2.1 Production and Reception of Cinematic Theme Park Lands

Mateer delineates how CVR should be approached in a cinematic method so that the director of the production can effectively engage the viewer and enable them to experience the narrative and interpret a story. Initially, the director formulates an interpretation of the story and derives an overall theme or message rooted in that interpretation. Subsequently, the creative process propels the director to consider the technical methods regarding how the project will reveal information, tell the narrative, and visually manifest all of these constituents within an expansive environment. Moreover, Mateer also emphasizes the importance of one feeling ‘presence’ within the space and mentions interactive designer and scholar Carrie Heeter’s three distinct types of presence (19):

1. Social presence: interacting with other characters and human beings

2. Environmental presence: the environment acknowledges that you are there

3. Personal presence: simulating real-world perceptions

These guiding principles and factors involved within VR’s creative process are both informative and prevailing within the cinematic production and reception of Avatar — The World of Pandora and Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge, as the creators concurrently espouse these various aspects of immersion while still considering how to direct a wandering camera.

First, in formulating an interpretation of the story and establishing its themes, each land approaches its source material in different yet intriguing ways. Just as Avatar established a trailblazing criterion for utilizing digital 3-D aesthetics and digital visual effects, Pandora — The World of Avatar also crystallized a model for immersive practices and can be perceived as a precursor to Galaxy’s Edge in terms of the land’s degree of interactivity and its aptitude to relinquish narrative construction to the individual spectator. Essentially, Pandora and Galaxy’s Edge attempt to direct the spectator through novel methods rooted in CVR exhibition while still appropriating the aspects of stereoscopic, 3-D cinema as well as surround sound, cinematographic lighting, and digital filmmaking exhibition to generate the environment and its respective attractions. 

Avatar director James Cameron and producer Jon Landau were profoundly involved with the creation of the Valley of Mo’ara — a fictional, smaller environment within the world of Pandora. As such, the land is situated in relation to the Avatar cinematic universe — approximately over one-hundred years past any of Cameron’s potential sequels and spin-offs. During one’s visit to the Valley of Mo’ara, each guest is positioned as a tourist visiting a shared reservation amongst the Na’vi and humans that is being utilized for ecotourism and research. Not only does this backstory and timeline give Cameron the freedom to explore supplemental stories within Avatar sequels, but it also ties in with the themes and values of Disney’s Animal Kingdom park. As Joe Rohde⁷ claimed, “If you think about the intrinsic value of nature, transformation through adventure, and personal call to action — these are the values of Animal Kingdom. But, if you say them again, those are the themes of the film Avatar.” (Niles 2017: ?). Rohde also maintained that the narratives one develops and the interactions one encounters while visiting the land influence one’s understanding of environmental issues in the real world.

Galaxy’s Edge presents itself as a small village called the Black Spire Outpost located on one of the more unfamiliar planets in the Star Wars universe called Batuu.⁸ Scott Trowbridge and the creative team for Galaxy’s Edge sought to deviate from notable locations, endeavoring to interject novel stories and destinations within the Star Wars universe.⁹ In terms of the film saga, the immersive land situates itself amongst the ongoing battle focused on in the most recent Star Wars trilogy between the First Order and The Resistance.¹⁰ Moreover, Trowbridge alluded to further developing the sense of interactivity and storytelling in Pandora when he claimed that “our intent is to make it feel as if you just walked into one of the movies… Bringing Star Wars to life in the physical world gives us the opportunity to play with a whole bunch of things we’ve never done before… to really engage all of the senses” (Frye 2015: ?). In fact, Trowbridge — testifying to the current, overarching endeavors of Disney Imagineering, maintained that “all of this work we’re doing is kind of geared towards this idea of creating emotionally meaningful transformative shared experiences in these environments and these places you can’t otherwise do it on your own. And not in a virtual way. Not in a kind of VR, ‘I’m wearing goggles’ way…” (Trowbridge, Scott Trowbridge — Unexpected Magic: Inviting the Audience to Drive the Story). While not as centered on a particular “message” or “theme,” the land strives for an unprecedented degree of subjective storytelling and interactivity.

