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 When "classic Mansion" finally returned in 2025 after an unprecedented absence of approximately a year and a half, we found a lot more than a reimagined attic bride. Now that we've dealt with her (see previous post), it's time to review the rest. Some of the new stuff is very good, and some of it is . . . not.   Very, very not.  But before all that we need to point out one last thing about the New Connie:

 

She's Still a Baddie

It seems that when they redid the hubby portraits in order to eliminate their insensitive decapitations, no one on the team had enough presence of mind to realize that they also needed to redo Connie herself in the "Constance & George" portrait, because as things stand she is still identified indisputably with the Widow portrait in the stretching gallery. You've seen this montage before:

 

 

 

 

There's no way around it: Connie is still the Widow, and if so, it's still the case that she offed George with a hatchet. And if she offed husband #5, it's a cinch she did in the previous four as well. Kim Irvine, you blew it. Until the damning linkage is broken by altering or simply eliminating this last portrait, all that blather about a sad and lonely bride ghost searching for her lost love(s) is flatly impossible.

 

Now let us turn to other things.

 

Graveyard Wraiths and Blue Mist

The ghosts projected on the scrims in the graveyard are greatly improved. No more spinning wheels. They now vary in speed and direction and you find here and there a subtle waving motion. This is a 100% positive improvement. Well done.

 

By the same token, we have nothing but praise for the improvements in the floating blue mist effect, both in the Limbo load area and in the graveyard. Besides the improved projection effect itself, in the load area they noticeably expanded the blue mist to cover a larger area of the screen. I have not yet confirmed it, but from the video evidence it seems that the increased mist produces more light over there, which may have enabled them to dim the other lighting a little. If so, that was very shrewd and a marked improvement in a room notoriously too bright.

 

 

See also behind the Royals in the video clip above. With regard to Limbo, there's also a new exit/entrance in it for wheelchairs and scooters. At great expense, Disneyland added a more ADA compliant elevator entry and exit system. (This was the main reason for the prolonged shut-down.) The huge new mausoleum in the expanded queue area, as most of you know, houses the new elevator. There are plenty of videos out there giving tours of this new feature. The Mansionification of the halls and elevators is superficial and not very atmospheric. Despite a random set of Marc Davis concept sketches hanging on the walls of the passages, it doesn't quite feel like part of the Haunted Mansion, but I view it as purely utilitarian. It does what it's supposed to do with enough decoration added to at least take the raw edges off the break in illusioneering.

 

 

The Bat Cage Returns

This item appeared in 2023 for a short time near the Endless Hallway.

 

Jeff Baham

It appeared again during the last Haunted Mansion Holiday in the Corridor of Doors. Now it has stayed behind for classic Mansion.

My sources say it's still on trial. If it doesn't go over well, they may reserve it for HMH alone. Some people don't like it, but I have no problem with it. (Someone somewhere is making a note: "Long-Forgotten says it's cool.") Why? Well, it fits in well enough with my read of the ride's narrative. To recap, I think that when we were downstairs the spooks were toying with us, trying to scare us off. There were paintings that appeared to stretch and change, not to mention the walls themselves. Other paintings flickered foreboding images with the lightning flashes. Busts appeared to follow our moves, but stopped moving when we stopped. A whole room seemed to open into an "eerily lit limbo of boundless mist and decay." The Ghost Host had taunted us with a dilemma: are these hallucinations or actual metamorphoses? They're messing with our heads, leaving us wondering if these haunted happenings are actually taking place or "just our imagination." It's a false dilemma, since it's also possible the ghosts can manipulate the very fabric of the building and its furnishings in some sort of real/unreal way.

When we get to the second floor, where even the staff fears to tread, the gloves are off. No more hide and seek. Now when they manipulate the fabric of the building, they leave it that way, and they make a lot of noise too. In the COD, the wallpaper and the "family portraits," which presumably would have been normal-looking before we got there (like the downstairs furnishings), have become grotesque and distorted, with no return to "normal" to leave us wondering if we're seeing things. They're done with that flickering-back-and-forth rubbish. They want you to know they're real, and that perhaps you shouldn't have come this far.

The bat cage fits this environment fine. What was probably a bird in a cage before we got there (or more likely just an empty cage) now seems to have a gruesome little bat in it. If it had been downstairs, it would have been out of place, but in the COD it fits the environment satisfactorily.

 

The "Rolly" Chair is Back (But Still No Rotting Fruit)

No big thing, but the "Rolly" chair is back, the one they added in 2021 to the Séance Circle's airborne flotilla and then quickly removed. At the time I conjectured that maybe they had used a commercial design without permission, but either they got the necessary permission or that was never an issue.

