I start this review not after I’ve experienced the park, but before I’ve even boarded my plane. It’s not often that I have the chance to speak genuinely with my limited audience before the bias of experience burdens my opinion.
This isn’t to say that I find my previous reviews invalid, but I recognize the impressive burden that lies on the shoulder of any critic attempting to conquer the daunting task of reviewing Galaxy’s Edge. Without having been to the park, I’ve been witness to endless debate over not only the quality of the experience but the climate surrounding the series as it moves beyond the final film. Despite maintaining cultural relevance for the past forty years, Star Wars has experienced turmoil from within the central fanbase surrounding the direction taken by Disney, who acquired the brand in 2012. The films are more popular than ever, constantly smashing box office records, but fans are a fickle bunch unable to be pleased without being pandered to directly.
It’s with this context that one comes to understand the inherent bias behind all Galaxy’s Edge reporting. Sources will deliver information to whichever subgroup predominantly views their site, with some taking a critical stance on Disney’s decisions following backlash on The Last Jedi, while others offer the opposite view to appease that bubble of fanatic discourse. Audiences must be informed that the information shown on social media comes from a spot of bias and unreliable narratives. It’s common to see detractors post empty pictures, decrying the land a failure, while diehard apologists respond with angles showing the exact opposite.
Somehow this land is both the most popular, least trafficked, most loved and biggest failure in Disney Parks history. People who consistently love everything Disney releases call new attractions “breakthroughs” in the industry, while a certain subset of Star Wars fans continuously devise a narrative where Disney is not only afraid of but hurt by the economic and social failure of this park. The discourse surrounding Galaxy’s Edge has been toxic from all perspectives, seeking to satiate fans rather than critically discuss a new theme park venture.
Understanding these biases, I find myself in a particular position to view Galaxy’s Edge in the most critical of lights. Unlike most of the contributors to the Disney community, I don’t care about Star Wars anymore. None of the sequel films lifted my emotions beyond a passing acceptance, and I find a majority of the films to be average blockbusters worthy of very little attention. I didn’t hate The Last Jedi, but I didn’t love it either. I don’t have any problem critiquing Disney’s failures as I do praising their successes. With this neutrality to both Disney and the Star Wars series, my critique of Galaxy’s Edge should come from a perspective separate from most fandom subsets.
This opens up a separate diatribe about the discourse around Galaxy’s Edge as it pertains to fan polarization and political domination in the minor, relative sense. Articles are not made to develop discussion, but as intellectual real estate, where creators spit out 10 minutes of talk or text to give the impression that their side has some validity in the pure quantity of content. This is not only worthless to anyone actually looking for information on the subject but toxic to the artform itself in the way it treats real art like an object, so meaningless that it can be torn apart as a martyr.
Please understand, this is a full breakdown of Galaxy’s Edge from the perspective of a theme park critic. No amount of Star Wars pandering or Disney cinematic flubs will impact my opinion of the park. A review this is not, more an encyclopedia on my experience with a central message of recommendation.
On January 21st, 2020, at 2:50 in the morning, the looming thought on my mind is the impending fear of a simple boarding pass.
The Boarding Pass
By far the most important aspect of my experience that I wanted to ensure I capitalized on was the new Rise of the Resistance attraction. Despite being open for over a month, the attraction’s capacity and the procedure is limited by a simple boarding pass process, given to guests at park opening through the My Disney Experience app as equally as possible. It might not be inherently fair to all guests visiting Hollywood Studios on one particular day, but the process is an attempt nonetheless.
To guarantee a boarding pass for the attraction, guests need to arrive at the park gates and enter before 7 am. As long as you’ve entered the park by 7, you can open the app at the top of the hour and secure yourself a boarding pass to be redeemed at some point during the day. It’s simple enough, but the time at which guests need to arrive at the park is purely random. Remember, you need to get there early enough that your spot in a growing line at least guarantees that you enter the gates before 7:00. It doesn’t matter how early you enter the gates, simply that you’re inside before the park opens.