Notably, these experiences are not exhibited through the standard means of virtual reality, but they are prominently informed by both the principles and technology of VR. In the production of Galaxy’s Edge, a digital system known as BIM (Building Information Modeling) allowed the Imagineers to visually consolidate 2-D plans, 3-D models, infrastructure, and set dressing information into a comprehensive digital model that all departments could reference as they produced the project from the ground up. These digital renderings were imported into a virtual reality system that allowed engineers, architects, artists, and designers to observe and adapt their designs from the perspective of a visitor touring the area. Essentially, there is a quality of CVR direction transpiring through the artistic process and a foundation of VR underlying the production of these projects.

Theoretically, experiencing Black Spire Outpost or the Valley of Mo’ara is essentially an example of what Herbert Zettl calls “deductive sequencing” in cinema. The entrances for each land cinematically present the spectator with stunning wide shots of fantastical props and set pieces that establish the mood and setting of the environment. After these visual introductions, one can roam the area and — operating as the camera — select their own array of medium shots, close-ups, and movements that synthesize into a kind of one-shot, long-take throughout the land. Naturally, the guiding hand of Disney Imagineering is unknowingly present at all times, steering the spectator as camera and instigating various choices.

To properly contextualize the techniques of guidance and the ways in which personal presence manifest throughout one’s encounter with the artificial environment, I espouse the work of Zettl, who sought to theorize “how moving images can not only be ‘read’ to understand their underlying creative structures… but how new moving images can be conceived and ‘written,’ to communicate with maximum effectiveness” (Frierson 2018: 4). One of Zettl’s key concepts was that of vectors, which were rooted in contextualizing the film frame in terms of the Cartesian coordinate system of x, y, and z axes (Fig. 1).

Various components and set-pieces throughout each environment can be perceived as vectors influencing the spectator/camera/character’s perception within this three-dimensional axis. For example, the main entrance to the Valley of Mo’ara utilizes a graphic and index vector in the form of a large, Pandora-native plant called a Flasca Reclonada. The plant’s sheer size beckons the spectator’s attention, and its interactivity — the plant spews water and mist from the top when it is touched — introduces a sense of environmental presence for the individual (Fig. 2).

The plant’s positioning creates a graphic vector¹¹ that suggests a tilted vertical line that leads to the upper-left side of the subjective frame. Furthermore, if this is understood to be a real flower within the diegetic world that naturally grows in this direction, the giant plant becomes an index vector¹² that carries its inherent directionality into the frame. Considering this connotation of movement and directionality, the interactive prop functions as a cue directing the camera/spectator’s perspective to veer towards a trail on the left while simultaneously calling attention to the ostensibly floating rock formation on the frame’s z-axis. Succeeding this subtle manipulation, the camera/spectator follows the trail — with each side covered by dense foliage obscuring any views beyond the tree line — until it slightly curves to the right and unveils a spectacular wide-shot of the floating mountain range that hovers over the Valley of Mo’ara. The establishing wide shot of the magnificent floating mountain range, “held for enough screen for the audience to scan the frame, allows a complete ‘mental map’ of the space to register” (Frierson 2018: 41). Zettl also argued that “aesthetic impact increases with screen size” (41), which renders the 12-acre screen of Pandora a perfect example of how the wide shot generates affect for the spectator. The image of the floating mountain range not only establishes location but also “communicates the aesthetic energy of a space” (41). Furthermore, the water rapidly cascading down the rock formations creates vertical, high magnitude motion vectors¹³ that solicits the gaze to look up.

Like the cinematic wide-shot of the floating mountain range, Galaxy’s Edge contains cinematic “reveal” shots that are visual spectacles. Take, for example, the strategic placement of the life-size reproduction of the Millennium Falcon, situated amongst several buildings that conceal the spacecraft from anything but a close encounter. Each of the pathways to reach the ship are arranged around the corners of buildings, staging the camera/spectator to conduct pan-like movements that gradually reveal the spectacular shot. Spacecrafts from the Star Wars universe are also methodically situated in various parts of the land to entice particular actions or feelings of wonderment, like a multi-purpose transport shuttle that one can view from a distance as it is docked on top of Docking Bay 7 Food and Cargo — the area’s primary dining location (Fig. 3-4).

