The Complete Canonical List of the Best Animated Film Tie-Ins Ever – Part 3

Well now. That was an adventure, wasn’t it?

Things couldn’t be better than they are, here in the fabulous 2010s.

Parkeology hit the global media market in a big way. Our faces were on seemingly every TV channel in the country. A guy named John Cameron Swayze gave us all the news. A lot of singing and fluff, but it’s fun.

Major newspapers from London to New York carried articles on us, and the Parkeology exploits traveled from New York to Los Angeles in less than seven days.

And I even hear tell of some brothers from North Carolina who are working on some kind of WDW48-ride-vehicle-contraption. Heh heh. It’ll never work.

Yes, we’ve got all the latest inventions. Twitter accounts, Youtube videos, Facebook pages. And some kind of innate ability for news media to use the worst screen grabs of our faces ever. They are also mildly obsessed with calling us “middle-aged.” That may be true of Ted, but this parkeologist is still just a youngster, don’t you know.

And now I’m mixing up animatronic stage show quotes.

Anyway, thanks to all the new riders who found/followed/subscribed to us on that whirlwind journey that was WDW46, and a warm welcome back to those of you who made it. And a friendly word of warning, one you won’t find in any guidebook:

What we do 99% of the time on parkeology has nothing to do with outrageously stupid theme park quests, and mostly has to do with obsessing over the obscure, incredible, intricate details of the parks. In fact, we were in the middle of a series of articles on the greatest theme park tie-ins to the official canonical list of Disney animated features. We may have been detoured (“Brakes? Brakes! Where are the brakes?”) but it’s time to dive back in. Journey with us now, to the dawn of recorded time. Or at least to the dark ages of animated films.

We welcome you, to the 1980s. We welcome you… to SeaBase Alpha.

#29 – The Rescuers Down Under

Oh good grief. What a way to start. This somewhat forgotten sequel (actually from 1990) to the somewhat forgotten original Rescuers film never really had a chance to blossom in the parks. The pickings are slim, my friends.

Bernard and Bianca appeared as walk-around characters (and still very rarely do, though mostly in Tokyo). But they are usually more evocative of the 1970s original film then of this sequel.

The film is not terrible, and some of the animation montages will include it. Marahute the golden eagle will often get a brief clip during any “You Can Fly” number from the various animation attractions.

However, the best park tie-in to emerge from the Rescuers Down Under is actually at Epcot in Future World.

Sound strange? It is, but that glorious Future World fountain has an entire sequence choreographed to the Rescuers Down Under opening credits music.

That sounds noble. It does. But also, we must remember that the Future World fountain also has an entire sequence choreographed to music from the 1994 dogsledding movie Iron Will. So do with that what you will.

So when do we get some water dancing set to the stirring music of the Journey of Natty Gann?

So when do we get some water dancing set to the stirring music of the Journey of Natty Gann?

Photo by Express Monorail

#28 – The Little Mermaid

The one that started the renaissance. The second golden age really began with the Little Mermaid, which caught audiences by storm in 1989 and ushered in a new dawn of Disney cartoon musicals.

And yet somehow it took them more than decade to build a ride after it.

Little Mermaid got the standard 90s treatment: Stage shows and parade performances. At Walt Disney World, she also managed to carve out part of the defunct sub lagoon for a greeting area called Ariel’s Grotto. Scuttles the seagull also became the proprietor of a snack stand next to Dumbo.

Voyage of the Little Mermaid opened at Disney MGM Studios, a decent black-light puppet and live actor stage show, and of course the music turned up everywhere, from Spectromagic to Fantasmic.

It was not until the opening of Tokyo DisneySea in 2001 when Little Mermaid finally got serious theme park attention. The film is the basis for the entire themed land of Mermaid Lagoon, housed almost entirely indoors. Unfortunately, the attractions in Mermaid Lagoon are of the off-the-shelf type. There’s Flounder’s Flying Fish coaster (kiddie coaster), a Jumpin’ Jellyfish parachute drop, some sort of seashell version of the teacups.

