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The Party's Over (continued)
Pleasure Island was never kid-friendly to begin with. The official backstory
of the area has to do with the fictional Merriweather Pleasure, a shipping
magnate, enduring a freak storm (you know, the same one that created Typhoon
Lagoon, also in 1989) and then converting his warehouses to clubs. But I'm not
buying it. You don't name the area "Pleasure Island" without assuming people
make a mental association with Pinocchio and the land of sin. The very concept
was to be slightly sinful. Go ahead and cut loose. Drink some alcohol, smoke
some cigars, dance up a storm. It's not what families tend to want to do while
on vacation. The singles and couples are more the desired audience. And Disney
didn't want them wandering off in their rental cars to Downtown.
The idea behind the Hostage Program (er, I mean "Destination Disney" concept)
was to keep people on property, and spending money for Disney rather than anyone
else. The pursuit of "every last dollar" arguably led Disney down the path of
creating a zone for people who were not the target audience of families on
vacation. Ergo, a fundamental disconnect was created, almost like overreaching.
You cannot cater to every last member of your audience without eventually
offending the core audience of families, and that may have been the result here.
The clubs don't have the drawing power of
other downtown spots.
Granted, there were and are some vehement supporters of Pleasure Island. In
particular, the Comedy Warehouse and the Adventurer's Club have some ardent and
increasingly vocal fans. As soon as the news broke, someone instantly cobbled
together an online petition to spare the Adventurer's Club. As of this writing,
it has almost four thousand signatures: http://www.petitiononline.com/wdwaclub.
A Facebook group wasn't long in following.
I'll admit it: I never "got" the Adventurer's Club. I'd be tempted to say
it's a question of being intoxicated to enjoy it, but I've seen it both sober
and drunk, and there's something slightly "off" about the humor that defies
simple explanation, and keeps the viewer at a slight ironic distance (I'd haul
Brecht's Verfremdungseffekt into the discussion, but I don't want to alienate
YOU all, either!) Frankly, the entire affair wasn't out and out funny. It was
more like something you'd enjoy upon repeat visits, more akin to Rocky Horror
Picture Show than a Comedy Improv. It wasn't the performers' fault. They were
first-class, and clearly enjoyed their roles. (I finally learned where the Snig
and Oopla performers from the Hyperspace Hoopla on Star Wars Weekends have their
day job: in Adventurer's Club!)
But the cult-like fervor attached to the comedy sketches transcends normal
appreciation. There's something more here that people are latching on to,
something that I missed. For a while, it reminded me of the frenzy associated
with Maynard, a front-line Cast Member at Disneyland, whose wacky theatrics
earned him a sizeable following among the regulars and repeat visitors, who
waste no time in urging Maynard on toward ever more frantic antics. That's fine
(and often hilarious) for the repeat visitors, but perplexing at best and
off-putting at worst for the infrequent visitors, who have no idea what is going
on. My admittedly-infrequent visits to the Adventurer's Club gave me the same
uncanny feeling, that everyone else is in on a joke that I don't quite get. Part
of me wonders if this is what was on Disney executives' minds as they decided to
shutter the clubs, including this popular one. If it was popular only with the
regulars and repeat visitors, does that mean it's still serving the company's
best interests?
Adventurer's Club is supposed to look
cluttered – Joe Rohde designed it!
If you ask Disney's spokespeople, you'll get a somewhat-related answer. They
say that due to Guest feedback, they are closing the clubs to make the place
more family friendly. On the one hand, this a hoot-inducing lie. Have they truly
and honestly received recent feedback from Guests, 20 years later, that the
facility is in violation of the ethics promulgated elsewhere on property?
On the other hand, though, maybe the publicity department is thinking of
something specific. Do you recall several months ago, when there was a bomb
scare at Pleasure Island? When a couple was robbed in public? When Disney
security ejected several youths for simply loitering and acting gang-like? Even
a few deaths a while back? Perhaps they really do mean it when they say that the
idea is to become more "family friendly", which means no clubs and more
shops/restaurants. I'm not sure I completely disagree. Again, it could be that
the very notion of "nighttime clubs" and "families on vacation" are
incompatible.
