Harry Potter and the All-Day Pass

http://community.post-gazette.com/blogs/radicalmiddle/default.aspx
Jul 16 2009
Harry Potter and the All-Day Pass
(because nothing says hogwarts quite like central Florida)...


All the press and fuss over the release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince — haven’t seen it yet; can’t wait; counting down to a Saturday afternoon screening once Adam gets back from camp — got to me wondering about the status of the Harry Potter theme park, announced a little over two years ago and threatened slated to be built in Orlando, Florida.

Turns out the abomination thing is right on schedule and slated to open in Spring 2010.
Universal Orlando even has a brand-new teaser web site that includes (old) news, a gallery of Early Conceptual Renderings, and a page to sign up for early email updates that includes not a single reference, joke, or allusion to owls.
It’s all very corporate and sparkly — by which I mean, uninspired and dreary — and it convinces me all the more that this site, which could (and, of course, should) be so filled with magic and wonder will instead be filled with product and dross.

It also reminds me of the post I wrote at the time of the initial announcement — one that I stand by, and that still amuses me, to this day:

I'm intrigued by the news out of London today that J.K. Rowling has given the go-ahead for a Harry Potter theme park to be built in Orlando, Florida. I'll admit that the idea of walking around a full-scale construction of Hogwarts, complete with enchanted ceilings and moving staircases and peevish poltergeists swirling overhead, gives me a kick. But that kick lands squarely in my pants as soon as I imagine climbing to the top of Gryffindor Tower, looking out one of the windows, and seeing some roller coasters and a couple of waterparks in the distance.

If someone's really going to do this — and if it really is, as the press release promises, intended to be the world's first immersive Harry Potter themed environment — then the damned thing shouldn't be built in great, flat, hot, sunny, mega-Muggled, uber-commercialized central Florida. The Black Lake shouldn't be man-made, the Dark Forest can't have palm trees, and Hagrid's Hut should not be a couple of miles from Disney World, down the street from an IHOP and a Ramada Inn. It should be in rural England, first of all. But if it must be in America, then it should be somewhere reasonably remote, surrounded by lakes and trees and mountains, nestled in a setting that may not be exactly as Rowling has described it, but that is close enough to evoke the proper senses of magic and mystery and ethereal distance from our everyday lives. And you should only be able to access the grounds by rail, by riding on a replica of the Hogwarts Express and then walking, or perhaps riding in a boat or a horseless carriage, all the way to its oak front doors.


And then, if they're really, really going to do it right, they need to pull no punches (or spells, or hexes) in the creation and execution of their immersive, narrative-inspired thrill rides.
Because we'll all want to go on the the
Watch Your Parents Get Killed By Voldemort ride,
the Get Chased and Bitten By a Giant, Demonic Basilisk ride,
the Have Your Soul Sucked Out By a Horde of Dementors dark ride,
the Watch Wormtail Kill Cedric and Then Cut Off His Own Right Hand roller coaster,
the Your Head Hurts More Than Ever and You Have to Watch Some Crazy Witch Kill Your Godfather attraction,
and the Cower Beneath Your Invisibility Cloak as Dumbledore Dies and Plummets Seven Stories to the Cold, Hard Ground attraction — which would, of course, be followed soon after by the Attend Dumbledore's Funeral and Feel Like All Hope is Lost music and magic show.

And then, if Book Seven unfolds as I think it must, you can end your fun-filled day with the Die an Excruciating Death Like Harry So You Too Can Save the World thrill ride extravaganza, before buying a couple of souvenirs at the Whomping Willow Gift Shop (Our Prices Can't Be Beaten, But You Can!)
and returning to your cars on a Fawkes the Phoenix Afterlife Shuttlebus.

That sounds like some sure-fire family fun, that does. And no matter how truly intense or immersive it became, it sure would beat the hell out of watching a Quidditch match, played on the Minute Maid Pitch at Amway Arena, only an hour or so after you'd finished eating breakfast at Stuckey's.

**************

This guy has the proper perspective, wouldn't you agree?
hehehe

XOXO
Me