The importance of place: Spooky Towers and How You Get to Them
I was just reading Foxx Nolte/Passport2Dreams’ brilliant book Boundless Realms, and found this passage at the start of Chapter 2:
“Haunted Mansions lurk deep inside theme parks, and this is as it should be...It’s crucial that we must first pass through themed areas celebrating an optimistic, golden past...before we hit the place where that optimism somehow all went wrong.”
First of all, I thought this perfectly described how well-placed both the Disneyland and Disney World mansions are, and how that goes a long way in making both of those “work”. But then, I realized, this same principle was also applied to the Towers!
It’s no secret that the Towers of Terror are the bigger, more thrill-ride-based descendants of The Haunted Mansion. Their sheer scale makes blending them into the scenery even more difficult, though, since you can’t tuck them into the trees or hillside like a more “regular” haunted house. Still, the designers managed to mostly preserve that idea of hiding the haunts until we’ve seen the optimism first.
While the buildings at both DCA and Hollywood Studios are visible even from outside the park, they’re carefully angled or placed behind other buildings so that none of the destroyed/haunted parts obviously show. Florida’s is mostly visible from only the back and sides until you get into the park--and the back and sides still look like a normal hotel, with the ripped-open and burned parts restricted to the front. DCA’s destroyed front faced the entry gates, but buildings in front of it hid most of the burn scars, leaving the slightly off-kilter sign as the only visible sign something might be amiss.
It was a significant trek through an optimistically-themed area to get to either Tower as well. DCA made you take the walk through either a stylized retro postcard or Walt’s Los Angeles, and then through the glitz of a Hollywood set/street, before you turned the corner to find that fancy hotel that was beckoning you forward was, in fact, a haunted wreck all along. In Florida, you first take a walk down a fancy Hollywood street before turning onto Sunset Boulevard. While the wreckage is then visible from the second you turn onto Sunset, there’s still a sense of having to “see the optimism first”. Sunset itself has an idealized late-WWII setting, with advertisements for war bonds and victory gardens in the food court. Looming over this idealized “can-do” spirit, though, is an ominous reminder of how things can go terribly wrong, and how not all is good and cheery in this setting.
In the 90s-2000s, in the era that focused more on thrills while also having to deal with tighter budgets, it would have been entirely possible that Disney would forget to work the environment for maximum spooky story potential. Heck, it might even be coincidence or luck. But still, it’s great how it worked out, and yet another great storytelling element the Towers borrowed from their predecessor.