It also had a rather artistic live show, with Ariel on arials — wires that would make the live performer seem to float through the ocean.

Then a decade later, Disney’s California Adventure added the first full-length dark ride based on the movie. It was billed as a major E-ticket, and ended up being a solid D-ticket. Disney World cloned it into New Fantasyland, and added a breathtaking show building on top of it, and that, my friends, is probably the best park tie-in.

Prince Eric’s castle and the surrounding rockwork and grottos are some of the Magic Kingdom’s most beautiful sights, and the ride is easily on par with the classic Fantasyland dark rides (and usually longer).

After losing the 20K Lagoon, it's amazing that we finally get to see something this beautiful again.

After losing the 20K Lagoon, it’s amazing that we finally get to see something this beautiful again.

Photo by Scott Smith

#27 – Oliver and Company

The one that did NOT start the renaissance. I recently re-watched this “classic” and I can safely say that it’s hard to see them making the jump from this to Little Mermaid. Oliver is cringe-inducing and pandering.

It’s easy to see why it never really found a home in the parks. The characters are all dogs and cats, so walk-arounds are difficult. The film got a few token clips in various montages (Dodger in particular shows up in one of the bubbles during the Florida version of Fantasmic).

If I’m going to be forced to pick something, I’m going to go off the reservation and choose a segment from the Grand Opening of the Disney MGM Studios. I had this special on grainy VHS and watched it over and over and over (John Ritter is hilarious). One of the selling points of the new park was that the New Mickey Mouse Club was filmed there, and the Mouseketeers are featured in the Grand Opening at the 17:35 mark, performing “Why Should I Worry?” from Oliver and Company. I’m not sure if Christina, Justin, and Brittany are in this cast, but they might be. It won’t make the number any better.

#26 – The Great Mouse Detective

Uh-oh. I’m, uh, not sure what to do with this one. I actually like the movie much better than Oliver and Company, but this is apparently during Disney’s “classic English literature character done with animals” phase, and references to the Great Mouse Detective are few and far between in the parks.

You would think that Ratigan, one of the most bombastic villains, would have made a great walk around character, and I think maybe he was around briefly (but only very, very briefly).

Okay, I wasn’t going to use this one unless I absolutely have to, because it’s basically just an image of the characters. But as images go, it’s a legendary one.

I’m referring to the Bill Justice character mural that once graced the wall outside the Walt Disney Story at the Magic Kingdom. This one was truly amazing, with lots of obscure characters. This mural for the longest time was actually one of the greatest relics of the modern parkeology era. The Walt Disney Story closed decades ago, but the mural remained, hidden deep inside the old theater, and was often considered a backstage area. Stumbling across it as I did after so many years of forgetting all about it was one of the happier days of my early parkeological career (this was before the blog existed).

Sadly, the mural is no more. But it is of significance to the Great Mouse Detective, because characters from that movie were the last to be added to the mural. None of the other recent characters from Little Mermaid and beyond were ever included.

#25 – The Black Cauldron

I am not going to lie. The Black Cauldron is, to me, the single worst animated film Disney has ever produced. It is an incoherent mess of a story, almost completely without any redeeming factor. I can count on one hand the number of readers who can name 3 characters from it. I’ll even spot you Gurgi and the Horned King.

Personal anecdote: The Black Cauldron was released in 1985. It is to my great shame that my stupid, Disney-can-do-no-wrong self proclaimed it better than the other big movie that came out around the same time, which starred Michael J. Fox and a time-travelling DeLorean. Rating the Black Cauldron higher than that masterpiece is one of my life’s biggest regrets.

Having said that, Black Cauldron actually managed to snag itself a snack stand at Magic Kingdom. Gurgi’s Munchies and Crunchies is still around — well, the venue is, though it has changed names about a hundred times since then. Now it’s called The Friar’s Nook. It’s in Fantasyland. It’s forgettable.

But as is sometimes the case with fate’s weird sense of humor, the worst film on the entire list also gets one of the most delightfully obscure major attraction tie-ins (at least to American audiences).

