My absolute favorite themed port of DisneySea was surely Mysterious Island. Admittedly, I'm quite biased—not only a fan of the writings of Jules Verne, I'm also an unabashed aficionado of Disney's 1954 live-action film, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Add my general love of history—specifically the Victorian steampunk aesthetic—and you can see why I might enjoy the design vision behind this area.
The supervising art director on 20,000 Leagues was Harper Goff, a Hollywood production designer and studio artist. Harper was working for Warner Bros in 1951 when he met Walt Disney in a London model-making shop, and Walt quickly recruited him to the then-burgeoning Disneyland concept team.
After contributing numerous sketches and plans for the development of that park, he was the man responsible for the award-winning design of Captain Nemo's submarine, The Nautilus. Unfortunately, Goff was denied an Oscar because of a dispute with the Disney studio that has never been satisfactorily resolved.
Harper took his inspiration from actual metalworking techniques of the late nineteenth century; iron plates and rivits, and once quoted his wife as calling the overall style of The Nautilus "nautical but nice."
One of Disney' most enduring icons, The Nautilus has taken up residence at three other parks, first at the original Disneyland (in the form of an early Tomorrowland film set exhibit), then at the Magic Kingdom in Florida (at the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea submarine ride, since removed) and again in Discoveryland at DIsneyland Paris, as an elaborate walk-through attraction.
This time, the folks at Disney took Goff's original designs for the film—combined with what related elements had been previously imagined for the other Disney Parks—and created a complete, cohesive vision for an entire land.
Lead creatives at WDI simply took as a given that Nemo drove Goff's submarine, and then extended that aesthetic—what would Nemo's headquarters, on the literary Verne's "Mysterious Island," look like?
What sort of materials would he employ? How would he construct his retreat deep within, and around, this remote volcanic ocean base?
Everything follows: from the glasswork, to the stained, weathered and oxidized bronze; from to the elaborate metal pipework to the exacting lantern shapes; from the typography on signage, wayfinding and associated ephemera to the vivid color palette.
This impressive beauty aside, Mysterious Island is a curious example of the postmodern nature of thematic design today. I know. Postmodern is a term so frequently bandied about that it seems to have lost all meaning; anything, at this point, can be called "postmodern." Yet specific fields have very different definitions for it—from architecture, to literature, to fine art.
When I associate postmodern with theming, however, I'm using a definition often employed by social scientists—one in which the terms means a breakdown in the referential chain. This chain is the link between source and reference, between original and descendant. A postmodern thematic environment, then, is a designed space in which it is difficult (or near impossible) to separate the inspiration from the execution; a space in which it's very hard to discern fact from fiction, and pop culture from history.
Mysterious Island draws on many ideas that originated in the literary works of Jules Verne; the namesake novel, the novels 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Journey to the Center of the Earth (both of which are themed attractions in this area), as well as elements of a lesser known Verne work, Facing the Flag. Yet it also adds the 1954 Disney film into the mix (where most of the design aesthetic originates), and various popular culture notions of the Victorian era and steampunk culture.
Steampunk refers to a fictionalized history of the later nineteenth century, in which many modern-day technological advancements (such as computers, nuclear and electric power, etc.) did indeed exist, albeit using the materials and philosophies of the industrial revolution. It is a form of science fiction fantasy that takes place in the past, rather than an imagined future, and has proliferated, beginning in the 1980s, through literature, cinema, television, comics and video games.
Along similar lines, Discoveryland at Disneyland Paris merges steampunk with the works of Jules Verne (Around the World in 80 Days, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and From the Earth to the Moon) alongside the 1954 Disney film aesthetic, and also draws upon the works of H.G. Wells and Leonardo da Vinci to create a 'past-future' fantasy (sometimes called retro-futurism).
Mysterious Island at Tokyo DisneySea is all of these things—and yet none of them—all at once; literary source, actual history, science fiction fandom, and a key Disney cinematic reference. Yet it’s impossible to tell where Verne ends and Disney begins, or for that matter which is actually Disney creative property and which is appropriated out of the cultural ether. Such is the nature of postmodern thematic design.