Guys, I think I'm starting to understand the subtext of this ride.
I view the ride as an allegory for the ride artists' feelings of being creatively entrapped by their corporate superiors.
In this attraction, the Collector represents those corporate superiors. The Guardians, along with the Collector's minions who are complicit in the Guardians' escape plot, represent those who were tasked with developing the attraction. I haven't seen the Guardians movies, but at least based on seeing the ride, the Collector seems to be a sci-fi caricature of your average executive—the pompousness, self-aggrandizing (the gold statue in his likeness, for example), and apparently possession of wealth so vast that it blinds him from good taste. And guess what? He's trapped the Guardians, our protagonists, in his lair. That is to say, symbolically, the artists with such potential for inspiration and innovation are trapped within the confines of this proverbial prison in which only IP can reign.
So we can view the ride as a kind of rebellious fantasy that one might have when suppressed into creative mediocrity: the desire to "break out" from the creative confines that one's rulers have set for them, and to bring true originality, depth, and meaning back into the medium of the theme park.
And in that way, perhaps this ride has achieved that sense of depth through a masterfully subtle subversion of the corporate higher-ups. They've created something that, to a typical buzzword-touting executive who only seeks brand synergy and connection to the target demographics, is an innocent family-friendly thrilling adventure. But perhaps someone like that isn't artistically astute enough to realize that the attraction is, I believe, actually an intellectual cry for help.
In fact, consider these words straight from the creatives themselves, in an interview where they describe the characters that the attraction's cast members are playing:
"We've never done an attraction where we're working for the villains." […] "They want to be good guys, that's why they are on with Rocket's plan. They think it's going to be hilarious when all the creatures are on the loose and The Collector is freaking out." […] "They're sticking it to The Man. They have to work for this guy, but they don't like it."
I mean, again, I'm offering my interpretation and by no means does it represent the views of those cited. But for me it's hard not to ascribe some sort of allegorical meaning to that. Is this ride what happens when a group of clever artists "have to work for this guy, but they don't like it?" If so, then this attraction could possibly be them "sticking it to The Man" in a way that's a little too subtle for "The Man" to notice.
The Theme Park Insider article which contains that interview goes a step further in the description, which to me, is even more convincing of the subtextual meaning:
"The moment of the Guardians' escape is a moment of liberation for the cast members staffing the attraction, as well, who will be working with forced smiles as they toil under the oppressive control of their boss, The Collector."
There are also some other aspects to think about in this interpretation. For one, I wonder if the exterior of the building is an act of subversion in and of itself. As if to say: "Oh, you want more brand integration in the parks? Well, how about we have it take place in an oil-fired power plant? Yeah, real whimsical and inviting that is. And we'll slap your power plant all over the tallest building in the whole resort, so people far and wide can gaze upon this menacing monument to the almighty BRAND." I imagine that the emphasis on oil and electrical power is symbolic of a power struggle between the artists and those who control them. Also consider that the first scene in the elevator shaft involves destroying the power generator controls, as if to say that the first step in this rebellion is to win the power struggle once and for all.
Another idea to ponder, albeit an idea that might be just a bit too meta, is that the Collector's fortress building itself could be symbolic of California Adventure park at large. One of the main criticisms of DCA throughout much of its history is that it has served as a "dumping ground" for any IPs that don't fit anywhere else. And as we walk into the lobby of the Collector's fortress, we witness a kind of physical embodiment of that: just random things and creatures of all sorts packed up in display cases. Some of these items are futuristic gadgets, others are Polynesian artifacts, and yet others are straight-up characters out of unrelated Disney canons. The Collector cares neither about organization nor cohesiveness—rather, he's got a simple obsession with acquisition and promotion. The building itself being an embodiment of DCA might also be the only possibly-good reason for the ride directly referencing the view to Disneyland out the window. (Well, actually, there's not really any good reason for that. But it's a possible explanation.)
Also consider the symbolism of hands in this attraction. Rocket tells us that his raccoon paws aren't able to pass the hand scanning test, so he asks for the guests' help. The way that I interpret this is: in creating art, hands are a vehicle for an idea to manifest into reality. Art is born—and lives—in the brain, but hands are often what allow it to step out into the physical world. So if we view Rocket through the lens of a disgruntled artist, we might sympathize with the fact that he has the knowledge and abilities to pull off a masterpiece (Rocket tells us he is "the smart one," after all), but his captor has locked him in a place where his hands aren't the ones allowed to get things done. In this interpretation, the artists would be telling us (the riders, the public): we have the ideas, but our hands—our means of expression—have been disqualified. Help us. Lend us your hands and let us break out, to free us and our ideas into reality.
The ride on the surface isn't too bad. I certainly retain my preference for the drama, aesthetic, and timelessness of Tower of Terror. But from the general public's perspective, I could see Mission Breakout as a lateral or only-slightly-backward move from ToT. I guess with the task they were given (and especially on a rapid 5-month build) it's a decent effort…but interpreting it with my theory, I think it becomes a lot better.