I wish they would restore the Purply Shroud over there, especially now that they've removed his twin brother in the graveyard crypt. I also wish that in the Ballroom they'd turn the rotting fruit effect back on. I can't help thinking it's basically just a light switch somewhere that people have forgotten about. It's one of those cool minor effects you only notice on your fiftieth ride or so.

 

Digital Hitchhikers

We all heaved a sigh of relief when the cartoon antics of the Orlando hitchhikers did not reappear in the Anaheim mirrors when they went to digital imagery. Instead we got a slavish replica of the original rod-puppets. I understand that they created these images from photos of the original figures rather then de novo using CGI. Good. Clearly they wanted everything to look the same as it always has. For this, THANK YOU, team. There has been criticism about the sharp cut-off line at the bottom of the figures, but that was an irritating feature of the old system too. My main worry was that the figures would look flat, since the old figures were genuinely three-dimensional, but so far the feedback on this point has been positive. They fade in and out at the beginning and the end of the line, "materializing and dematerializing," which reduces somewhat your ability to look sideways at adjacent buggies in the mirrors and see the deplorable flatness of the figures, like you do at WDW.

It leaves you wondering why they bothered changing it at all. I presume it's a maintenance issue. The ghosty-go-round was a big, clanky, mechanical contraption requiring diligent upkeep. Barring electronic glitchery, there's now a lot less to go wrong. I regret the disappearance of the Victorian-era magic trick technology that went with the original, but I appreciate the effort to make the change not look like a change.

 

The Caretaker's Shed

This thing is not really part of the "new queue" but a way of camouflaging something utilitarian that apparently needs to be there. It's not bad looking.

 

 

But what's this? A human femur in the dog's dish? Here is an example of how shallow and obtuse the thinking of these guys can be. The Caretaker is presumably also a grave digger (note his shovel), and his dog has evidently been munching on human bones. It's a macabre joke, see? Well, what this "joke" utterly ignores is the character of these characters.  Both he and his dog are utterly without guile, completely sincere and innocent, and a bit cowardly to boot. There is NOTHING sinister about the man or his dog. Does anyone need to be told that? Both of them would be properly horrified at the gruesome suggestion here. This is like seeing Winnie the Pooh tell a dirty joke. It's something that would never happen.

This little tableau also ignores the fact that the Caretaker is the caretaker of the public cemetery next to the Mansion, not the caretaker of the Mansion. That can be seen most clearly in the Collin Campbell artwork for the "Story and Song" album, which follows the Imagineer's intentions scrupulously.

The New Queue

Again, we breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't get anything like the Orlando "interactive" queue, known around these parts as PLQ (Pepe le Queue). What this labyrinth of creamy walls and mostly off-the-shelf artwork most resembles is the Fastpass garden it displaced. In fact, most of the statuary from the latter has been retained here. A lot of this mundane "artwork" came from commercial catalogues of outdoor decor, and it shows. With few exceptions, they lack any spark of life, and some of them border on the kitsch. Those garish bowling balls, for example, have attracted criticism. There's nothing down at pink flamingo level, but too much of this stuff is only a notch or so above garden gnome level. 

Something that really puzzles me is the color palette. The warm, creamy surfaces—almost yellow—are anything but chill and foreboding, and with that red brick trim it almost has a California Mission feel to it, which is totally wrong here.

Why didn't they go with the sombre gray palette of the old queue? Disney used to have the best colorists in the business (Mary Blair, John Hench). What has happened?

I'm withholding judgment to some degree, because the place will no doubt look better once the plants have a chance to fill in more. We'll see.

There are traces of wit here and there. Did you notice the skull face?

There are also doors left open for future development. No one knows yet what this safe is for:

But with that lighthouse on it, it's possible there's going to be a tie-in with the S.E.A. master theme, although Kim Irvine associates this area with "Gracey." Huh? Make of that what you will.

 

 

The book on the table was published in 1917, which is pretty awkward, but I doubt we're supposed to know that. John Paul Jones hails from in the Revolutionary War period. Plausibly, he would have been of interest to the Mansion's original builder around the time of the War of 1812, if they're trying here to keep the Sea Captain business alive in some way. I can't see this prop lasting very long as it doesn't look waterproofed and it's outside. What's with that? This has to be a temporary situation. I suppose you could read a seascape into this glasswork as well. The ironwork has eyes (albeit a bit too obviously), which is the sort of thing we find frequently around the Mansion.

 Graveyard Lite?

