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Tower of Terror Review

Special media event provides sneak peek into new attraction

Tuesday, April 20, 2004
by Kate Pitroff, contributing writer

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Spoiler warning: Today's article describes in detail everything about the new Tower of Terror attraction at Disney's California Adventure park (which is still being previewed to special audiences), except for some of the core moments of the ride itself.

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I have two “DisneyBuddies”: people who are willing to go to Disneyland Resort with me at a moment's notice. Some time in March, one of the buddies, a radio personality named Sebastian, sent me e-mail to let me know that APTRA (the Associated Press Television-Radio Association of California & Nevada) was having its convention in Anaheim at the Paradise Pier Hotel.

He asked if I'd like to meet him there, along with our other buddy, Sara. And then, as if I needed added encouragement, he shared this section of the convention itinerary:

Friday, April 2 6 – 9 p.m. “Tower Of Terror” Media Preview. Get the first look at the Disneyland Resort's newest attraction, the “Twilight Zone Tower Of Terror” set to open in May. Some of the Imagineers behind the project will be on hand.

That was all the incentive I needed. I had no interest in riding the Tower once it opened—I'm a big chicken, as far as thrill rides are concerned—but I was dying to see the Tower of Terror up close and get a chance to meet some Imagineers. We made plans to meet at the Resort that Friday.

Once we had arrived at the resort and checked into our room at the Paradise Pier Hotel (just refurbished, very nice), we headed down to the convention registration area, on the first floor of the hotel, to meet with the rest of our tour group. All the attendees were wearing metallic holographic plastic wristbands to identify us as part of the group: ours were bright blue.

At 6 p.m., we were debriefed by a cast member, who reminded us that we should not use any recording devices during our tour, including cameras and video equipment. (A forlorn voice piped up from the back of the group: “But we're reporters!”) So warned, we headed out en masse toward the Park, crossing Disneyland Drive and taking the Paradise Walk toward the exclusive entrance for hotel guests.

Our bags were checked and tickets taken at the gate, and we gathered in the alcove near Souvenir 66, making small talk as we waited for the entire party to enter the park. The sun had set, and the lights of the Golden Zephyr shone in the dusk. Once the entire group had entered the park, we stepped out onto the parade route, and saw the Tower of Terror ahead of us. Lit dimly by the waning sunset, its lights flickered purple against the darkened sky behind it, and a sickly pale moon hung above, shrouded in storm clouds. I felt a little queasy. As we walked toward the Tower, unable to take our eyes away from it, I thought for a moment I saw movement. “Guys,” I said uneasily, “I think I just saw an elevator drop.”

Stacks of old-fashioned suitcases and steamer trunks make up the columns of Fastpass dispensing machines for the Tower of Terror attraction. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

We walked through A Bug's Land, and while the theming was enchanting, we could still see the Tower, eerie though the leaves of clover. I tried not to think about the possibility that we might actually ride, distracting myself by examining everything at ground level very carefully—but the Tower still glowered quietly at me each time I glanced upwards.

We exited through a doorway marked “Worker Bees,” crossed a traffic corridor, and passed through another cast member entrance into the plaza in front of the Tower. A bellhop greeted us grimly as we passed the hotel lobby. He was dressed in a snappy uniform—burgundy trousers, golden yellow jacket, and burgundy pillbox hat—but his face was done in macabre makeup. He did not look healthy. Over his shoulder we could glimpse the detailed lobby's opulent decay. Other bellhops stood in rank to our left, wearing burgundy trousers, topped with a double-breasted burgundy duster, decorated with gold buttons and piping across the chest.