OK, I hear you saying, why not drop the dance clubs but keep the comedy
clubs? Let the improv facility and the Adventurer's Club stay there. Do they
imply an anti-family stance? I can understand those plaintive suggestions. And
yet, I don't go to those facilities myself, since I have young kids. It takes a
babysitter and a "date night" before I can make it to those places late at
night. I'm guessing that a majority of visitors to WDW find themselves in
similar straights.
An unassuming exterior, perhaps, but a rabid
following.
Additionally, you would run into the problem of how to price just those two
facilities. Should there be a nominal cover charge to each? These places are not
racking in the money. They are usually partly (or even mostly) empty. Disney is,
after all, a business.
But you could run them only on weekends! comes the cry from the stands, and
indeed that could work. You'd save money on labor costs. Although such a scheme
would leave a functioning building empty five days a week. And contrast that
idea with the notion of a shop that operates seven days a week, with a far
smaller staff, earning lots of money versus just a small amount when averaged
out with combo tickets and annual passes, and you've got a recipe for choosing
the shops over the comedy. Frankly, I'm not sure I'd be able to defend any other
decision myself if I were in their shoes. It would be one thing to "hold the
line" and stand firm for your principles, even if it meant losing money, if the
thing in question were solidly in line with Disney principles. But what if the
concept on the chopping block was NOT in keeping with the core Disney family
audience?
Consider the Adventurer's Club Creed, a set of lyrics sung by a mannequin/animatronic
on the wall:
We climb the highest mountains,
just to get a better view.
We plumb the deepest oceans,
because we're daring through and through.
We cross the scorching desert,
martinis in our hand.
We ski the polar ice caps,
in tuxedos looking grand.
We are reckless, brave, and loyal,
and valiant to the end.
If you come in here a stranger,
you will exit as a friend.
KUNGALOOSH!
I'm not sure that every member of the family will find this gripping stuff.
Martinis? It doesn't help that half the audience is singing along, apparently
having memorized the lyrics from previous visits. I remain, years later,
perplexed and nonplussed by the term "kungaloosh." It's invoked as a kind of
secret handshake among Disney fans. If you know the term, you've been to the
Adventurer's Club and liked it. If not, well, you're not initiated. Must suck to
be you.
Current ticket booths
replaced former rolling stock from the railroad at Fort Wilderness.
Perhaps that alone accounts for the executives' decision to shutter the
comedy clubs as well as the dance clubs. If these facilities are appealing to
only niche audiences (Cast Members, annual passholders, and repeat-though
possibly annual-visitors), then perhaps the space might make more money as a
shop?
Still, I wouldn't want to overstate that case either. It's still a loss of a
distinctive and unique form of Disney entertainment, and thus a Decline by
Degrees. Heck, right here in PI we used to have the XZFR Rockin' Rollerdome--a
roller skating facility, of all things! Things change, and increasingly these
days, they Decline.
As a premium annual passholder, I'm entitled to a round of golf to make up
for the loss of the clubs I've already paid (fractionally) for. Well, I don't
golf. So in my case, the loss, whether slight or enormous (depending on your
viewpoint) represents pure subtraction from my experiences on property.
Who knows if the name will even remain?
It's true that we may end up with a more homogenous, perhaps even harmonious
family-designed experience across all of Downtown Disney as a result. That won't
necessarily be negative, particularly if tourists seem to be seeking only a
family atmosphere at the Disney property. On balance, I'm not ready yet to
either condemn or to condone the Pleasure Island Conundrum. If you forced me to
make a decision, I suppose I'd lean toward recognizing that the loss of
distinctive entertainment really is a Decline. The Adventurer's Club may not
have been my cup of tea, but I recognize that I'm not the definitive voice among
Disney fans, and this may simply be one of those times when other folks are
seeing something I'm not. |