I view the ride as an allegory for the ride artists' feelings of being creatively entrapped by their corporate superiors.
In this attraction, the Collector represents those corporate superiors. The Guardians, along with the Collector's minions who are complicit in the Guardians' escape plot, represent those who were tasked with developing the attraction. I haven't seen the Guardians movies, but at least based on seeing the ride, the Collector seems to be a sci-fi caricature of your average executive—the pompousness, self-aggrandizing (the gold statue in his likeness, for example), and apparently possession of wealth so vast that it blinds him from good taste. And guess what? He's trapped the Guardians, our protagonists, in his lair. That is to say, symbolically, the artists with such potential for inspiration and innovation are trapped within the confines of this proverbial prison in which only IP can reign.
So we can view the ride as a kind of rebellious fantasy that one might have when suppressed into creative mediocrity: the desire to "break out" from the creative confines that one's rulers have set for them, and to bring true originality, depth, and meaning back into the medium of the theme park.
And in that way, perhaps this ride has achieved that sense of depth through a masterfully subtle subversion of the corporate higher-ups. They've created something that, to a typical buzzword-touting executive who only seeks brand synergy and connection to the target demographics, is an innocent family-friendly thrilling adventure. But perhaps someone like that isn't artistically astute enough to realize that the attraction is, I believe, actually an intellectual cry for help.
In fact, consider these words straight from the creatives themselves, in an interview where they describe the characters that the attraction's cast members are playing:
"We've never done an attraction where we're working for the villains." […] "They want to be good guys, that's why they are on with Rocket's plan. They think it's going to be hilarious when all the creatures are on the loose and The Collector is freaking out." […] "They're sticking it to The Man. They have to work for this guy, but they don't like it."
I mean, again, I'm offering my interpretation and by no means does it represent the views of those cited. But for me it's hard not to ascribe some sort of allegorical meaning to that. Is this ride what happens when a group of clever artists "have to work for this guy, but they don't like it?" If so, then this attraction could possibly be them "sticking it to The Man" in a way that's a little too subtle for "The Man" to notice.
The Theme Park Insider article which contains that interview goes a step further in the description, which to me, is even more convincing of the subtextual meaning:
"The moment of the Guardians' escape is a moment of liberation for the cast members staffing the attraction, as well, who will be working with forced smiles as they toil under the oppressive control of their boss, The Collector."
There are also some other aspects to think about in this interpretation. For one, I wonder if the exterior of the building is an act of subversion in and of itself. As if to say: "Oh, you want more brand integration in the parks? Well, how about we have it take place in an oil-fired power plant? Yeah, real whimsical and inviting that is. And we'll slap your power plant all over the tallest building in the whole resort, so people far and wide can gaze upon this menacing monument to the almighty BRAND." I imagine that the emphasis on oil and electrical power is symbolic of a power struggle between the artists and those who control them. Also consider that the first scene in the elevator shaft involves destroying the power generator controls, as if to say that the first step in this rebellion is to win the power struggle once and for all.
Another idea to ponder, albeit an idea that might be just a bit too meta, is that the Collector's fortress building itself could be symbolic of California Adventure park at large. One of the main criticisms of DCA throughout much of its history is that it has served as a "dumping ground" for any IPs that don't fit anywhere else. And as we walk into the lobby of the Collector's fortress, we witness a kind of physical embodiment of that: just random things and creatures of all sorts packed up in display cases. Some of these items are futuristic gadgets, others are Polynesian artifacts, and yet others are straight-up characters out of unrelated Disney canons. The Collector cares neither about organization nor cohesiveness—rather, he's got a simple obsession with acquisition and promotion. The building itself being an embodiment of DCA might also be the only possibly-good reason for the ride directly referencing the view to Disneyland out the window. (Well, actually, there's not really any good reason for that. But it's a possible explanation.)
Also consider the symbolism of hands in this attraction. Rocket tells us that his raccoon paws aren't able to pass the hand scanning test, so he asks for the guests' help. The way that I interpret this is: in creating art, hands are a vehicle for an idea to manifest into reality. Art is born—and lives—in the brain, but hands are often what allow it to step out into the physical world. So if we view Rocket through the lens of a disgruntled artist, we might sympathize with the fact that he has the knowledge and abilities to pull off a masterpiece (Rocket tells us he is "the smart one," after all), but his captor has locked him in a place where his hands aren't the ones allowed to get things done. In this interpretation, the artists would be telling us (the riders, the public): we have the ideas, but our hands—our means of expression—have been disqualified. Help us. Lend us your hands and let us break out, to free us and our ideas into reality.
The ride on the surface isn't too bad. I certainly retain my preference for the drama, aesthetic, and timelessness of Tower of Terror. But from the general public's perspective, I could see Mission Breakout as a lateral or only-slightly-backward move from ToT. I guess with the task they were given (and especially on a rapid 5-month build) it's a decent effort…but interpreting it with my theory, I think it becomes a lot better.
Anyway, I plan on watching the ride on YouTube when I can to get my full review. But for now... I am pretty disappointed.