The entrance to the Hollywood Tower Hotel does not look too foreboding... Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

We were led to what I assume will serve as the outer queue, a lovely Spanish/Mission-style courtyard covered by a heavy wood-beam trellis that was threaded with gnarled flowering vines. Simple lanterns on the support pillars provided soft light. The area was set with a dozen or so tall cocktail tables, covered with burgundy cloths, and each held a few votive candles and a centerpiece of calla lilies. We were met by a line of servers holding tray after tray of hors d'oeuvres: shrimp with fresh guacamole, savory beef wrapped in flaky puff pastry, crostini, tiny cakes of lemon risotto; and another friendly server offered us punch in Deco martini glasses. The glasses held a red LED in the base, so our drinks (and our faces) glowed eerily as we sipped them.

Easels holding the concept art for the attraction surrounded the patio, as well as several flat-screen TVs that displayed the Hollywood Tower Hotel logo. A jazz quartet, dressed in sleeveless bellhop uniforms with white shirts underneath, played big-band favorites in one corner. As we munched happily and took in the scene, the macabre bellhop greeted each table with appropriate foreboding (He looked at us nervously, and then smiled and said “Thanks for… dropping in,” with a look that made us delightedly uneasy).

To one side of the patio, a photo opportunity had been set up, with projection screen lit with a drawing of the Tower as a backdrop. We headed over to have our photo taken, and as we returned we found that one of the many Imagineers in attendance had introduced himself and his compatriots (we missed their names), and welcomed us to the event.

We then saw a short promo film—I imagine it will be a television commercial—that gave us the back story of the attraction and a taste of the thrills in store. Once the promo was over, our host announced that while the ride was not scheduled to open to the public for another month, it had been turned over for final testing two days previously, and since it had passed inspection and completed the testing process—they were going to allow us to be the first “civilians” to experience the Tower of Terror. My heart jumped. I hadn't planned for that. Before I could begin to get nervous and persuade myself not to ride, our bellhop took the microphone and announced that parties would experience the Tower according to the color of their wristbands. The first group to ride…

…I held my breath…

…were to be those wearing blue wristbands.

I looked down at my wrist, shocked and dismayed, as my friends pulled me toward certain doom. I couldn't back out: how often does an opportunity like this come along? I swallowed hard and smiled at the line of Imagineers and cast members who waited along the route to the lobby to greet us. We walked quickly through the lobby to a set of doors to the right of the hotel desk, marked “Library.”

Considerable detail has gone into the theming for the attraction, including the lighting in the interior queue area. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

Once our party had assembled in the lobby, a bellhop opened the wood doors and ushered us into the library. I was distracted by the incredibly detailed theming, and once I had regained my wits, I realized that the doors had shut behind us quite firmly. My fate was sealed. I tried to reassure myself by taking in the library's details: walls lined with books, of course, in elaborate enclosed bookcases; curiosities along the top of the cases—spooky masks and sculptures; and a plush, faded oriental rug on the floor.

Lightning flashed outside the window, and as the thunder crashed the lamps dimmed. There seemed to be quite a storm outside. Suddenly a loud crack of thunder extinguished all the lights in the room, and in the darkness, a video screen in the corner crackled to life. Rod Serling himself greeted us, and told us the story of the Hollywood Tower Hotel; how it stood like a jewel among the heyday of 1939 Hollywood, how it was struck by lightning as four guests and an unfortunate bellhop rode in the doomed elevator, and how the elevator and the guests inside disappeared forever. He then invited us to take our own ride. The lights came up, a door opened on the opposite side of the room, and we were escorted from the library down into the Boiler Room.

The boiler in the boiler room looks angry enough to come alive. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

The boiler room was simultaneously immense and claustrophobic, filled with a tangle of pipes and machinery. A huge boiler, looking for all the world like an angry face, growled in one corner. A desk, scattered with personal effects, waited near the end of the queue, obviously abandoned suddenly over 60 years ago.

The boiler room is full of a tangle of pipes and machinery. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

A cast member arranged us into lines, and we were escorted into our elevator. Three or four rows of seats faced the elevator doors, tiered like stadium seats. Each seat had a belt much like those on Indiana Jones Adventure and Star Tours, and, as I found out later, the end seats featured a hand grip. The doors closed, and our elevator rumbled to life.