The Cinderella Castle Mystery Tour at Tokyo Disneyland was an odd walk-through thing that ran from the mid-80s to 2006. It has one of those “Villains Hijack the Proceedings” plots, and culminates in an encounter with the Horned King and the Black Cauldron. Seriously, somebody in Tokyo thought the Black Cauldron deserved a rather elaborate finale in a mid-level attraction.

If I could go back in time and experience any lost Disney attraction on the planet...

If I could go back in time and experience any lost Disney attraction on the planet…

Say what you want about my middle-aged co-parkeologist Ted, but he will always be the only friend I personally know who has been chosen to wield the Sword of Light against the Horned King, and received the awesome medal reward from the cast members. I’m not joking, it’s like a big production or something.

He claims it’s because the Japanese always pick goofy white guys as the “volunteer.” Clearly they have seen our WDW46 screengrabs.

#24 – The Fox and the Hound

Another awful movie from the 80s, which is even more pandering than Oliver and Company, if that is possible.

The main characters are a fox and a hound. Go figure. No character greeting areas then.

I’m going to choose the ultimate cop-out and go with an Emporium window display at Disneyland. The less said about this movie, the better.

Off-Model and shrouded in darkness... sounds about right.

Off-Model and shrouded in darkness… sounds about right.

Photo by Castles, Capes, and Clones

#23 – The Rescuers

Suddenly we’re in the groovy 70s! The year is 1977. Star Wars is still in theaters. Bell bottoms are all the rage. And this pandering (imagine that) story about 2 mice rescuing an orphan explodes onto the world theme park stage.

Okay, no it doesn’t. The Rescuers got the aforementioned walkaround of Bernard and Bianca, and even had Orville the Albatross and Evinrude the dragonfly, as seen in this beautifully vintage picture.

#22 – The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

Finally. After a lot of dreck, we’ve arrived back at a good movie. This movie was a sort of anthology, combining a few different Winnie the Pooh featurettes as one movie, but it strikes the perfect note and is one of the truly enduring Disney classic movies.

Pooh is one of those few Disney characters that has universal recognition and appeal. Much like Mickey and the gang, he is a pervasive character in the parks, and practically owns the merchandise shelves (though he has given some ground to princesses in recent years).

Pooh’s walk-around character has undergone a few changes over the years (the oddest example was when he had a honey pot on his head). And of course his supporting cast (Tigger, Eeyore, Piglet, etc.) are just as popular.

Winnie the Pooh even ran for President in 1972 and 1976. This included daily campaign parades at Disneyland a stage show of sorts. It’s unclear why Disney thought Pooh made the best candidate from their repertoire of characters, but if anyone could be considered incorruptible, it is Pooh Bear.

But in terms of major attractions, it took a long time before Winnie the Pooh finally came into his own. Unfortunately, it was at the expense of beloved Mr. Toad. In the late 90s, Pooh evicted J. Thaddeus Toad for his own ride at the Magic Kingdom, named with the exact same title as his movie. Though Toad proponents rightfully mourn the loss of the Wild Ride, it should be noted that the Pooh ride is very well done, and deserves its place in Fantasyland — especially with its more intricate queue that was added only a few years ago.

Pooh then made his way to Disneyland, where he again managed to stick his foot in the proverbial honey pot by evicting another classic attraction in the Country Bear Jamboree. The Disneyland ride is very similar to Florida’s version, perhaps a tad worse.

But the piece de resistance came when Pooh’s Hunny Hunt was added to Tokyo Disneyland. Here is an absolutely breathtaking E-ticket level ride for families that is a marvel of technological engineering and oozing with charm.

It is clearly the best version of a Pooh ride anywhere, and among the best attractions in the entire world.

#21 – Robin Hood

Here we go again, English lit characters as animals. At least this time, they are anthropomorphic animals, which is actually a pretty unique way to tackle the Robin Hood story.

Though time has illuminated me of its flaws, Robin Hood was for the longest time my favorite animated film, and the fox himself remains my favorite Disney character.