Whether it was a result of anxiety or necessity is to be determined, but I found myself planning for an early awakening just to guarantee my spot. It’s 4:30 am, and fear began to run down my spine. Nothing about these extreme efforts and sacrifices would guarantee my spot in line and, if anything, only served to make the crushing blow of defeat much worse. My group left the hotel at 5:30, arrived on the property at 5:45, and entered the huddled mass at 6. Despite the 34 degrees weather and ungodly hour, hundreds of people crowded around the turnstiles desperate to get in. It’s a surprise that this many tourists decided to wake up this early, let alone to see a Star Wars ride.
Cast Members were desperate to wrangle these guests into single file lines in front of the entrance, but that didn’t stop various cries of difficulty from dominating the crowd. Many guests seemed anxious about the app and were talking amongst their family about the strategic gameplan necessary to secure a pass. Others aimed their downcast eyes towards the minimum wage laborers, hoping to get an official edge on the competition.
It’s 6:20. The lines extend beyond the ticket booth and into security. It’s questionable whether the people in the back will even make it beyond the gates by 7. The cast try to tell Star Wars-themed jokes to calm the audience down but new lines opening along the perimeter start the pushing contest. I can’t feel my hands. I can’t feel my feet. I can’t see my breath.
It’s 6:30, and the cast members begin letting guests into the park. Not all guests, as for some reason they’ve limited entrance to those with a MagicBand or some other form of ticketing. I can’t say for sure what it was, but I did have to watch an older woman approach the front of this line from hell and be turned to the ticketing booth as they weren’t accepting her format at this time. If anything visually encapsulates the exclusionary depression of this system, it’s that.
It’s 6:40. Guests should remember that upon entering the park, you have the opportunity to go wherever you want to secure a boarding pass. Ryan O’Reilly told me that standing in an area with limited traffic will keep stress off your cellular network, but I chose to join the huddled mass at the Hyperion Theater. Here, guests will be led to Batuu at park opening, and cast members are at the ready for any guests needing assistance with their smartphone. Those looking for reassurance should talk to these experts before, as after the passes become available, the collection window is far too limited to be guided through by someone else.
It’s 6:45. Hordes of people are clustered together, waiting for the passes to come online. My hands are starting to shake out of anxiety, particularly in my fear that I would’ve gotten up at 4:30 for no good reason. Cast members are asking guests to have the app open at 6:55 and continue updating from that point on. It doesn’t help, but might give you something to do as you wait out the longest five minutes of your life. I have the app open to the status page, and I catch guests staring at my screen to find this vaguely easy process for refreshing on their own. The crowd extends beyond Echo Lake and out to the Chinese Theater.
It’s 6:59. A message comes on the loudspeaker announcing that boarding passes will be released momentarily on the My Disney Experience App. Continuing to refresh, the button turns orange, I select my group, and the boarding pass is added to my plans. After a sigh of relief (and a victory scream), I begin to talk with groups around me. It seems like (as expected) most of the people in the park got a boarding pass, with some given a backup in hopes of a clean operating day.
A couple of tips.
With a boarding pass in hand, I was free to explore Batuu without the anxieties of missing the star attraction.
Before discussing Rise of the Resistance, I’d like to cover the rest of the land and the adventures inside. Due to its immense size and complex system of operation, I think it makes the most sense to cover the rest of Galaxy’s Edge first and detail Rise of the Resistance as a cap to the experience rather than just another spoke of the land. Its technological prowess and position in theme park history requires too much attention to be treated like a simple attraction at the opening of new land.
Batuu
Given the variety of experiences present on the Black Spire Outpost, it’s important to detail each individually and sum the positives when judging Batuu as a whole. Despite the limited space in the land, the extensive amount of content at the ready for guests provides an immersive experience that dominates the senses.
Millennium Falcon: Smuggler’s Run
When Galaxy’s Edge opened to the public, it did so with only one attraction, drawing guests into the immersive world of Star Wars. Boarding the classic spaceship, guests are tasked with completing a coaxium run with Hondo Ohnaka, a character known in the extended universe TV shows.
Star Wars superfans should find immense joy in entering the Falcon, seeing the chessboard, feeling the walls, and piloting the most iconic ship in the galaxy. In a manner similar to Mission: Space, groups of six are divided into three distinct jobs: pilots, gunners, and engineers, each tasked with keeping the Falcon in good condition or to make a lot of money breaking it.