The service elevator awaits visitors to the new attraction. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

I won't give you the details of the ride experience itself—I don't want to spoil it, and I don't remember the details clearly enough to recount them accurately. Quite frankly, I was too busy screaming to take mental notes. I do know that we went weightless twice; and I was impressed with the ride effects—they served to further the story quite neatly. I also know I've never screamed so loud, so long, and so fervently in my life.

We returned to the boiler room and were able to leave our elevator, and walked through a circular exit room containing photo screens showing our honest reactions to the attraction. I was too dazed to notice, however, and we wobbled through the gift shop at the exit, which was curtained off to conceal the attraction merchandise already on the shelves.

The gift shop, now open for those who visit the attraction, provides various souvenirs to remind guests of their stay at the Hollywood Tower Hotel. Note the continued theming in the shop from the queue area of the ride. Photo by Adrienne Vincent-Phoenix.

A cast member waited nearby to assure we couldn't peek behind the curtains; while more cast members eagerly asked our opinion: “What did you think? Would you ride again?” Once outside, I fell to my knees and kissed the ground, then wandered over to the bar on the patio for a stiff shot of Sprite. A kind and attentive cast member found some replacement martini glasses for us, as ours had been removed once we had left the reception.

Once the adrenaline wore off slightly, we were able to chat with a few Imagineers, which I felt was the most inspiring feature of the evening. These are people who love what they do, and love answering questions about their work, and their pride in the attraction was readily apparent. We met the art designer on the project (Cory Sewelson), as well as the architect (Coulter Winn) and the show writer (Michael [we couldn't discover his last name online, but he was also the writer responsible for the original Tower at Walt Disney World]). It was fascinating to learn about how each team interacts with each other to make the attraction work within the goals set for it. Michael mentioned that Michael Eisner wanted to be sure the people outside the ride could see and hear the people inside, so the architect needed to adjust his designs accordingly, and he needed to write the design changes into the show script.

After all the groups had experienced the Tower at least once, we were allowed to return for another ride if we liked. Sebastian jumped at the chance, and Sara and I tagged along, taking the time to examine the theming in the lobby as the doors to the library shut behind him.

The lobby was reminiscent of that of the Roosevelt in Hollywood, including exposed thick wood-beam ceiling supports, stained to a dark brown. A huge fireplace graced the far end of the lobby, while an expansive check-in desk ran along the right side, flanked by the Library doors. Glass cases of period knickknacks stood outside the Library entrances, with tiny cards suggesting a visit to the hotel Gift Shop. Chunks of plaster were missing from the walls, revealing the wood slats underneath. A porcelain doll lay abandoned on one of the many sofas; piles of steamer trunks were scattered about; desks with Deco lamps stood in the corners of the room; and everything looked like it was shrouded in a thick layer of dust.

The library doors reopened, and we were able to take a closer look at everything inside, including a desk holding a mah-jongg set and a heavy Egyptian Deco lamp. We learned we could walk through the boiler room without having to ride, so we took another walk toward the elevators, appreciating the rust on the pipes, the signs on the walls, and the photos and papers on the desk. The circular exit room also held more display cases set into the walls that held vintage radio sets and other electric items, and old photographs. Everything appeared to have been abandoned suddenly long ago, and then left untouched for decades. As we stepped outside the second time, we were escorted through what I imagine will be the entrance of the attraction into the Fastpass distribution point. I finally turned my eyes from the Tower, and we exited onto Hollywood Boulevard, incredulous and awestruck.

The experience as a whole left me with mixed feelings. I know that, even as a Passholder, I wouldn't ever have had the chance to attend a similar event for free. Disney's symbiotic relationship with the media has its perks, I suppose. But I was proud to see that the spit-and-polish I've always associated with Disney is still there; and it was gratifying to see the eager anticipation on the faces of the cast members and Imagineers as we saw the results of their hard work for the first time. I saw a real pride in the Resort embodied in them, and I hope that, as we approach Disneyland's 50th anniversary, that will translate into real magic.

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