The ninth spot on this list appears to be where it gets extremely intimidating to write these posts.
Mostly because these are now some incredibly legendary attractions. So much ink from many far more fit than I has been spilled to painstakingly pick these shows apart. I feel qualified in trying to rank these attractions, but I genuinely do not feel qualified to tackle their importance or their design, let alone overturning some stone revealing a concept that hasn't already been covered before.
I'm intimidated, as well, because this is where people start getting really angry. The exasperation others a few people have expressed over some of these spots seemingly-attacking something they feel so personally has actually stressed me out more than I anticipated. To those who feel the things they love have been slighted, I'm sorry. It wasn't personal or intended.
In the specific case of this post right here, I can feel the shouting already. Here, I'm going to head that off at the past: yes, the Florida version of Pirates of the Caribbean is the "lesser" version of the attraction. The case I will make is not to disagree with that fact, but to rather dismiss it as irrelevant.
For one, this is the greatest Walt Disney World attractions of all-time, so there being a superior take on an attraction on the other coast does not enter into the conversation. If we were ranking Disney attractions period, the Californian Pirates would quite obviously be higher. In fact, probably at the very top.
That fact sets up the next point: not being as good as the 1967 Disneyland Pirates of the Caribbean is no great insult. This is like saying a movie is bad for not being Citizen Kane, a video game is bad for not being The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, or an album is bad for not being Abbey Road. Pirates on the West Coast is arguably the single greatest theme park attraction ever built; it's pretty hard to beat the best, and failing to do so is not real criticism.
If Pirates of California is the greatest attraction ever built, then, it stands to reason that being 90% -- or even 70% -- as great would still be. . . a really great attraction? That's going to be our starting point today with Pirates of Florida. Compartmentalize -- a very useful skill in general -- the Caribbean Plaza's boat ride in isolation from other versions, and judge it for what it is rather than what it's not. If California had never built its version, this wouldn't be the attraction at the top of the list, but no one would question it being near the top. Maybe the truncated take is disappointing if you grew up in Los Angeles, but that is not the same thing as being bad.
So then, let's talk about what makes Pirates of the Caribbean so absolutely legendary. As has been discussed repeatedly by this point, the easiest way to make this list is to have tons of atmosphere and detailed set designs. Bonus points are given if you can do so with accessibility to guests of all ages and sized, doing so with an efficiency that keeps the line moving, and doing it all with a fun ride system. Pirates checks every single box.
It's dripping with ambience. The show scenes are richly detailed, with something new to find in every direction. Its drop is not so tall as to create a height restriction. And its boats can move multiple thousands of people an hour along its gentle waves.
We've now talked several times about the advancements created for the 1964 New York World's Fair, and Pirates combined two of the biggest. It took the pump-propelled boat flume design from "it's a small world" and scaled it up significantly. They built windy show scenes, used the element of water to enhance the place making, and even put drops in there for a little bit a thrill. Then, they took the human Audio Animatronic technology of Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln and the Carousel of Progress and just absolutely escalated things to a new level. The scenery of the trip down the Caribbean was fully populated by dozens of detailed, life-like citizens and pirates of different shapes, sizes, and routines. This is an animatronic extravaganza of the highest order.
The WED Enterprises names that worked on this attraction are legendary, and largely became legendary through their efforts. Alice Davis created an entire wardrobe for these animatronics, with incredible pirate outfits, dresses for the Caribbean women, and tattered clothes for skeletons in caves. X Attencio wrote a show that made logical sense -- more so in Florida, and we'll get to that -- with dialogue that has become iconic and a song that has outgrown its place as simple background for a theme park ride. Yale Gracey, essentially a practical magician, produced a few eye-popping effects that are as amazing as they are simple.
Most legendarily of all, though, was the combination of Marc Davis's visual gags with Claude Coats's ambience and detail. Alice's husband first made with creating the unmistakable cartoon whimsy and humor seen in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and brought those sensibilities to theme park design. He was a master at putting funny looking people in amusing situations. Claude was a background artist, who was absolutely incredible at using light and color to create emotion and feel. The two combined -- alone with the help of the rest of their team -- to produce show scenes that have become thoroughly recognizable as part of pop culture beyond mere theme park fandom.
Pirates is incredible for its spooky, moody caves, with rushing water, skeletons, and a terrifying wrecked ship navigating a hurricane. For a massive ship laying siege to a fortress in a bay that feels larger than one show building can hold, as you drift right through the middle of it all. For a mayor being dunked into a well while his wife screams for him to stay brave. For a troupe of bards -- and a dog and a donkey -- playing music through the burning down of everything around them, while their friends pass out drunk. For a trio who managed to be captured trying to escape the dungeon by coaxing a dog to give them the keys.
The sound, the color, and the sites of these moments in Pirates of the Caribbean have taken on a life of their own, making for one of the most immersive experiences of any kind anywhere on the planet. Whether you are traveling past the first or the second version of these scenes, you are passing through something incredible.
Now, what I'm going to argue is that, in all those things the two U.S. versions have in common, the second take did them better. If the California version can be -- justifiably -- considered better for having started this all, and for having so much more going on during its ride, the Florida version deserves credit for how it improved the things it borrowed.
Here I will be borrowing heavily from FoxxFur yet again, here and here because she knows what she's talking about, and is my superior at presenting it. You should definitely read her Pirates works be cause they are thoughtful, well-supported, and deserve your attention. To begin with, Magic Kingdom's Pirates was created with a bit more thought towards its narrative. I personally enjoy the Disneyland version for being an almost inexplicable series of elements that are merely connected by magic and because they are fun, but the Magic Kingdom version successfully concentrated on the story of being in a fort attacked by pirates looking for gold, and watching them hunt for that gold.