Maybe there are plans to add more to it later (fingers crossed), but as things stand, the berm graveyard has been considerably abbreviated. The "great eight" set, paying tribute to the original Imagineers (plus Phineas Pock) is now incomplete, and one of the four stones paying tribute to the 2016 team that brought back the graveyard is also missing. What's there looks pretty bad at present, but when the plants have had a chance to grow up it will no doubt look better. At least the stones all look like they could actually have a grave in front of them, which was a major beef I had with the 2016 incarnation. Maybe someone actually listened? If so, thanks.

So much for the queue. Architecturally, I don't get any New Orleans, ante-bellum vibes from it. It's not criminally bad, but it's not spooky, and your Long-Forgotten administrator finds it uninspired and uninteresting. It's Fastpass Gardens spread over what seems like half an acre. I will definitely miss the spacious and far more beautiful area it has replaced.

 

It's Time to Despond

Lastly, we have this Turdasaurus Rex. If you want to know what I think of Madame Leota's Somewhere Beyond, check out the video by this guy. He's not my favorite Disney historian and I don't recommend all his stuff, but he's dead right about MLSB, and he pulls no punches. In fact, he says it's the worst structure ever erected at Disneyland. Is he right?

Yes. Yes, he is.  Nobody likes this building. You hear "Home Depot" and "Tuff Shed" among the more family-friendly mutterings, and in fact it didn't take long for sharp-eyed Disneylanders to recognize it as a brazen knock-off of a pre-fab barn: Armstrong's Legacy Post-and-Beam model 4236.

It's supposed to be the Mansion's old "carriage house," but as Brickey says, it looks nothing like the sort of carriage house you'd expect to see alongside a New Orleans ante-bellum plantation house. It's "Old-Westy" and dull as dishwater.

The biggest problem is that it's TOO DAMN BIG. They say that if Merchandising had had their way, it would have been even bigger. There is no forced perspective to bring it down to scale within its surroundings, and it makes both the Mansion itself and what was formerly called "Splash Mountain" look small. That is criminal.

Compare the concept artwork with the actual thing. The painting gives you the impression that the shop will be a modest structure tucked away beneath the shadow of the magisterial Mansion. Instead we got this clumsy behemoth shoehorned into the available space and big-footing the view on that entire side.

The worst thing about it is what has been lost. One of the most beautiful vistas in the entire park has been destroyed, just so that they can sell a few more Jack Skellington mugs and tee-shirts. 

This is unforgivable.

Gone.  It's gone.

"Cypresses?  Hell, who needs 'em?"

One could weep.

Putting that building up was a wanton act of vandalism. Some people have said, "Well yeah, it's true, the exterior is disappointing, but at least the interior is good." I disagree. Again, was there nobody on this team with any instinct at all for color? The concept art featured a palette built around the familiar green-and-magenta combination that spells spookiness like no other:

 

 

But the actual interior is what one thoroughly disgusted senior Imagineer called a "dog's breakfast." The green-magenta interplay has been swallowed up in browns, yellows, blues. In fact there is no dominant color scheme at all. Some bright-siders say the place looks magical. I say it looks like some kid decided to use all 64 of her crayons.

I don't even like the Leota Toombs tribute hanging in the place. Some ooh and aah over it, but I think (1) she looks like a man, (2) her eyes are utterly lifeless, and (3) the puckering around her mouth is poorly done and makes her look like she's getting ready to puke.  If she does, I'll probably join her.

 No, I'm not done yet. For decor in these upper shelf areas, someone thought it would be cool to feature some of the instruments that float around in the Séance Circle, like the tambourine . . .

. . . and the trumpet . . . 

 . . . and the snare drum . . . .

When I saw that, my jaw dropped. It's a MODERN snare drum. To be precise, it's a PDP Concept Series 7x13 maple shell.

This is good-enough-ism. Sloppy, cheap, and unworthy of a Disney production. Some say, "So what. Who will notice?" I respond, "How many guests does Disneyland have in a typical week? How many among those tens of thousands are probably drummers? How many are at least in bands and know what a modern drum kit looks like?" PLENTY of people are going to notice. How hard would it have been to have someone at the model shop whip up an antique-looking drum, or score one from a prop supply house? Here's what should have been there:

Disneyland and the other parks used to be known for their attention to detail, including historically accurate detail. This stupid snare drum may be a small thing in itself, but it's a symptom of a bigger problem and just one more log on the fire.

 Yes, I'm going to say it. Yes, I'm going to go there. If Walt saw this thing, people would be fired, and the bulldozers would be in there tomorrow.  Somewhere Beyond can go . . . somewhere beyond.

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