Backstage Disneyland: The Secret's Out: Disney characters are real and they live behind the scenes at Disneyland (2 page)

"We must crush this rebellion with one swift stroke," says Darth, barely able to keep a straight face.
 

Indy lets out a laugh as he grabs two frosty mugs of beer off the serving tray of a passing waitress smelling of sickly-sweet perfume.

"It's not funny," says Darth, laughing to himself.
 

Indy slides a beer over to Buzz, knowing that Darth doesn't drink. The familiar taste of hops and malt hit the spot after another long day.
 

"Yeah, it kind of is," Indy says, mimicking Darth. "We must crush this rebellion with one swift stroke."

“Sorry,” says Darth in his distinctive ventilator rasp. “Sometimes I forget I’m backstage.”

Most of the Disney characters have a distinctly different backstage personality compared to their onstage persona. Like actors playing roles, they relax and reveal their true selves when the stage lights dim and the audience exits the arena. But they can’t completely take off the mask and turn off the performer. The role and the player are one

“Happens to us all,” says a melancholy Buzz, taking a long drag on his beer.

Some characters never turn their onstage personas off - cranking them up instead. Roger Rabbit bounds by, bouncing from table to table babbling in rapid-fire snippets of nonsensical blather punctuated by his high-octane laugh.

“Some more than others,” Buzz says.

Indy has been dreaming for months of completely turning off his archaeology professor-turned-adventurer and becoming someone else entirely.

"We still need to come up with a way to stop Star Wars Land," says Darth, reasserting his rage and pounding his fist again.

"Hey man, watch the beer," Indy says, catching his teetering mug before it tips over. "We get it. You're upset."

"After the kickoff there will be no way of derailing this thing," Darth says.

Buzz wipes spilt beer off his plastic space suit as his glass rolls around on the table in front of him. Indy grabs Buzz a replacement beer from a passing waitress. It’s no accident waitress rhymes with temptress, seductress, enchantress and goddess. The presence of Gaston’s busty blonde bimbettes serving as waitresses only reinforces how few women are in Club 33. With a few rare exceptions, the after-hours watering hole is a boys-only club.

"There's nothing we can do now," says Buzz, trying to sooth Darth but only stoking his fury.
 

“That’s unacceptable,” says Darth, clenching his fist. "We've got to come up with a plan to ruin this kickoff party."

What Indy doesn’t want to tell Darth is that he’s actually excited about the new Star Wars Land. With the expanded universe of characters, Indy hopes to play Han Solo.

A cheer goes up in the middle of the room as the Disney sidekicks put the finishing touch on a towering beer cup pyramid. Olaf the snowman wobbles wildly as he stands on top of a dwarf pyramid, nearly tipping over the just-completed cup pyramid.

"What about Woody and the Toys?" Buzz asks, trying to be helpful.
 

"The last thing we need is any help from your Pixar Pals," Darth says with a sneer.
 

"Maybe if it was Mickey's idea," says a self-pitying Buzz.
 

Mickey works the room like a campaigning politician - shaking hands, slapping backs, making promises and securing favors. The rodent powerbroker never forgets who he is, what he represents, who he needs or what he wants. Indy throws his arm around the broad plastic shoulders of a bummed Buzz.

"That's alright, buddy," says Indy, patting Buzz on the back. "I think it's a great idea."

Roger bounces from table to table in his characteristic red overalls, blue polka dot bow tie and yellow gloves. He knocks over the cup pyramid to jeers and spills his beer down the back of Jafar, who unsuccessfully tries to grab the frenetic bunny by the ears.
 

"Five aces?" says Roger, looking over Leota's crystal ball. "Is that good?"

Everyone at the poker table groans and folds their cards, much to the consternation of Leota.
 

"What about Roger?" Darth asks.
 

"What about Roger?" Roger asks, brimming with excitement.
 

"He's certainly good at destroying things," Darth says.
 

Roger pulls an enormous mallet from his back pocket and slams it down on the poker table, sending chips and drinks flying everywhere. The hammer rebounds and strikes Roger in the face. Knocked unconscious, Roger lies on the floor with tweeting birds and twinkling stars circling over his head.
 

"You can't be serious," Indy says. "You really want to trust your diabolical plan to Roger Rabbit?"

