Invisible In the Magic Kingdom, part IV

p>Disney-MGM Studios was hugely enjoyable for the film geek in me. The highlight was surely standing outside a mock-up of the famous Mann’s Chinese Theatre, trying to find a pair of footprints into which I could fit my own enormous shoes—and discovering that I matched The Rocketeer’s bootprints perfectly.
I LIKE it!

From a kiosk in Disney’s Animal Kingdom I bought a small bronze figurine of Ganesh that now occupies a place of pride on my computer.



The figurine, by the way, looks nothing like this image.

Also at Animal Kingdom: “Tarzan Rocks!” Billed as “a concert event,” it was an attempt to co-opt the power and energy of rock ‘n’ roll that utterly failed to do so, for all its weird over-the-topness. It didn’t feel like a rock concert at all, despite a competent and highly visible band.

The show failed, I think because rock ‘n’ roll is ultimately at least in part about the cult of personality. And Disney’s performers, though highly skilled and enthusiastic, are studiedly anonymous—by design, in fact: there are no program guides, no credit books— you literally don’t know who these people are. The guitarist, for instance, did all the classic rock-star preening and posturing: but his poses, unlike, say Jimmy Page’s, rang hollow—because they didn’t reflect any personality: at least, not one that we knew...

(That guitarist bore a chance resemblance to David Knopfler, ex of Dire Straits—I joked with D that the Disney gig was probably the best he could get now: but a quick Google search reveals that in fact David Knopfler is now, God help us all, a web designer.)

Our hotel TV had dozens of channels, but it may has well have gotten only two, for all we watched. Meteorologist was speaking of “a highly organized weather system out West.” Oh, God—look out! It’s the West Coast Weather Mafia!