Repeat after me: It's only a theme-park attraction. It's only a theme-park attraction. It's only a theme-park attraction.
The pre-opening hype engendered higher expectations. First, there were those pre-opening slogans about "bringing Broadway to the theme parks" and vice versa: This vehicle was touted as having Great White Way ambitions. Then there was all that opening-night hoopla: the free-flowing champagne and lavish food spread, the complementary afternoon at Disney's California Adventure, the free valet parking, all those cameras and searchlights. Amid all this, the visually dazzling but otherwise forgettable 40-minute stage adaptation of Disney's enormously popular animated film seemed like an anticlimax.
Ironically, in slashing the story and music to less than half the length of the film and surrounding what's left with gobs of color, lighting tricks, and stage magic, the creators of this opulent cream-puff manage to diminish our memories of the original. Among the smash Disney musical cartoons of the 1990s, Beauty and the Beast had mythic resonance and a Broadway-caliber score to recommend it, and The Lion King had universal appeal in its heartwarming story; Aladdin's sole claim to fame was Robin Williams' improvisation-developed shtick as the voice of the wisecracking Genie. The skimpy score and even thinner story weren't the film's strong points. This theme park version, as produced by new Disney impresario Anne Hamburger, helmed by opera director Francesca Zambello, and adapted by writer Chad Beguelin, reduces material that was already featherweight to utter negligibility.
To give a proper perspective in terms of this show's aspirations to a Broadway sensibility, let's just say it has less substance than an Andrew Lloyd Webber opus and makes the tedious pageantry of The Lion King seem revelatory by comparison. The first sign of trouble occurs when the best of the original Alan Menken/Howard Ashman/Tim Rice songs, the opening "Arabian Nights," is thrown away after a few bars. What follows is less a Reader's Digest riff on the original than a trailer. The playbill lists two actors for each character, and press materials didn't identify who played the roles on opening night. But no matter: This isn't a performer's vehicle, it's a show about actors flying on a magic carpet above our heads, elephants parading through the auditorium, tons of elaborate scenery flying in and out with clockwork precision, and a blue-faced genie spouting corny anachronisms.
We'd be remiss not to mention the extraordinary accomplishments of set designer Peter J. Davison, costumer Anita Yavitch, lighting designer Mark McCullough, and puppet designers Yavitch and Michael Curry. Those seeking a halfway-involving book or a memorable score should look elsewhere. But park attendees weary of walking and reeling from paying $5 for a McDonald's burger--there's no dollar menu in the Magic Kingdom--might find it a godsend to rest for 40 minutes and stare at a dizzying orgy of eye-candy.