Unfortunately, Robin Hood has never really had much of a presence in the parks, except as a walk-around character. It is to the filmmakers’ credit, however, that the characters are so magnificently rendered. Robin Hood, the Sherriff of Nottingham, and to a lesser extent Friar Tuck and Prince John still frequently make appearances in the parks.

They never got an attraction or even so much as a popsicle stand, but the characters are still there.

The debonair Robin Hood, looking decidedly more double-chinned than I remember.

The debonair Robin Hood, looking decidedly more double-chinned than I remember.

Photo by Jeff Christiansen

#20 – The Aristocats

The last film in today’s segment. As the saying goes, in with a whimper, out with a …whimper. Aristocats is not a terrible film, but it is somewhat weak. There were a few different gift shops called The AristoCats at various Magic Kingdom-style parks at one time or another, but the move never had a major presence.

Until recently.

Somehow modern audiences have rediscovered the character of Marie, the feisty little white kitten who is basically a bit player in the movie. All of the kittens in the film are cute, but Marie has come out of nowhere and now her merchandise is everywhere. I blame the Japanese. You just know this started with them.

A lot of the Aristocats (including all three kittens and some of the weird cats from the Scat Cat band) have appeared at some point as walkaround characters, but Marie is the only one who appears regularly today.

She is often found on Town Square at the Magic Kingdom, and has been seen in France at Epcot as well, and at other parks worldwide.

Cross-eyed French kitten of the 70s!

Cross-eyed French kitten of the 70s!

Photo by Castles, Capes, and Clones

Summary

The 70s and 80s were not exactly Disney’s best time period for animation, though there are a few gems in there (Winnie the Pooh and Little Mermaid). Most of the stories are forgettable at best, and nearly unwatchable at worst. It’s no wonder most of these never panned out with major park tie-ins.

But some great films in the 50s and 60s are just around the corner…

 

Five Windows Into Rides

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. I’m sure this must be true. I like to imagine my soul looking out on the world through the twin portholes above my nose in the corner penthouse of my head. I draw the drapes when it’s bedtime. Install hurricane shutters whenever I’m working with power tools. Hire little guys in white uniforms to dangle from my forehead and give my eyes a good cleaning with a saline rinse and a squeegee every so often, as if I am a giant walking skyscraper who likes to run metaphors into the ground.

If Disney World has a soul, it has to be the classic attractions. More specifically, the rides. We love the rides. They are the reason we go. Disney thinks we go because of the dining and the golf or whatever, but no, it’s the rides.

We call things rides that aren’t even rides (“Next let’s go ride Hall of Presidents”). We have favorite rides, best parts of rides, memories of past rides (Mansion, the catapult launch, two-track Toad).

We’ve turned the concept of the ride into something to be conquered. “I rode the Tea Cups twelve times!” or “These idiots are trying to ride all 47 rides at WDW in a single day!” (well, I guess it’s 46 now. Thanks for nothing, Maelstrom and Backlot Tour).

Rides have a mystique about them. You line up, you get in the car, and then your adventure into the movies is about to begin. You careen around in darkness or through amazing landscapes. You grip the safety harness through the high-speed loop. Scream when the witch pops out. Laugh at the goat with the stick of dynamite.

Sometimes we just soak it all in — the sounds of the Smuggler’s Cave, that herd of wildebeest on the hill, Michael Eisner hitting a golf ball. Rides by their very definition transport us.

And then we’re back to the most dangerous part of our journey: The return to civilization and my attempt to dock this boat.

Rides are active: Stow your belongings in the underseat compartment. Step carefully onto the moving walkway. Pull on the yellow strap, but do NOT pull down on the safety bar, please. I will lower that for you.

Rides are so cool, that there are rides within Disney World whose primary appeal is to look in on other rides. If eyes are the window to the soul, then these five windows provide some of the best glimpses of the soul of Walt Disney World. It’s a chance to observe a ride in its natural habitat — not staged observation decks, but almost hidden peepholes. Many times, the people on the ride don’t even know they’re being watched. We get a kick out of it.

