When I first visited Disneyland in 1971, and in several subsequent visits during the next thirty years, I will admit that I generally enjoyed the experience. But my more recent visits have mostly been ordeals, and I am commited to never going to Disneyland again. Here are my reasons.
The Hassle of Getting There. Once, getting into Disneyland was easy: there was a large parking lot next to the park, with sections named for Disney characters, and you parked your car, walked to the entrance, purchased your tickets, and entered without any scrutiny. But the construction of the adjacent California Adventure park eliminated the nearby parking, so now you must park in a remote parking lot, take a long walk to where the shuttlebuses stop, get on a shuttlebus, get off, and take another long walk to the park entrance, where there is a long line to get in while employees check everyone’s purses and carry-ons to make sure that they aren’t bringing in any dangerous items – like inexpensive water bottles and snacks, which would mean that you wouldn’t be obliged to purchase the overpriced food and drinks offered in the park. Overall, once you get to Anaheim, you can anticipate that it will take at least thirty minutes to actually enter the park; and of course, the process of exiting the park and getting back to your car will take almost as long.
The Prices. It is true that Walt Disney was always interested in making money, and everything he did was aimed at achieving a profit. Yet that wasn’t the only thing that motivated him; he genuinely enjoyed providing people with wholesome entertainment at a reasonable cost, and in his second-floor apartment on Main Street, he relished looking down on the appreciative guests. At times, I am told, he would go down to anonymously mingle with the crowds having a good time. However, I am reasonably sure that none of the current Disney executives ever visit Walt Disney’s apartment for the heartening experience of observing the happy guests; to them, the attendees at Disneyland are simply statistics: typical family a, b, c, and d are currently spending only x amount of dollars on each visit, and we must figure out ways to get them to spend x + y dollars.
So, in the first place, the price of admission has skyrocketed, and it keeps going up all the time. The explanation is always the cost of adding new rides, but given the expense of maintaining all the existing rides, creating and maintaining another one could not significantly increase the Disneyland budget. So, Disney has the causality reversed: they aren’t raising prices because of the new rides, but rather they are adding new rides to justifying raising prices.
In the 1970s and 1980s, when inside the park, I don’t recall feeling ripped off by purchases; yes, the prices were higher than what you would find outside the park, but not outrageously so. That is no longer the case. When I am thirsty, being offered ridiculously expensive bottles of water, I instead started going to the water fountains, even though the water is never cold, to better encourage you to buy their expensive chilled beverages. I think the accountants’ philosophy is that when you have a captive audience, you can charge anything you like, and whenever they experience a decline in attendance, their solution is never to lower prices, but rather to add a new attraction and eventually raise prices even further.
I distinctly recall one of Disneyland’s most egregious buck hustles: “Disney Dollars.” So, you could exchange your hard-earned cash for colorful pieces of paper featuring Disney characters, and you could have the “fun” of spending them for food and merchandise while in the park. (The concept that it is wildly more enjoyable to purchase something with a bill featuring Goofy instead of a bill featuring Andrew Jackson never made any sense to me.) Then, at the end of the day, you could exchange your Disney Dollars for real money, or keep them as “souvenirs.” So, to explicate this scheme: Disney was selling you items worth almost nothing; as if realizing that this was indefensible, they were always willing to give you your money back; but they were secretly hoping that you would neglect to do so, either due to forgetfulness or an idiotic desire to retain “souvenirs,” enabling them to profit.
I also object to the increasingly common practice of forcing guests who exit a ride to walk through a gift store filled with ridiculously expensive items related to that ride. People should be obliged to enter a gift store only if they are interested in purchasing something; requiring them to do so is an obviously cynical policy based on the hope that some parent might be tempted to impulsively purchase an item for their child that they otherwise never would have considered.
The Indifference to Older Guests. It often gets hot in southern California, and one would think that a caring park would include a lot of chairs and benches in the shade where people, especially older people, could relax and cool off. But good luck to anyone seeking out such a place in Disneyland. Yes, there are plenty of benches, but almost none of them are in the shade, and the few that are shaded invariably are occupied; on one especially hot day, I was feeling a need to sit down and rest, but my wife could not find anyplace to do so in the shade. Again, this is a matter of intentional design: people who are relaxing on a bench are not spending money; if they are forced to move around, they might be tempted to buy a snow cone or enter a gift store. Also, the benches are never particularly comfortable, even though it would be easy and inexpensive to upgrade them; but again, Disney executives simply do not want their guests to remain sitting for very long.