When riding the attraction, the reaction will be heavily dependent on your connection to the source material. If you find the Falcon to be a memorable part of your life, or inherently valued as a piece of pop culture history, the immersive task of piloting the ship will certainly be a delight. Every job leaves the impression of control, and guests are guaranteed to leave with the feeling that they actually had an impact on the Falcon’s operations.
One of the prevalent themes throughout this review, however, will be an analysis from the perspective of a non-fan. In a world where Star Wars has diminishing cultural relevance, it’s important to recognize the value of these experiences to the general public. Smuggler’s Run might immerse fans, but non-fans may recognize the constant technical glitches and lack of enjoyment throughout the attraction. Should you have no premeditated interest in the Falcon, guests placed in the Gunner or Engineer position may recognize how distracting these jobs are. The Gunner’s manual aim feels imprecise, and the Engineer is forced to dart their eyes between the screen and flashing buttons at a rate inverse to the pilot’s skills. Where guests may want to enjoy the footage on-screen akin to experiences like Star Tours, most will focus on a wall of buttons.
Having to distract attention between these focus points might be difficult, but the unforgivable number of visual glitches surprised me the most. Running on a large-scale and tasking form of the Unreal Engine, the attraction requires intense computing synchronized with all the attraction’s controls. My first experience seemed fine, but I noticed extreme slowdown and a couple of instances of frame skipping on my second. A fan would shrug these moments off as they’re *in* THE FALCON, but most consumers would trade individual control for a smooth, stress-free viewing experience.
Despite the numerous technological missteps, Smuggler’s Run is generally a hit, giving guests control over a ride system familiar over the past couple of decades. The attraction desperately needs randomized content, dependable PC engine build, and maybe a couple of wireframe screens above the Gunner/Engineer panel to make the moment-to-moment gameplay more engaging.
Savi’s Workshop
To anyone who listens to Boardwalk Talk, my initial admiration and eventual mild appreciation for the Lightsaber Experience was a result of Ryan O’Reilly’s dreaded realism.
I must admit I’m not a Harry Potter fan, so my visit to the Wizarding World came from a perspective of theme park appreciation. None of the experiences particularly interested me, but the scale and ambition of the project were commendable. It’s with this caveat that I can express my love of Savi’s while also admitting that it’s a more expensive, more exclusive copy of Ollivander’s. Nothing about these similarities offers criticism on either experience but should reign in the awe pulled from Savi’s, as most of the crucial moments are nearly identical to the Harry Potter counterparts. For a mere $200 (+$25 for the stand), guests are guided into a small “contraband” workshop in one of the more nondescript areas of Batuu.
It’s worth noting that the most impressive part of Batuu is the way it translates the architecture of a city into a cinematic world. Unlike The Wizarding World, where areas are lifted from a cinematically crafted setting that’s made to draw the eye to important landmarks, Batuu uses darker corners and small entryways to hide key locations from the eye. Storefronts are easy to find, while the seedy underbelly of the outpost requires a bit more attention. Without confusing the guest, an easy-to-navigate land can house secrets far greater than an Easter Egg.
Once you’ve located the workshop, guests have the opportunity to see each of the four types of Lightsaber before making their final choice. It’s odd to limit guests to one style, especially with the hefty price tag, but I have no doubt Disney wants to get guests back into Savi’s for another saber when FOMO finally rears its ugly teeth. “Peace and Justice” and “Power and Defense” are the most akin to popular Jedi and Sith design archetypes, with “Elemental Nature” and “Protection and Defense” are far more reminiscent of experimental, Old Republic designs. I found “Power and Defense” to be the safest, with others left for future purchases.
Entering the Workshop, guests are positioned around a horseshoe table as the experience director reveals themselves and the Star Wars music fades into the room. I wish I could remember the CM who lead my group because his stage presence was enamoring, but I can’t so I’ll send my appreciation through the Ether.
With an exceptional script, beautiful music, and amazing stage performances, I found myself launched deep into my childhood Star Wars love I had once believed to be lost. My goal was to build the most generic, simple lightsaber for my desk, but I quickly fell deep into the story and immersed myself into the lore. I wanted a blue lightsaber to keep with the neutral purchase, but when I was directed to close my eyes and “feel” the Kyber crystal “speak” to me, I picked red. At no point would I believe that there’s anything at work here besides fanboyism and marketing, but the impressive set design places you into the movie, maybe to make the $200 price tag all the more digestible.