And that’s what makes these windows almost as popular as the bananas growing on both sides of the boat.

San Angel Inn Waterfront

There’s no actual pane of glass, no etched opening that would denote a literal window. But the diners at the San Angel Inn in Epcot’s Mexico pavilion are practically a show scene all unto themselves for the Gran Fiesta Tour.

As the boat leaves the loading zone, it travels into the Mexican night, winding its way past an ancient pyramid on the left, heading for a tunnel into the jungle. On the right is a festive Mexican village, with a restaurant right on the waterfront. The lighting is dim (it is night, after all), and the tables are far enough away that everything is shrouded in shadow. But those are real people eating lunch, and if they have the prime tables, they spend a lot of time watching the boats go by.

Nothing helps you work up an appetite like a temple of human sacrifice.

Nothing helps you work up an appetite like a temple of human sacrifice.

The idea is not original to Epcot. Disneyland was doing this with the Blue Bayou and Pirates of the Caribbean for more than a decade before Mexico opened (the original boat ride was called El Rio del Tiempo). But it is just as effective in Mexico as it is in New Orleans Square. Unlike Pirates of the Caribbean, where the most exciting show scenes are tucked away beyond the waterfalls, San Angel Inn diners are treated to the very best scene of the Gran Fiesta Tour. The pyramid is a masterpiece, and the quiet boats and distant drums perfectly set the stage for an exotic meal. They got lucky. A table overlooking Donald Duck’s cliff-diving scene probably wouldn’t have the same allure.

Walt Disney World Railroad Through Splash Mountain

Here we have a true window. As the train nears its Frontierland Station, it passes into a tunnel through the heart of Splash Mountain, and on the right, the wall opens up to reveal a glimpse down into the Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah finale of the log ride.

This is one of those cases where the casual rider is unaware that another ride might be passing through just overhead. You can technically see the railroad from the boats if you’re looking for it, but most people aren’t. They’re watching those singing chickens and the pig playing piano.

Unlike the San Angel Inn viewing, which shows you the start of the ride, this one shows you the end. Maybe the train needs some narration with a spoiler alert. This isn’t a lingering glimpse of Splash Mountain, since the train is moving, but it does provide an intriguing vantage point that the riders in the boats don’t get of the scene.

It’s also as close as Walt Disney World gets to having something like the Grand Canyon Diorama or Primeval World out at Disneyland. It’s presented in a very similar fashion, with large panes of glass on one side of the train–though the glimpse is way more abbreviated.

PeopleMover Through Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin and Space Mountain

The PeopleMover is a ride that almost seems to have no purpose other than to showcase other rides. You’re circling the rooftops of the Tomorrowland, with the narration calling out the Carousel of Progress, the Laugh Floor, X-S Tech (oh wait). You do get a nice overhead look out at the Tomorrowland Speedway, but the highlight of the ride is when it bisects straight through the heart of Space Mountain.

The rollercoaster’s twin tracks flank the People Mover during the initial ascent. The rockets are pointed up, cranking past the satellite prop and the control tower, while the PeopleMover continues on its steady path. Occasionally, a rocket will careen by much closer to the TTA track. The image of passing through Space Mountain is so iconic that guide books continue to recommend first-time-Mountain-riders take a ride on the TTA first, to see if they think they can handle the thrills.

Stormtrooper 1: Do you know what's going on? Stormtrooper 2: Maybe it's another drill.

Stormtrooper 1: Do you know what’s going on?
Stormtrooper 2: Maybe it’s another drill.

While Space Mountain is probably the highlight of the PeopleMover, it’s not finished offering up other windows. As it heads out of Space Mountain and around the Carousel of Progress, it gives a nice backdoor glimpse into sections of Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin.

This is another prime example of people on the ride being totally unaware that they are being watched. The view from the PeopleMover into the Buzz Lightyear panorama is actually much more appealing than the ride-level view, since you can see the scope of the alien landscape more clearly (down inside the ride, it just looks like mass confusion).