The look on Darth's face speaks volumes. Roger won’t work.
 

From across the room, a string of invectives ring out as the playing card guards from “Alice in Wonderland” bully their way across the restaurant, pushing characters aside with their spears. Accompanied by a blast of military brass, the soldiers with playing card bodies and human heads, arms and legs march in teeter-totter fashion with a solitary target in sight.

“Buzz Lightyear,” the King of Spades barks as every spear lowers in unison toward the spaceman. “You’re coming with us.”
 

3

Exile on Main Street USA

The King of Spades snaps custom-made handcuffs on Buzz Lightyear as all the other Disney characters in Club 33 pause to watch. Everyone in the pin-drop quiet private club-turned-beer hall stares at the condemned space ranger, shoulders slumped and spirit shattered.

"Buzz Lightyear," bellows the King of Spades. "By order of the Queen of Hearts, I hearby banish you to Pixar World for the night."

Accepting of his nightly fate, Buzz bows his head as two playing card guards grab him roughly by the elbows in a saber-rattling show of force.
 

Roger Rabbit leaps up on the table and grabs Buzz by the shoulders, trying to shake some backbone into the submissive spaceman.
 

"You don't have to take this," Roger says, slapping the spineless spaceman across the face. "You're Buzz Lightyear of Star Command."

Indiana Jones tries to restrain Roger, who continues slapping Buzz. You’d think by now Roger would realize there’s nothing that can be done. But the rabbit never learns.

"Snap out of it, man," Roger screams.

Indy lifts the flailing bunny off the table and throws him on the floor in a heap at Mickey Mouse's feet.
 

"We go through this every night, Roger," an exasperated Indy says. "They come to arrest Buzz, you slap him silly and nothing changes."

Roger hops up on a chair and points an accusatory finger in the face of a cigar-chomping Mickey.
 

"You could do something about this if you wanted to," says Roger, nose to nose with Mickey.
 

Mickey blows a cloud of smoke in Roger's face, sending the choking bunny tumbling backward onto a table full of drinks. The commotion stirs Buzz from his sedentary state of acceptance.
 

"Yeah, Mickey," says Buzz, equal parts wounded and weary. "You could put an end to this."

Sensing trouble, the teeter-tottering guards surround Buzz and Emperor Zurg with spears at the ready.
 

"Chill, dude," Zurg whispers to Buzz in his robotic electronic voice.
 

Gnawing on his cigar, Mickey tries to balance a show of power with a display of compassion. Indy wouldn’t want to be in his big yellow shoes - making an endless stream of guests happy all day and keeping a ragtag bunch of characters in line every night.

"Trust me, Buzz," Mickey says. "This goes higher than me or the Queen of Hearts."

The King of Spades shoves Mickey in the chest with the shaft of his spear.

"Watch your tongue mouse," the King sputters.
 

His pride wounded and his authority challenged, Mickey pushes the King of Spades backward into the soldiers surrounding Buzz and Zurg, knocking the playing cards down like a row of toppling dominoes.
 

Sensing trouble, Darth Vader rises from his seat and separates Mickey and the King of Spades, who square off in fighting stances.
 

"Buzz, why don't you head home for the night," Darth says, restoring order. "And Indy, you go with them. Just to keep the peace."

A pathway clears in the crowded room as the armed playing cards lead Buzz toward the exit. Close behind, a straight flush of cards escorts a shackled Zurg, equally resigned to his nightly fate. An over-zealous guard pokes Buzz in the back with the spade-shaped point on the end of his spear.
 

"That's not necessary," Indy says, batting away the spear.
 

"It kind of tickles," Buzz says with a smile, his first of the night.
 

All Buzz really wants is someone to care about him, to prop him up, to have his back. Indy has always been there for Buzz. Except that one time, when he betrayed his best friend. But Buzz doesn’t know about that.

At the antique glass-enclosed elevator, the shackled Buzz and Zurg step inside leaving little to no room for the guards. A single card turns sideways and slides into a thin space as the elevator doors close. The remaining cards hustle down the stairs surrounding the elevator, keeping their spears trained on the prisoners when they aren't tripping over each other. The Ace of Spades bumps into a bust on a gold-leafed pedestal in the corner, sending the ivory lady tumbling down the stairs.