Building the saber is simple, and the finished product is weighty and clean. Admittedly, the “Power and Defense” style feels mildly plastic, where the “Peace and Justice” build has a shiny, metallic texture. Both are what you’d expect from a lightsaber, but it seems like the darker metals lack any type of metallic shine. Putting a Kyber crystal in the saber is mildly difficult the first time but with practice, the $13 RFID slides neatly into the saber. I strongly advise readers to invest in an RFID reader/writer to save on some cash, but additional crystals are available elsewhere.
Despite a costly admission, the Lightsaber Experience is absolutely a must-do when visiting the outpost. A chance to experience the depths of Batuu fleshes out an already complex world, and Star Wars isn’t complete without an expensive piece of merchandise. Whether for display or to fulfill a childhood dream, no guest should leave without mastering the art of the blade.
After building your weapon, guests are sure to want alternate colors for their sabers (for $13 of course). For these ancient crystals, one should seek out the Ithorian legend Dok-Ondar.
Dok-Ondar’s Den of Antiquities
It’s hard to view Dok-Ondar’s as anything but a cynical attempt to cram endless Easter Eggs into a confined space. No matter the in-canon reason for these references, the store is packed with expensive merchandise calling back to various points in the Star Wars mythos. From masks to robes, canes to books, credentials to credits, Dok-Ondar has accumulated a pricey storefront perfect for the Star Wars superfan.
Superfan is right, as Dok-Ondar has left nothing to the womp-rats. Everything on display is extremely expensive, and most are absolutely worthless. I praise the guest who has the limitless funds to buy a General Grevious Mask for $325, or a Plo Koon bust at $110. An Amidala Headdress for $50, Dejark Figures at $130, Paintings for $400, Maz Kanata Statues for $130, $250 for a Palpatine Cloak, or his cane for $150.
I don’t mean to be rude, as I spent my own fair share of income on pointless tchotchkes, but everything in the Den is not only overpriced but would quickly become a paperweight on your desk. I suppose there exist some superfans who, between think pieces on SJW pandering, would shell out a small fortune for Leia’s dress. I’m not one of those people.
However, I will note that the key item on display that should interest most guests are the Legacy Lightsabers, allowing those who have purchased a saber blade (medium exclusive to the Workshop, small and large at the Den) to also buy a saber identical to that of their favorite characters. If a customized, “unique” saber doesn’t interest you, maybe an Anakin Skywalker or Ahsoka Tano one will. They’re expensive but not as expensive as the Workshop, which may attract a Jedi on a budget.
Those who look not to deal with Dok-Ondar can peruse his collection, featured prominently across the walls and spanning multiple generations of Galactic Heroes. Some of my favorites included a stuffed Wampa, the Mandolorian’s Helmet and Blaster Rifle, the mounted head of a Tauntaun, the medal at the end of A New Hope, and golden busts of Yaddle and Jar Jar Binks. The store is immensely crowded due to limited capacity, but spending a couple of minutes analyzing the items on display should satiate your Star Wars thirst. I can’t recommend you actually buy anything here besides the sabers, but as a small display of unique Star Wars props, it’s a bit of fun nonetheless.
Ronto Roasters and Docking Bay 7
I remember a time when the plans for Galaxy’s Edge called for a Cantina, two Quick Service options, and a table service restaurant themed to night-life on Batuu. The former three experiences made it beyond Blue Sky, but the latter seems to be pushed into the Star Wars Hotel.
In the meantime, guests are limited to Docking Bay 7 and Ronto Roasters, two quick-service restaurants with limited seating (especially indoors). On a cold or rainy day, it’s a bit disappointing that seating is limited at the only dining options, and I question the decision to offer even fewer seats outdoors. Where Pandora: The World of Avatar lacked table service, it excelled in seating for the limited dining it had.
Listeners to Boardwalk Talk may be surprised to hear that, despite my endless defense of the unique naming, my instinct as a tourist kicked in and turned me away from eating anything at the Docking Bay. Ryan O’Reilly tells me it’s very good, and from what I’ve seen the options match the unique style and impressive taste of Pandora’s Satu’li Canteen, but without thinking I turned away in favor of the more popular Ronto Roasters.
