutions, as Walt wanted. The park routinely scored?high with adult repeat?visitors?and rather low among the younger crowd. It was amazing, but not always a whole lot of fun.?Also, it?was?big. That schlep from the front gate through Future World to the World Showcase was a very long march. The Seven Seas Lagoon was there because all the land around it had to be elevated so Epcot’s pavilions could rise above Florida’s high water table. The need for elevating dirt left a very big hole, which, in Florida, meant a very big lake. Too?big, as it turns out. While it’s?a great stage for water shows and nighttime spectaculars, the lagoon makes for some very tiring walks and very cranky kids forced to endure them. The fun is often forgotten along the way. (Personal side note: one of my gigs as a?young?nomenclature writer was coming up with a name for the path that would eventually connect the Dolphin and Swan Hotels to a new secondary entrance to the park at the World Showcase. It was a much needed alternate, but created a similar problem: leaving the World Showcase for the Future was just as big a pain as the reverse journey.?None of my names ever stuck, by the way, mostly because John Hench thought “esplanade” was too demanding?on the brains?of Disney guests.)

In my ten years at Imagineering, the question?of “What to do about Epcot?”?came up routinely. Oddly, or perhaps tellingly given the current schemes that have been in the press, the solutions never strayed far from Walt’s original dream. The idea?was somewhat seductive: a permanent world’s fair with the best of international culture, the latest gee-whiz technologies and shiny visions of the world to come. And dinosaurs, of course. And oil tankers sailing the pristine waters of Prince William Sound. Cool. Or was it? Back in the day, world’s fairs were something to look forward to, a big deal. The world in all its funny costumes with all its strange ways and newfangled stuff right on your doorstep! All you had to do was go to Seattle, Knoxville, Vancouver, or?any of?the other lucky cities that?got to host one. My first world’s fair was in Seattle, 1962. The Century 21 expo, as it was called, showed us what it was like to go to the moon, elevated us up to the tippy top of what is still the world’s coolest observation tower, and fed us strange food that my parents would never again?eat. Apart from the food business, all well and good.?

The trouble is, the world’s a different place now. In 1962, it was genuinely difficult to get a glimpse of some of the things a world’s fair could show you. A subscription to National Geographic Magazine might offer?a peek at exotic world cultures?through the eyes of barely-concealed colonial attitudes toward such,?and every now and then you could catch a TV documentary on some exciting new technology that was going to change the world. I recall Ray Bradbury himself, sometime in the mid-1970s, walking around Los Angeles wearing a wrist-phone operating on something called a cellular network.?It was coming soon, Ray gushed!?World fairs let you actually?experience?some of what magazines or TV shows could only show you. Now,?of course,?things are different. First off, the pace with which the cool new technologies go from drawing board to working product has been ridiculously accelerated.?No more waiting!?But secondly, and more importantly, all those new ideas, as well as all those exotic cultures from around the globe, are now quite literally in the palm of your hand. To heck with waiting a month for the new Nat Geo to arrive, I can see naked pygmies at the click of a button! What’s that I hear about a symphony of gravity waves picked up by analyzing variations in neutron star pulses on opposite sides of the galaxy? Tappity tap...oh, wow! Sure, I can’t actually get my hands on any of that (not that doing so with a naked pygmy would?be?in any way appropriate), but it’s?there, instantly,?to explore to any depth I want whenever I want. The internet delivered the world but killed the world’s fair. What passes for such these days are more about political and corporate sloganeering and product placement than anything resembling the old expositions. They’re trade shows with a little schmear of culture on top.??

So, wouldn’t that make a permanent world’s fair,?like the good old fairs – like Epcot –?more appealing? Well, no.?The point is, we’re overloaded with opportunities to explore new ideas and cultures. I can watch in real time as a helicopter 40 million miles away hops around on the freaking planet Mars! I can wander among Greek ruins and instantly immerse myself in accurate archaeological reconstructions of the cities they once were, all while sitting on my couch with my dog on my lap. And, sorry mom and dad, but I can order all the kung pao chicken I want and have it delivered right to my door!?Now wouldn’t?it be cool to actually?be?on Mars or walking around those ruins for real or having some delicious kung pao chicken in a wonderful little?street cafe in Taipei? Oh, heck?yeah! But, guess what? That’s not Epcot. It never was.?Epcot did have scale and Disney resources going for it, and the long marches notwithstanding, seeing the surface of Mars out the window of a simulated spaceship (ignoring the guest barfing in the seat next to you), or wandering a bazaar in Marrakesh and actually smelling the leather goods on display while watching some guy hammer away at a bronze pot, is pretty darn cool.?But the trouble is, right behind that guy is a churro cart. And behind that?is a line of sweaty tourists queuing up for the water taxi to Future World, a mere 20 minute wait that sure beats the heck out of walking. As my friend and fellow themed entertainment professional, Greg Andrade notes about the World Showcase in particular, each Epcot “land” is but a “one sided single edge condition environment lacking the immersive quality of ‘Place.’” Take a few steps to one side, and you’re out of that place. No amount of tinkering with nomenclature is going to change that?or turn a Land Pavilion into Batuu, just as no added landscaping or shade structures or?oddly anachronistic?IP implants or shrines to Walt Disney?are?going to change the fundamental outdatedness of?the whole concept. The original model just doesn’t work.?

And here’s the deal. Disney has always known this. That’s why the question,?“How do we fix Epcot?” keeps?coming up, year after year. The trouble is,?those who are asking it yet again aren’t being fundamentally honest with themselves about potential answers. They cling to that “original dream” of Walt Disney as if it were holy writ. The latest solution even includes the holy ground to go with the holy writ.?Walt Aeterna.?As Marty Sklar, former head of Imagineering and the quintessential Walt Disney acolyte himself once said at an employee forum in Glendale, California, “We know more about theme parks than Walt ever did.” He was right.?If only?The Walt?Disney?Co.?would pay attention.?For the simple truth is, Epcot, in today’s world, is not a good idea. Maybe it never was, but that’s beside the point. It was built. It is. Disney can’t change that. But it can do something about it now. Think of the possibilities. It’s huge. The World Showcase and that lagoon by themselves could fit the entirety of Disneyland within their boundaries.

Sure, there’s a lot of investment already in place, but the write-off for attractions is typically 30 years. Most of ‘em are well past their expiration date.?Would it be expensive? Of course it would be expensive. What isn’t? But think of the return. A whole new Disney park,?filled with?new?Disney heroes and?new Disney villains of every shape and color,?on Disney property, surrounded by Disney hotels. A park with no restrictions, unhampered by outdated visions of inspiring or educating or doing?anything?but?entertaining?a new generation of guests, guests who are very different from the ones who first set foot in EPCOT Center.?

I cannot help but think Walt, far from nodding appreciatively at his shiny bronze memorial, wouldn’t instead be muttering – with an occasional cough – “Pass the TNT boys and girls. Let’s get on with it.”