It is also significant that there are never any awnings over the interminably long lines outside certain Disney attractions, and while there have been a few efforts to entertain guests in a line, such as the amusing tombstones outside the Haunted Mansion, most lines offer no entertainment at all. Again, all of this is deliberate, because Disneyland wants you to purchase their options of bypassing the lines. Bluntly, people are deliberately being forced to suffer in boredom because the park wants to make more money.
And Disneyland increasingly requires the use of smartphones to expeditiously secure places on rides or make dinner reservations, which effectively disenfranchises older guests who are less skilled with smartphones. In our recent visits, we depended upon our tech-savvy son-in-law to deal with these issues, but not every older guest can command the services of a younger relative.
Overall, it seems clear to me that Disney executives are simply not interested in appealing to older guests, who are typically less likely to spend a lot of money at the park.
The Elimination or Modification of Rides. I do not believe in rigidly clinging to the past, and I will admit that some of the changes Disneyland has made over the years should be celebrated, like eliminating the wretched Bear Country Jamboree and revamping Splash Mountain to remove references to the racist movie Song of the South (1946). But I regret most of the other changes, particularly the removal of what was my favorite Disneyland ride, Monsanto Inner Space, a well-designed and conceptually interesting ride in which riders gradually found themselves shrinking to eventually enter a microscopic world. It was torn down and replaced with Star Tours, in which people sit in chairs which slightly move in a pathetic attempt to persuade them to feel like they are traveling through space. I went on it once, hated it, and have never gone again. (When I go on a ride, I want to actually move around – not sit in a chair that slightly shifts position to simulate movement. This is also why I hated another similar ride that nobody misses, Mission to the Moon, later Mission to Mars.)
I also enjoyed the Carousel of Progress, which slowly rotated guests as they viewed the kitchens of the past, present, and future; it was relaxing and inoffensive if not compelling entertainment. But it was replaced by America Sings, an uninspired celebration of American music, before the whole building was torn down. Another fascinating attraction was the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse, showing the ingenious ways in which the castaways employed objects in their island environment to assist in their everyday lives; it was unfortunately changed to Tarzan’s Treehouse, to promote the animated movie, with all of the interesting aspects of the exhibit removed. Disneyland also likes to temporarily modify some rides to promote other films, and while the alterations to Space Mountain, retitled Hyperspace Mountain to incorporate Star Wars references, are inoffensive, the modifications to the Haunted Mansion to connect it with The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) definitely weakened the ride’s impact.
More broadly, it’s true that Disneyland has always included some rides based on Disney films, but the park also created enjoyable rides that were unrelated to any films, like the classic Jungle Cruise, Haunted Mansion, and Pirates of the Caribbean. Now, it seems that every new ride is designed in part to promote a Disney film, and if an existing ride can’t be rebranded to refer to a film, the company will occasionally create a film based on that ride – sometimes successfully (Pirates of the Caribbean), sometimes less successfully (Haunted Mansion, Jungle Cruise). And of course, every ride now generates overpriced merchandise sold in stores adjacent to or nearby these rides. As the analysts would say, it is all a matter of “synergy,” getting people to ride the ride, see the film, and buy the toys.
The Terrible Vegetarian Food. Every Disneyland eatery dutifully includes a “vegetarian option,” but in my years of being a vegetarian, I have only encountered one dish that was reasonably palatable – a veggie burger at a fast-casual restaurant where you stood in line to get your food and took it to a table. But thanks to the generosity of my sister, I have eaten in some of Disneyland’s finest restaurants, and the offerings I was served ranged from barely tolerable to absolutely inedible.
I recall one time when the dish I received was so awful that I literally could not eat it, even though I was hungry; a server noticed that I wasn’t eating, I explained the situation, and she offered to bring me another vegetarian entrée, which was only slightly better, but I was able to eat it. The server also remarked that a number of other guests had complained about my original order, which raises the questions: if customers are regularly complaining about a certain dish, why has it remained on the menu? The answer is simple: Disneyland simply doesn’t care about vegetarians, probably viewing them as annoyances who won’t order their more expensive meat-filled entrées. So, the chefs work very hard to produce delicious food for carnivores, and seemingly relegate the task of creating a “vegetarian option” to inexperienced underlings who spend a few minutes throwing them together without any concerns about whether it actually tastes good.
So, if there is a unifying theme to all of these complaints: Walt Disney himself balanced a reasonable concern for making money with some genuine altruism; I feel that he wanted people from all income levels to be able to visit his park and have a good time. Today, Disneyland displays no altruism at all; the park is all about making money, and finding more and more ways to make money, and they are perfectly willing to discourage poorer guests and older guests from attending the park in order to pursue profits from young people with lots of spending money. And I for one no longer want to contribute to filling their overstuffed coffers in exchange for some moments of pleasure.