It’s with some dismay that I must kick the community in the teeth for the excessively positive reviews of Ronto Roasters. The option is impressively themed, with some comedic droid operations and enticing rows of rotating meat, but the food itself is barely a step above fast food. The Breakfast Ronto Wrap; a wrap of eggs, sausage, cheese, and peppercorn sauce on pita bread has enamored the community but barely beats Taco Bell. The pita is gummy, eggs a rubber sheet, and peppercorn sauce desperately underserved. You’d find a better egg at a McDonalds, as this tasteless mess is just embarrassing. The only saving grace on breakfast is the sausage which is barely admirable given that the entire point of Bakkar’s shop is the meat. The dinner option isn’t much better, save for the swap between egg and pork saving both the texture and the taste. An overdose of slaw and the still overbearing pita still hurt, but a refined sandwich from the previous option is welcome.
Ronto Roasters may be a galactic misstep, but Ryan O’Reilly’s rave review for Docking Bay 7 piques my interest. Head to Docking Bay 7 for Dinner, but in choosing breakfast you might as well go to Woody’s Lunchbox or skip it altogether.
The Bazaar
Honestly, it would be a waste of my time and yours if I ran down everything in the Bazaar, so I heavily implore you to explore it yourself if you want the full experience. Part of the fun is going into the store blind, but for the sake of the review, I’ll cover what Disney managed to sucker me into.
By far the most interesting store was the Toydarian Toymaker. This pun doesn’t really work, as the Toydarians do a lot more than make toys (it’s a little racist actually), but I’ll let it slide seeing as there’s a Watto toy, a deep cut that made me smile. If you think about it, that’s actually some hilarious lore, that the Toydarians see representation in the galaxy’s greatest story from the slavemaster and have idealized his position beyond being a miserable creep.
At the Toymaker, guests can buy toys (duh), with most designed to look handmade. The plushes and small desk figures are absolutely endearing, with imperfections and intricacies common in artisan toys. The material gives the illusion away, but the aesthetic offers something unique for the Star Wars fan. Not everything is that impressive, as the back half of the store features toys packaged in factory level boxes, but the key items on display are unique, relatively cheap, and worth attention. I really liked the handmade wooden figures, so I left with a C-3PO and R2D2 statue, memorializing the series’s most popular duo (after Reylo).
The only other store I visited was the Creature Stall, featuring various plush and plastic animals found across the galaxy. From Loth Cats to Tauntauns, Dewbacks to Mynocks, Banthas, Rathars, and Porgs, guests have their pick of taking a furry (or not so furry) friend home. Each was rather cute, but in my pursuit to be unique I left Batuu the most esoteric of them all: The Kowakian Monkey Lizard. For any Muppet fan or Star Wars obsessive, having a mildly opposable figure of Salacious Crumb on display is mildly amusing.
For the cosplay (or Disney-bounding) fan, Black Spire Outfitters has mild stock in outfits for both children and adults. I’m not an incel, so I don’t particularly find happiness in dressing up like a space wizard, but even I saw what was offered to be disappointing. Technically any guest over 14 is limited to the Disney-bounding rules in the parks, but these rules are lax unless a guest visits the park in a full stormtrooper armor set.
Oga’s Cantina
The architecture and “civil engineering” at the Black Spire Outpost reflects that of the average Star Wars city, in that the world is extremely cramped and the walkways are shadowed by daunting domed buildings. In opposition to the core tenants of the theme park, guests may find it takes more time to maneuver Galaxy’s Edge compared to other areas. The tall, attractive “weenie” is the Spires, but everything important lies on the spokes from that central location. One might point to the Falcon as the attractive spot, but the design specifically places the clean, showy parts in the center while hiding the seedy underbelly of the outpost from view. This risky but cinematically admirable move captures life where most theme parks would focus on the artificial.
I note this only because when trying to find Oga’s, I got lost. I had been in Galaxy’s Edge for over 5 hours and hadn’t once seen Oga’s. I might just be a spatially challenged moron, but this frustrating search for a bustling bar adds to the experience offered inside. Instead of simply taking the tide-and-true Trader Sam’s model and redeveloping it with a Star Wars coat of paint, Oga’s is an excessively cramped cantina perfect for the galaxy’s worst hive of scum and villainy.