Ah, the very picture of clarity.

Ah, the very picture of clarity.

And something I’ve always been fascinated by are the rotating Z targets visible right outside the PeopleMover window–and which are often completely ignored in the ride itself. I always thought Disney should make those targets worth more.

The Garden Grill Rotates Past Scenes from Living With the Land

This is another Epcot dining experience, but unlike Mexico, the guests on Living With the Land are likely oblivious to the restaurant watching them like a great eye in the sky.

Busy as always.

Busy as always.

The Garden Grill is basically a giant lazy susan, slowly rotating throughout your meal. Beneath it, the canopied boats pass through dry deserts, humid rain forests, windy prairies. Eventually the boats veer off on their own course through the greenhouses, but diners in the Garden Grill are treated to the best themed parts of the ride, and at a leisurely pace.

It's like an episode of the Truman Show.

It’s like an episode of the Truman Show.

As an aside, remember when the Garden Grill was called The Good Turn? That name made much more sense, since it evoked the restaurant’s most distinctive feature. The Garden Grill just sounds bland (what do you grill from a garden anyway?)

Pinocchio Village Haus Overlooks It’s a Small World

Now my favorite window, which isn’t exactly hidden. It’s plainly visible from Small World as your boat exits the loading dock. Just a few panels of glass, behind which you’ll often see diners at Pinocchio Village Haus looking down at you.

They should offer FastPass for these tables.

They should offer FastPass for these tables.

In some respects, my favorite window is also the most bland. No Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah finale, no laser targets or blasting spaceships. Not even a stoic mayan pyramid. Just brightly colored boats in a brightly lit loading zone, setting sail on the Happiest Cruise That Ever Sailed.

So bright. So happy.

So bright. So happy.

I think my fondness for this window stems from childhood. Pinocchio Village Haus was the go-to restaurant of choice for my family–usually in the later hours of evening, when the sky had turned dark and the Magic Kingdom was twinkling with a thousand tiny lights. The Village Haus is a large restaurant, but only a few tables have this view. Here my brother and sisters and I could stare down at the ride beginning happily below us, take note of the short evening line, and get excited that while it might be dark now, the day wasn’t over yet.

That’s the power of rides.

 

3 Delightfully Low-Tech Effects in It’s A Small World

The complexity of modern theme park rides is sometimes beyond comprehension. Imagine a ride like Test Track, which must cycle through a consistent, steady stream of vehicles, across a ride track that is constantly changing speeds throughout. It famously took them months to get the kinks worked out.

The same with Indiana Jones Adventure, which not only varies its speed, but sticks a motion simulator on top of a moving platform, and then randomizes everything for good measure. The Gringotts coaster at Universal has the same challenges on a massive scale, moving vehicles running every which way, synchronized to film elements.

All it takes is one little hiccup and everything grinds to a halt. The computing power on each individual ride-thru probably involves more calculations than the first moon voyage. And while I love that theme parks continue to push the threshold for effects that can be safely repeated for millions of guests, year after year, I confess I have a soft spot for ride gimmicks that are both exceedingly clever and exceedingly simple.

The Pepper’s Ghost effect in Haunted Mansion may be the most well known. It’s about as simple as you can get — but so extraordinarily effective, almost as if the reflective properties of glass exist for no other reason than to portray ghosts in theme parks.

It’s a Small World turns 50 this year, and while no one thinks of anything in that ride as being high-tech, there are some integral parts of the attraction which actually required some clever mechanical gadgets to pull off. The beauty of these things is that you aren’t even aware of there being a gadget. It’s just part of the scenery that you take for granted. The other cool bit is that since these things are so mechanically simple, they don’t require an atmosphere-controlled data center with a rack of high-speed servers to keep the whole ride from going 101. They just work, baby.

Here are three of my favorites

Spinning and Dipping Magic Carpets

You see multiple versions of these throughout the ride, but the “Asia” room is probably the most obvious. As you float past the Taj Mahal and that weird multi-limbed shadow puppet lady, magic carpets circle over head, while simultaneously rising and falling like galloping horses.