As the spectator/camera/character absorbs these images, the implementation of forced perspective is persistently skewing the subjective perception of the land to extend farther beyond the actual size of the environment, implying that Pandora does further dwell beyond eyesight and connoting a sense of widespread exploration that encourages the guest to roam the space. Forced perspective — an illusionistic, three-dimensional stereoscopic visualization — is described by Boyle as “achieving a large space in a limited space. You bring the background up, and you force everything smaller” (qtd. in Prince 2011: 157). The implementation of “forced perspective” is often used to connote depth within a space, and it is realized through both architectural means and digital techniques. In terms of tangible manifestations of this perceptual illusion, miniature rock moldings are interspersed throughout the floating mountain range in the Valley of Mo’ara to make it appear as if the suspended formations extend far beyond into the distance. The smaller-sized models are also painted with a muted color palette and a blue tint to connote distance and render an aerial perspective.¹⁴ This type of difference in color and scale alludes to the compositional tools that Mateer outlines as constituents of controlling audience attention in CVR (21) (Fig. 5).

In attractions such as “Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance” or “Na’vi River Journey,” digital projections on screens are incorporated to extend space beyond the physical sets within various scenes and sequences. Take, for example, “Na’vi River Journey,” in which digital projections of Pandora’s environment and wildlife are interspersed amongst the material sets and animatronics that primarily constitute the experience. Each digital moving image projection is another instance of forced perspective, in which the background images of the forest scene become gradually smaller, manipulating the perception of the environment’s z-axis to extend far beyond (Fig. 6).

Similarly, “Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance” in Galaxy’s Edge implements various digital moving image projections to sustain the illusionistic z-axis depth of the dynamic sets. When guests are apprehended by the First Order and disembark from their seized spacecraft into the launch bay of a Star Destroyer,¹⁵ a massive, IMAX-Esque screen displays a digital projection of space as Tie-Fighters roam just outside the ship (Fig. 7).

As part of this experience, when Resistance fighters infiltrate the spacecraft and aid in the patrons’ escape, the ensuing space battle unfolding just outside the Star Destroyer is exhibited through digital projections (Fig. 8). Pandora and Galaxy’s Edge also utilize lighting techniques that allude to Mateer’s emphasis on differences in visibility being utilized as a means of controlling audience attention. The lighting techniques executed are similar to those that Avatar’s cinematographer, Mauro Fiore, implemented in the film. Fiore’s cinematography relied on contrast and lighting instead of selective focus to direct the viewer’s attention within the space on screen (Prince 2011: 211). While these techniques are not as prominent in the sunlight, nightfall brings the Valley of Mo’ara to life through an abundance of neon radiance pulsating from various plants and structures. Speaking from personal experience, walking through Pandora at night is a spectacular attraction in and of itself. But more importantly, the pulses of light and alternation between various illuminating surfaces also coerce the spectator/camera/character to notice particular “close-ups.” Cameron himself noted how each bioluminescent plant is a guiding light source whose purpose is to manipulate a guest’s attention to various special effects and stunning visual displays.¹⁶

Notably, the sound effects that radiate from the foliage of the Valley of Mo’ara are not a slapdash assemblage of various sounds. Rohde explains how the collection of sounds aim to further engage with the visitor while conveying auditory relationships. For Rohde and his team of Imagineers, it is not enough for a guest to only hear noises surrounding their every move, but rather, the goal is to generate eco-relationships between the creatures.¹⁷ Just how sound engineers and designers purposely pinpoint each sound effect for a 5.1 surround sound system, each noise in Pandora is meticulously and specifically crafted to propose a symbiotic and interconnected ecosystem, testifying to the entire experiences’ underlying message that implies peaceful cohabitation between humans and nature.  

