Continuing my trek through Asia, I left Tokyo, Japan to spend a week at the Hong Kong Disneyland Resort. This is the company's newest theme park (opened on September 12, 2005) and it is also the smallest of all the Magic Kingdom-style Disney Parks. Sitting on reclaimed land in Penny's Bay, Lantau Island, the resort has a somewhat unique development model.
Rather than being owned outright by foreign capital (as is the case in Tokyo with The Oriental Land Company) or by a consortium of publicly traded stock, outside investors and Disney (the case in Paris with Euro Disney S.C.A.), Hong Kong Disneyland (HKDL) is jointly owned by the Walt Disney Company and the government of Hong Kong, via Hong Kong International Theme Parks Ltd. Even more interesting, the government is the majority shareholder; it is unusual for Disney to cede this kind of control to a civil authority (but this was probably a de facto condition of the ownership negotiations).
HKDL differs from its sister resorts in a few key ways, the most notable being the omission of a Frontierland archetype. This is not for lack of interest; the Chinese find the American Wild West just as exotic and exciting as the Japanese and the French. More likely a development of this kind is being reserved for a future expansion—the Disney Company learned the hard way with the Disneyland Paris project that they had built too much too soon (a very expensive proposition).
As a result, the park exudes caution at every turn—from a smaller initial masterplan, to an emphasis on tried-and-true design solutions. Though the interpretations of the classic Disney Park thematic archetypes vary somewhat, overall the park lacks originality; hopefully this will change with future additions (Disney officials promises that two “unique lands” are not far off on the horizon).
The other classic Disney themes (Main Street U.S.A., Adventureland, Fantasyland and Tomorrowland) remain, with the tropical paradise jungles of Adventureland being by far the largest. This area's waterways replaces the frontier Rivers of America moat-and-island model seen at the other parks with a route for the classic Jungle Cruise attraction.
On the island still sits an exploratory playground accessible by raft, but instead of Tom Sawyer or pirates, a Tarzan's Treehouse (similar to the theme of the Disneyland attraction, itself a 1999 update to the classic 1962 Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse) rises high above Adventureland's subtropical skyline.
Adventureland feels most authentic here in Hong Kong, because the resort lies at a latitude that can provide the proper sub-tropical climate for a thriving jungle. It’s only been nearly three years since the park opened—making the planned vegetation itself about four years old—but the growth appears to be double or triple that, with much of the foliage completely indigenous. Florida’s Magic Kingdom experienced similar plant proliferation in its early years (owing to that region’s own heavy rains and humidity), but the original jungles of Anaheim took far longer to settle in.
The subtropics of Hong Kong’s Lantau Island seem out of place elsewhere at HKDL, however. Unlike the desert wasteland that provides Las Vegas with little visual competition—or the easily sculpted orange groves of Anaheim, for that matter—the thick vegetation presents a strong sense of external ‘place’ for the park. In Fantasyland and Tomorrowland, there is a certain disconnect that I suppose, given the park’s location, was inevitable. You might think that the thick vegetation of Florida would have caused a similar disconnect at Walt Disney World, but my impression of the Magic Kingdom there is that Disney spent considerable time (and money) clearing trees and brush away from the park’s perimeter and berm—so much so that you only see the surrounding everglades from the highest vantages.
Disney does, however, leverage this as a design asset in not only Adventureland, but also at the Hong Kong Disneyland Hotel, which sits just outside the park. Built in the style of a nineteenth century grand Victorian resort (similar to the Grand Floridian at Walt Disney World, the Disneyland Hotel at the Paris resort, and the new Disneyland Hotel in Tokyo), the structure nods to the sprawling English, French and Portuguese colonial estates of Southeast Asia.
Seeing the turret tops of the hotel poke through the thick jungle foliage is a charming nod to the region's quaint—albeit tainted—colonial past. The thematic design is made complete by the naturally landscaped setting of Lantau Island, with its green hills and rocky shoreline.
Conversely, I stayed at Disney's Hollywood Hotel down the street (because frankly, it was the far less expensive option) which clashed unpleasantly with its surroundings. The thematic design of the hotel itself—done in a Los Angeles golden era Art Deco style (1920s–1940s)—is executed decently enough, showcasing the usual level of detail and subtlety that Disney is known for.
Yet without the palm tree-lined boulevards and the endless brownish sprawl of Southern California, the theme falls flat. Given the tropical setting, seeing its blue and gold rooftop rise above the lush green skyline is as disconcerting as the Hong Kong Disneyland Hotel’s pink victorian spires are charming.
The natural setting and indigenous vegetation of where a thematic environment is built greatly affects how the design is perceived. A vacuum, although lacking in charm, is probably ideal—think how even more fake and cheap the Las Vegas strip would feel in the shadow of the grand canyon’s effortless majesty.
The thick jungles of Lantau Island—and moreover, the tall, rolling green hills—present an attractive backdrop, for sure, but provide an uneasy staging for the park’s multiple thematic spaces.
Sometimes the effect is better, but more often, it’s a subtle (and omnipresent) distraction. HKDL's castle feels dwarfed by the high ridge line behind it. This ridge disrupts the entire scaling of the park—including Disney’s famous forced-perspective architectural techniques—making it feel like a miniature model of a theme park rather than the real thing.
In this regard, it's the forest that makes it hard to see the trees.