The circling part is easy. It’s just a turntable with cables suspended it from it. It’s easy to take the dipping for granted, but how exactly do they pull that off? Maybe some motors to individually raise and lower each carpet. Motors aren’t exactly high-tech, but there are four carpets on each each turntable, so that’s four motors that might potentially break down. And what if they aren’t synchronized perfectly? Then you have carpets that don’t seem to smoothly follow the same path.

But fortunately the Imagineers came up with an ingeniously simple solution. There’s a little arm up there mounted under the turntable, which turns in the opposite direction. The noses of the carpets are tethered not to the turntable, but to the arm, which continuously shortens and lengthens the various cables by virtue of its offset axis. It keeps the carpets in perfect synchronicity and gives them the undulating motion of a ride on an invisible rollercoaster. It’s a few moving parts, some pulleys, and some cable. Low tech, low maintenance, perfect motion.

A Whole New World

A Whole New World

 One Blazing Sun

There is just one moon and one golden sun, which we have already exposed as being a complete falsehood. But one of my favorite effects is the sun in the South America room, which might also be Mexico, even though that is in North America, but Small World geography never bothered me much.

This sun is actually one of the few dynamic suns in the ride. It has beams which seem to continually radiate light, in spite of the fact that thing is made out of plywood. It’s not done with electronic light controls or programmable armatures, but rather with our familiar old friend, Mr. Turntable.

First you have the static sun, which is just a plywood Mary Blair-esque sun cutout. It sticks out from the wall a bit, with its sunbeams spiraling around it in a series of triangular spines.

Behind it appears to be another cutout sun of the same pattern, but mirrored, so that its spines are angled the opposite direction. As the turntable rotates, it exposes progressively more of the of the sunbeam with each degree, creating an optical illusion that the sun’s rays are pulsating outwards.

Ripsaw Sun

Ripsaw Sun

Cyclist on Tight Rope

I’m actually not sure if this effect has been removed entirely, or has just been under refurbishment lately, but in the last room (Antarctica, where all the children of the world go to suffer a horrible frozen death), you can see a cable strung between the walls across the channel. This cable should be home to a circus performing cyclist doll, who wheels back and forth across the thin thread (the cable is still there by the cyclist has not been seen for awhile).

One look at the cable’s thickness and you can see that this actually is kind of an incredible feat. The have some kind of animatronic-mannequin-whatever literally cycling a tightrope over a boatful of guests. One might be tempted to assume that the guy is anchored to rope, but it’s clear that he’s moving back and forth. Why are they so sure that he won’t fall off?

Part of it is balance. The cyclist himself is probably very light. He carries a long pole crossways, upon which two other acrobats are dangling from each end. These guys are probably weighted so that their heaviest mass is actually drooping down below the wire, the sheer force of gravity keeping them firmly tugged down so that one of them can’t suddenly shift above the wire and upset the applecart. It’s a simple system of counterbalances.

That’s all well and good, but how does the cyclist then move back and forth? Do they have a little motor in there making the guy pedal? As we’ve already said, complex motors are prone to break down, and this one would need to keep the cyclist moving backwards and forwards, always hitting his mark.

But fortunately the answer is much simpler, and even though there is a motor involved, it’s basically back to gravity.

One end of the cable is designed to raise and lower between a span of about twelve inches on the wall. Lower the cable and you create an incline, the cyclist starts rolling downhill. Raise the cable and you’ve now reversed the incline. He cycles backwards the way he came. It keeps him moving along the same path.

No cyclist pictured, but you can see the slit in the wall where the cable is raised and lowered.

No cyclist pictured, but you can see the slit in the wall where the cable is raised and lowered. That faint white line cutting diagonal across the top half of the picture is the tight rope.

Summary

None of these three tricks are all that spectacular when you look at them, but the cleverness of them has always fascinated me. Check them out the next time you’re on the ride.