Descending the stairs behind the card guards, Indy steps over the shattered ivory littering the blue mosaic tile floor emblazoned with a gold shield bearing a black “33.” Courteous but curt, the Club 33 hostess waits with Indy's gun, knife and whip, in hopes of emptying the lobby as quickly as possible.
 

"You're weapons, Mr. Jones," the hostess says, her voice trembling.
 

"I better leave those here," Indy says.

Outside Club 33, the graveyard shift has kicked into overdrive. Utility carts carrying supplies navigate the narrow streets of New Orleans Square normally occupied solely by pedestrians during the day. Small teams busily paint, repair, clean and polish every square inch of the themed land. You’d think Le Bat en Rouge specialized in witch supplies based on the scarecrows, skulls and cauldrons displayed in the store window.

Moving at a steady clip, the guards and prisoners weave past cast members restocking the stores and kiosks in Adventureland. Nobody notices the familiar nightly routine of imprisoned Disney characters marching through the park under the watch of armed guards. Just inside the South Sea Traders gift shop, the glowing bamboo kiosk housing Shrunken Ned’s shrunken head waits to diagnose illnesses and dispense souvenirs.

At the castle hub, one of the guard's radios crackles to life.
 

"Innoventions secure," says the disembodied voice on the radio. "Marvel characters on lockdown."

The stilled planets above Astro Orbitor and the kinetic sculpture atop the old PeopleMover station dot the darkened skyline of Tomorrowland. In the distance, a glowing force field surrounds the Innoventions building at the back of futuristic themed land. Buzz's shackles clank in the crisp night air.
 

"I'll feel so much safer when those Marvel guys get their own land," says the Three of Spades, without breaking stride.
 

"You and me both, brother," says the Two of Spades.

On Main Street USA, the pace is even more frenetic. Like a colony of ants, the perfectly-organized work crews move up and down the street in a ballet of organized chaos while buffing the gingerbread-trimmed Victorian storefronts to a high polish.

"Go back where you belong, Buzz Lightyear," Oswald the Rabbit yells from the Market House.
 

A bunch of Yesterlanders gather around a cast iron pot belly stove for their nightly game of checkers inside the old general store. The mostly-forgotten old-school characters rarely appear in the park anymore and prefer to keep to themselves. Indy feels bad for Buzz, who acknowledges the cantankerous has-been with a nod. The spaceman goes through the same shame every night with the grace of a saint. Clarabelle Cow punches Oswald in the shoulder with her hoof.
 

"Pay him no mind," Clarabelle hollers in a Southern drawl. "You take care, Buzz."

Across the street at the Penny Arcade, crews on crane-like cherry pickers replace an entire section of lights rimming the archway of the building, a nightly ritual repeated whenever a set of bulbs reaches 80% of their life. The goal, as Walt Disney set forth, is for the guests to never see one of the 10,000 lightbulbs on Main Street USA burnt out.
 

Turning the corner at the Emporium, Indy looks up at the lone light glimmering in the window of Walt Disney's apartment above the fire station. Walt would never put up with his characters being treated like this.
 

Emerging from the tunnel, the formation of playing card guards are greeted by a phalanx of Pixar characters hovering at the wrought iron gate next to Disneyland's entry pavilion. Across the promenade glows the Art Deco entrance to Disney California Adventure, disparagingly referred to as Pixar World by Disneylanders. The space between the two parks serves as a demilitarized zone, the Disneyland gates the Berlin Wall.

"Where have you been?" a clearly perturbed Sheriff Woody asks no one in particular. "You're late."

Woody is all cock of the walk from the tilt of his hand-sewn cowboy hat to the star-shaped badge on his cowhide vest to the gold spurs on his boots. The guy thinks he is to Pixar what Mickey is to Disney. His ego’s bigger than his oversized head. The King of Spades shoves Buzz up against the gate, much to the consternation of Indy.
 

"You can blame this one," the King of Spades says.
 

"Figures," Woody says, spitting tobacco on the ground. "And they call him an action figure."

Behind Woody, a squadron of Green Army Men stand guard around Ariel the mermaid princess, Aladdin the street rat and the big blue Genie. Established by military decree, the nightly prisoner exchange bears all the tension of a confrontation between North and South Korea.