Most guests are forced to stand, and the time in the club is limited, but the crowded ambiance straight out of the films turns uncomfortable conditions into a theming element itself. I’m often incredibly lazy, but resting an arm across the bar, squished between endless hordes of people, watching DJ R-3X bob to nonsense music, and drinking disgusting intergalactic concoctions absolutely immerses the guest into a limited universe.
The Bespin Fizz was quite alright, strong, but really obnoxious as the evaporate pushes straight up the nose when taking a sip. I suppose the idea was relatively unique (this isn’t the first drink to use dry ice), but for the price, it wasn’t worth it. Frankly, nothing on the menu was worth the price.
I chose to try the famous blue milk at Oga’s to major disappointment. The cookie provided was little more than a Samoa, and the milk tasted like a chalky, thin yogurt. I suffered through the seemingly endless tower of rancid malk, surprised that so many guests had enjoyed overpriced, flavored sewage. It wasn’t until I later tried the green milk at the Milk Stand that I realized the problem. I ended up loving the green milk but specifically appreciated the crystalline texture, keeping the drink cold but changing the consistency to actual milk. At Oga’s, the drink was extremely thin, where the Milk Stand explicitly focuses on mild freezing.
Oga’s may be too crowded and offer only overpriced drinks, but that inherently stressful experience is forgivable in that it adds to the theming. If you can’t stomach mild claustrophobic attacks then Oga’s is something to avoid, but any fan who saw the darkest worlds Star Wars had to offer and seek that experience exactly as it was shown will appreciate every annoyance.
The Rest
With limited time (and interest), I didn’t attempt to do everything the Outpost had to offer. Here’s a quick list of what I missed, with mild thoughts.
Rise of the Resistance
Admittedly, after the rest of the summary, I must offer the slightly contradictory caveat to any discussion of this attraction. Unlike most, I view theme park attractions as I would any book or movie, which in turn advocates guests to enter every new attraction without being spoiled. Accidental spoilers are unavoidable, but experiencing an immersive attraction yourself before entering a discussion on the intricacies preserves surprise. Any information I share, or pictures I show, will be from scenes featured in marketing.
However, a general discussion is in order. Many in the community looked to Rise as a feat of theme park engineering. Some shed tears, others endlessly sing the praises, but the general consensus leans in favor of this groundbreaking narrative. It may give the impression of an average dark ride to a layman, but fans point to the sheer scale and complexity of the experience to separate it from previous ventures.
I find Rise of the Resistance to be delightful from both a theme park and Star Wars perspective, but it’s certainly not the best attraction I’ve ever been on, nor the best attraction opened in the last five years. A distinct lack of peaks and troughs inherently devalues the experience as a whole, which is disappointing given the intense hype.
The most difficult part when judging the experience comes first when trying to delineate where the queue ends and the attraction begins. What would be a pre-show in any other attraction is, by reason of size and scope, inherently a part of the full experience. No one would imply that the Indiana Jones queue is anything more than an expertly crafted line, but the grey area between queue and attraction is exacerbated in Rise. Where many have applauded this redefinition, I can’t help but question if this actually falls under experimentation, or it’s a placebo as a result of poor pacing on the part of the seated attraction.
Flight of Passage in Animal Kingdom is absolutely one of my favorites, leaning into conservation education while providing a captivating and breathtaking experience that wholly immerses the audience. On my first ride through, I quickly slipped out of Florida, and into the world created before my eyes. That is until the attraction pulled me into a cave, and my theme park brain began to kick in. In every 3D movie, a cave scene often implies some scary monster that overburdens the effect and provides cliche. It was to my surprise that this scene allowed for some quiet downtime, following a high-speed chase with restrained music and colorful visuals. Breaking expectations and focusing on balanced pacing captures the cinematic beauty of the attraction, proving that everything in moderation benefits the experience.
Rise of the Resistance has a brilliant queue, but the attraction itself repeats the same story beats ad nauseam. Where Dinosaur starts with a peaceful tour of the Late Cretaceous and leads into a game of cat-and-mouse, Rise of the Resistance is a high-speed the entire time. Guests make their way down a hall, run into Roadblock A, turn around, run into Roadblock B, turn around, run into Roadblock 3 etcetera etcetera. Viewing the attraction in isolation emphasizes the lazy storytelling on display, giving guests very little quiet time to appreciate the scenery.