Florida, as well, added three small elements that aren't foundation-shifting, but I do happen to love. The first is one of those beloved Yale Gracey effects, the spooky ship floating out on Moonlight Bay as you depart from the fort to escape. It's not big, but it is one of the most gorgeous, haunting, and atmospheric dioramas in any attraction.
The final addition -- I'll get back to the second -- is a reimagined finale. The Florida version emphasized the pirates' search for gold, and the finale was their finding of the treasury in the fort, with two Spanish soldiers tied up. Piracy doesn't pay, of course, as the rascally scoundrels won't get far with their loot as they drunkenly lay about with the whole village burning up. It was a less grand and exciting finale than the burning rafters and shootout of the original, but it made a different choice to tie up the overarching narrative.
The second is the peaceful break as you drift past Old Bill. Old Bill -- a drunken pirate trying to share his drink with cats -- is as Marc Davis a creation as you will ever see, successful enough the character was brought retroactively to California. However, in Florida, he gets his own moment in a dark, moon-light corner with the shadow of a tree -- atmosphere that is as Claude Coats a creation as you will ever see. It's not only amusing, but it makes for a quiet few seconds to catch your breath before the burning finale of the tale is revealed as you pass Old Bill and under a bridge.
That particular scene is representative of what Florida does so well with its Pirates: pacing. Old Bill is the narrative breather before the third act like you'll find in a well-organized film script. Walt Disney World has fewer scenes, but what scenes it does have are thoughtfully laid out -- by people who had practice from the first time they built this and knew what they were doing -- to give you just a little more time to ponder the design and its happenings, and with better, more natural sight lines.
Foxx gives the perfect example with the approach to and exit from the well scene in Florida:
Marc Davis or somebody else has placed a handsome two-towered building between the Well scene and Auction scene, replacing a simple wall with a small boat as the visual divider between the two scenes. By placing that two-towered building between the restaged well scene and the Auction scene in Florida, our attention is allowed to momentarily wander, to move from the Well scene's dialogue to that big building, or maybe across the way to a dimly illuminated balcony complete with flickering lanterns and some chairs. When we enter the Auction scene, we see it first from afar, become oriented, then move in close. It provides a better showcase for each scene.
In case I have to say this one more time: this is not an argument against anyone claiming the superiority of the California Pirates; I am right there with you. I am simply making the argument that we can also still appreciate the Florida Pirates for what it is. Once again, Foxx says it better than me in her deconstruction of what makes the West Coast ride great:
Both attractions are unique entities that play by different rules. While I don't think this is a bad thing it does contribute greatly to the misunderstanding and scorn the Florida Pirates receives. Because a California native imposes a "West Coast Reading" on the East Coast ride doesn't mean that the designers had any such inclinations in mind. The rides do, after all, have unique strengths and weaknesses.
Now, it is not getting points for originality, to be clear; at least as a ride. Disneyland's Pirates changed the landscape of themed rides, and so its perch as arguably the greatest thing ever built is not just in how much fun it remains to ride but in what it accomplished for Disney and the industry writ large. The second pirate ride didn't do that.
It did still have one big new thing to contribute to the world of theme parks that it probably doesn't get enough credit for, though: the invention of the themed queue. The WDW Pirates chose to build an entire land that started you in the Caribbean, at the time of a siege, rather than floating you from the New Orleans bayou back in time and out to the Caribbean. The ride begins with escaping the fort as it's being attacked, and so the setting and story of what's happening needed to happen before the ride.
Thus, they did so with the queue. You enter a fort -- once upon a time at the behest of a charming animatronic bird that I adored -- and with canon fire off in the distance. As you meander through -- past the armory, embattlements, a gorgeous Spanish Mediterranean fountain, and a dungeon with two iconic skeletons locked in a chess game -- you hear the resident army prepare for the attack, prepared to defend their village from the coming attack. The design of the fort is absolutely dripping with detail, and is every bit as fascinating and atmospheric as anything on the coming ride. I once had the great pleasure to get to see it on a semi-regular basis before it had opened, and it never failed to be enchanting years later.
The final piece of scenery is a Davis design, a cave with the glow of torchlight leaking out, and the sound of pirates just around the corner, digging and looking for treasure. It's a great element, adding life and depth to the location you're walking through. It also subtly sets you down understanding of why these pirates are here: to find the treasure.
Think of all the great queues you have no crossed through as a theme park guest. Indiana Jones Adenture, Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run, Under the Sea, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Jouney, and Expedition Everest all owe their existence to what Pirates of the Caribbean in the Magic Kingdom started. The 70s are where WED Enterprises realized they could do more than put together chains and stanchions to coral guests as they waited to ride. It was when they realized they could take you through (air conditioned) locations that were entertainment, atmospheric, mesmerizing, and set the groundwork for where you are and what is happening while you're there. It's something we have come just to expect of our big attractions, but it wasn't a thing before the fortress in Caribbean Plaza.
If life ever gives you the opportunity, travel to California, visit Disneyland, head to New Orleans square, and take a trip to the Caribbean in a legendary attraction that is the arguable peak of its art form. When you go to Florida, though, and see the remake, try with all your might to enjoy it for what it is, and don't hurt your own joy by worrying about somewhere else you can't presently be. I guarantee you very few people who come off the East version without ever having been to the West are thinking, "why were the caves so short?" They're thinking they just saw an incredible adventure that could only possibly be topped by the absolute greatest rides ever made.
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