At the risk of oversimplifying the world, there are two types of kids: outgoing and enthusiastic versus timid and introverted. For our first Millennium Falcon flight at Disneyland's Galaxy's Edge, Karli and I were partnered up with one of each, to the detriment of both the Falcon and our reward money for the mission - which, to be fair, wasn't really their fault.
Smuggler's Run is unique compared to most rides in that the six seats provide different experiences. The two front row seats are pilots, the two behind them are gunners, and the back row is for engineers.* Each role requires specific actions on the part of the riders: the engineers need to keep the ship working, gunners blast their way past barriers and shoot at other ships, and pilots do their best to avoid collisions and position the ship correctly for the mission to succeed. Being a pilot provides the best view, and is arguably the most prestigious assignment.
With that on the table, unless you have the foresight of visiting Disneyland with five friends, you're going to have to do some quick negotiating with whoever you end up with about who does what.** In our case, we were matched with a group of four: two women and (presumably) their six or seven year old children: Emma (Type 1, outgoing and enthusiastic) and Dylan (Type 2, timid and introverted).
Based on position in line, Karli and I would have both been pilots, but we'd both had the opportunity of conning the Falcon on our previous visit, and it seemed unfair to stop the kids from having a chance. However, when we offered to let the two children pilot, Dylan vigourously shook his head and shrank back against his mother in terrified rejection of the prospect. Emma was more eager, and Karli graciously gave up her pilot's seat to her, joining Dylan in the gunner's row and leaving the engineering role to the two women.
As we stood in line, Emma may have started to have some misgivings about her older masked co-pilot - Disney is still recommending masks for inside rides - and gave me a bit of a concerned look. In response, I gave her a thumbs up, which seemed to reassure her. She returned the gesture and confidently told her mother, "I got this!"
She was terrible.
Yes, I know, what did I expect from an seven-year old? Regardless of Emma's life experience to date that might have prepared her for a lightning raid on a First Order supply train - she may be an absolute master of Mario Kart, for example - it does point out one of the shortcomings of what is perhaps Disney's most interactive experience.
Emma may not have actually understood that her actions at the controls of the Falcon would have any effect on the events taking place in front of her, and that's not an odd assumption. There are probably only a couple of rides at Disneyland that give the rider any kind of control over what's going on. You don't have to steer the Incredicoaster, or neck rein the horses on King Arthur's Carrousel. On Toad's Wild Ride, Wild Riders can spin the little steering wheel on their car as much as they want, and it does not make one bit of difference - why would Emma expect that some lunatic would actually give her control over a 25 ton lightspeed capable Corellian freighter?
As a result of Emma's indifference to the controls, we spent a lot of time running into walls and hitting things, in spite of Hondo Ohnaka's increasingly panicked and vehement instructions to the left hand pilot. The resulting damage to the ship put us well in the hole when Hondo calculated our profits from the mission after we'd landed (and presumably made Chewbacca deeply regret his decision to lend us the Falcon).
After we'd exited the ship, Karli told me that Dylan was a terrible gunner, which could have been either due to performance anxiety or, again, simple lack of understanding as to what was expected of him - in this case, perhaps a bit of both.
However, the story does have a happy ending. Karli and I did a follow-up mission two days later, with both of us piloting, and we flew beautifully together. It is a wonderful thing for a science fiction fan to find out that he and his wife are meant to fly starships together.
- Sid
* Based on the first trilogy, there should probably be a row of seats for people who want to just sit there and kvetch.***
** Actually, even if you are there with five friends, there's probably going to be some debate.
*** Kvetch (/kəˈveCH,kfeCH): intransitive verb - to complain habitually: gripe. From Yiddish kvetshn.
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