In Galaxy’s Edge, surround sound expresses the boisterous vastness of the land and insinuates the direction of the spectator/camera/character. Periodically, one roaming the environment can hear the take-off of various spacecrafts hovering around the area. The movement of these spacecrafts is implied audibly as sound effects are administered through hidden speakers in a specific pattern to connote proper spatial organization and action. For example, one may hear an engine off in the distance to their right, followed by a woosh of that spacecraft zooming overhead as the audio resonates from right to left. In this sense, the land’s 360-degree audial immersion correlates with surround sound and lossless audio data formats that “provide the full range of sound that filmmakers and sound designers have created” (Prince 2011: 192). The ability to place specific sounds within a 360-degree context manipulates the spectator/camera/character and capitalizes on one’s natural tendency to locate diegetic sounds within a landscape (Mateer 2017: 21).

The respective rides in Pandora and Galaxy’s Edge grant more control as ride vehicles (camera dollies and rigs) and rigid queue lines (predetermined scene blocking) construct a setting similar to that of a film set. Furthermore, the previously delineated visual and audio components and principles maintain the aesthetics of the broader environment. The designers espouse these principles and transition them into self-contained attractions while preserving a similar degree of guidance of the spectator/camera/character. For example, the queue line that guests must wait in for “Na’vi River Journey” is designed as a smooth transition from the expansive Valley of Mo’ara to the confines of an excavation site situated in a cave where the boats await for the aquatic journey. The ride takes a guest through an astonishing, glowing forest and depicts a series of vignettes that showcase the fantastical wildlife thriving amongst Pandora. Surround-sound effects encompass the self-contained environment, while the amalgamation of practical and digital effects connotes a higher sense of tactile realism while also maintaining the aesthetic continuity of the expansive land. The digital animals and Na’vi characters continue to cross side-by-side with the spectator/camera as every diegetic character moves on the z-axis within the three-dimensional space. These effects and motion vectors conjoin to espouse the style of continuity editing between shots. Passing through each scene and viewing digital projections moving in a continuous direction not only establishes temporal and spatial continuity like traditional film editing but also serves as a method for continuously directing the spectator’s gaze on the x-axis through motion vectors as the physical sets gradually transition from scene to scene on the z-axis. Notably, the movement of each projection of moving images synchronizes and maintains continuity with the subject’s physical motion. Even the footage comprising simulation rides is constructed to direct the rider’s vision and perception. Such is the case for “Flight of Passage”¹⁸ as Jupiter states that

VFX design in this format is unique in that it is truly an experience design. Because of the immersive scale, every element has to be composed to support and control the audience’s focus. They are able to look everywhere, but we want them to look where we want them to. Not only for storytelling purposes, but to visually support the illusion of flying on the back of a banshee (McGowan 2018).

To further immerse the spectator/camera/character and heighten the sense of social presence within a CVR context, each land’s cast members¹⁹ are perpetually role-playing as residents of Batuu or employees for ACE — a fictional tourist company operating in partnership with the Na’vi. In Galaxy’s Edge, stormtroopers roam the area monitoring the location and interacting with guests in various manners. In Pandora, an ACE employee might greet someone with “Oel ngati kameie” — a Na’vi greeting that translates to “I see you,” they may point out various Pandora-native foliage and delineate facts about the environment, or they may also entice you to undergo the land’s rides but only refer to them as experiences that coalesce with the diegetic setting. For example, the 4-D simulation ride, Avatar – Flight of Passage, is referred to as a vacationist attraction in which the guest participates in a Na’vi rite of passage through neuralink technology that ACE has implemented with the help of the Na’vi. Likewise, in Galaxy’s Edge, attractions are not referred to by name. Instead, a local merchant could query if you would like to join a crew in piloting the Millennium Falcon on a secret mission.

While there does exist a degree of guidance in a guest’s gaze, the environments do bestow what Darley (2000) calls a vicarious kinaesthesia, which he defines as “the impression of controlling events that are taking place in the present” (157). Darley’s term is serviceable and relevant in considering the exchange of control and freedom one has in experiencing the environment, as the inclusion of the word ‘impression’ in Darley’s definition connotes a sense of ostensible sovereignty. It is this degree of sovereignty that allows for subjective storytelling to manifest through exploration, as the artificial environments evokes one’s ability to construct meaningful narratives.