Maybe that’s what the Stormtrooper hall is for, or the interrogation cell? Guests still feel like they’re in a theme park line, but the impressive scenery and guided nature of the experience immerses guests in a manner unique to this experience. Cast members (likely underpaid for their acting) in full uniform direct you through the Star Destroyer, and their performances are stellar, but I’m not sure if this makes up for an extremely formulaic attraction.
The attraction finds impressive success in the individual experience, as the process to escape the cell and board your ride vehicle truly feels like an independent moment. Unlike other attractions, Rise has you board far, far away from the unload, and the only people in the room when loading are those in your car and another you’re paired with. If this attraction delivers on one emotion, it’s individual immersion. It truly does feel like you’ve left Earth’s surface and are maneuvering through a gargantuan spaceship, and the limited interaction with other groups captures a sense of loneliness. It’s slightly disappointing though that from the second you board, the car is already darting down the halls. A moment similar to the USCSS Nostromo in The Great Movie Ride could’ve helped with the excessively active pacing, possibly giving time for guests to gradually fall into the world before being alerted by an unexpected presence. Where Flight of Passage uses a moment in the middle to break the tension, Rise of the Resistance could’ve used the same technique by taking a moment to breathe.
That being said, It’s impossible not to be amazed by the attraction as a whole. Criticism on pacing might be minor nitpicks, but the near-perfection of the experience leaves me with very little to say. Rise of the Resistance doesn’t do anything new per se, rather, it revisits classic ride systems and uses an excessive budget to further develop the experience. Why have a basic pre-show when it could be a motion simulator on a turntable? Why use screens to create an army when you could just design an unnecessary amount of animatronics? Attention to detail is key, but improving on familiar systems is the name of the game here.
I’m disappointed to say I didn’t cry, nor did Rise of the Resistance change my life, but I found attraction as a whole to be quite good. Minor issues with pacing aside, it’s devoid of individuality or metatextual purpose but responds to these criticisms with technological prowess and innovation. Much like the series as of late, and other Disney properties, the product is well-polished but exists in a bubble. Star Wars fans, Theme Park fans, and the general populace will leave pleased, but I question how memorable a fast-paced and unfocused experience will be as the novelty effect wears off.
Flight of Passage > Rise of the Resistance
Conclusion
yikes.
Galaxy’s Edge is, on the whole, impressive. Contrary to expectations, the attractions are not the most important aspect of the experience, as the land itself is endlessly bustling and active. Adventure around every corner, unique experiences between guests and cast, and a diverse range of options makes it all the more depressing that some of the bigger aspects (like the restaurant) were cut in planning.
I didn’t ever want to say this, because the proponents of this idea are generally obnoxious and entitled, but I found so much enjoyment in the immersion that I would’ve preferred a fifth gate devoted entirely to Star Wars. The hotel may be the experience I’m looking for, but a park devoted entirely to new planets and new experiences, each with a unique culture and style like Batuu has unlimited potential.
Repeat visits might not lend themselves to as great an appreciation, as the surprise and exploration aspects are gone, but I suppose that’s to be expected with a theme park. I don’t find myself getting bored of classics like Pirates, Muppetvision, or Haunted Mansion, but on a second ride-through, I was quite tired of the limited variation in Smuggler’s Run. Rise of the Resistance is fun, but I can’t imagine a world where this attraction sees reasonable wait time and can stay in operation for a full day. The Boarding Pass system might just stay to deal with issues on the multitude of moving parts, otherwise, a FastPass system may kill the attraction purely based on the way it affects stand-by. If the merchandise changes on a rotating basis and continues to deliver unique Star Wars tchotchkes, that alone could breathe new air into Galaxy’s Edge.
It’s fresh, unique, and expensive. Three things that leave a fantastic first impression, but limit the potential for future development and refurbishment. Not only do things need to innovate beyond what they opened with, but the space and storytelling on Batuu are inherently limited. It’s mildly concerning that Disney has seemingly developed themselves into a corner, with very few opportunities for expansion and a hefty price tag for upkeep. I loved the experience I had, but I can only hope this isn’t all that Galaxy’s Edge has to show.
To the Spires.
Ryan Dorman is a Columnist and the Content Director for the Boardwalk Times. He can be found on Twitter at @OpentheDorman, and as a host of the Boardwalk Talk podcast on iTunes.
