A Culture Defying Gravity: The Wreck of the Galactic Starcruiser

On the closing of the Galactic Starcruiser and why it happened. Spoilers: it wasn't the money.

This Substack is not about Star Wars.

Honestly. I swear. Right hand to God.

But, I’ve said it once, and it bears repeating - no other piece of media or franchise is quite as emblematic of the miserable, stagnant quagmire of culture we find ourselves sucked in, where the Brothers Warner and the Mouse trade backhanded slaps over a burning swamp filled with broken dreams and ruined castles. These two companies, while not the sole reason we’ve regressed into this pitiful state, still have more than a fair share of culpability in the fact we’ve ended up with our societal foot caught in this cultural bear trap adorned with the iconography of characters like Darth Vader, Batman, Harry Potter, and Spiderman - they may not have fashioned the trap, but they excitedly slapped their IP’s all over it.¹

That being said, this is less about Star Wars and more about taking an opportunity to laugh at the Mouse as it takes another blow. This won’t be a mortal strike, unfortunately. I doubt it will even amount to much more than a nasty cut that ultimately won’t leave much of a scar. But, today, to the shock of no one who was paying attention, and to the dismay of exceedingly few, the Galactic Starcruiser attraction at Disney World announced that it will be “taking it’s final flight” in September, just short of a year of opening.

Now that brings a smile to my face.

When I was a kid, my dad got me a remote controlled R2-D2 for Christmas and use it to chase me around the house, which is immediately what I think of seeing the astromech droid here.

Not because I’m a bitter sod who takes cathartic delight in watching endeavors I don’t approve of crash and burn - well, not just because I’m a bitter sod who takes cathartic delight in watching endeavors I don’t approve of crash and burn, but mostly because I predicted the entire venture was doomed to fail to begin with, and it’s always nice to be proven right once in a while.

As stated above, this really shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone, and short of the most deluded of Disney shills and Star Wars simps, I can’t imagine anyone is terribly surprised or upset. You didn’t need to be a financial analyst to know this was a losing proposition to begin with.

Now, if you’ve gotten this far, I assume you know what the Galactic Starcruiser is - or was² - but, on the off chance you don’t, it was, to be brief, a hotel built on Disney World property where one could stay for a forty-eight hour long “interactive experience” that “transported you to the Star Wars Galaxy”. Basically, they put you on a bus where the interior looked like a space shuttle, drove you to a hotel that was gussied up to look like the interior of a luxury cruise space liner, and a bunch of cast members talk to you like you’re some sort of tourist from Courescant or some shit and play out a story.

By all accounts, it was egregiously lame. Which is probably no small part of why the attraction is being shuttered. Most of the appeal comes from getting to LARP as, say, your own super original character, Boochie Flagrante the lost Jedi Padawan of Master Scrumpus McGrumpus in the comfort of your XXXL sweatpants and sweat-stained novelty HAN SHOT FIRST shirt. I know the riveting experience of playing Tic-Tac-Toe, a scavenger hunt, bingo, and a few arcade games was probably not drawing in crowds. Yes - really. By all accounts, when you weren’t playing make-believe with the cast, they occupied time by playing games that would put pre-schoolers to sleep. I heard from multiple sources that, more than once, they would hand out literal pieces of cardstock with bingo charts on them, and, did you have to play? No. But what else were you gonna do? Play the arcade games? Maybe - if they worked. Oh, and only if it was at the allotted time, because some had availability that hinged on the story unfolding, so, sit down, take your bingo card, and shut up.

That’ll be all the money in the world plus tax, please.

I'd also like to mention that the staff was very adamant about not taking any videos or photos inside the attraction - to “maintain the surprise for future guests”, of course. It seems, after a brief bit of research, that either they loosened up on this rule or people stopped caring, so you can find more photos and videos of the attraction, if you want, but still not as much as one would expect. The real kicker about that tidbit here is that, if you wanted to go to this thing at first, you had no real idea of what you were getting into. There were no shortage of people going on YouTube and talking about their experiences, but there was a lot of conflicting information floating around. No two accounts seemed to match, which is, in part, due to the unpredictability of running what amounted to a LARP for forty-eight hours in real time, one fraught with technical difficulties, delays, and unruly guests. For instance, it seems like the bingo cards were only brought out when the arcade games were out of service, but, at the same time, for the price tag attached to this thing, they could have and should have come up with an alternative better than bingo.

I say this because I don’t have to imagine the disappointment these people who signed up to attend the attraction months in advanced must have felt; I listened to them explain it. Just imagine coming in expecting this:

And getting this:

You know it smells crazy in there.

You could make the argument, But YakubianApe, you knuckle-dragging Caucasian simian, it isn’t fair to draw that comparison. Just because there aren’t any Stormtroopers in that photo doesn’t mean they never showed up.

And that’s true. But, at the same time, do you see any aliens? Anyone in costume at all? I thought those two fellows in gray tunics might have been costumed cast, but upon closer examination, I doubt that any of the supposed crew of the S.S. Glup Shitto would be wearing blue jeans. Also, just look at this man’s face.

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend…

That is the face of pure joy and elation. I can practically feel it radiating off the screen.

Now, I know that some people get a kick out of playing footsies with the costumed characters at Disney parks, and I don’t fault them for that. This isn’t to speak ill of the cast and performers that worked the attraction, either - I won’t deny it takes talent and passion for your work to be able to play a part where you have to entertain a dozen different people for two days on the fly, not to mention the patience of a saint. But I take no joy in hobnobbing with the costumed characters. Even when I was at the tender age of three, the first time I went to Disney World with my parents, I remember sitting at the resort dining room with a waffle shaped like Mickey Mouse’s head in front of me and getting mad because Goofy wouldn’t piss off and let me eat in peace.

I can’t imagine I’d enjoy trying to eat some slop made to look like alien cuisine while “Rey” and “Kylo Ren” swat each other with plastic lightsabers in the corner, or having some dipshit in a Stormtrooper costume harangue me over droids while I’m standing at the bar, waiting for the poor barkeep in a latex mask to fix me up a Fiery Mustafarian - basically a Oaxacan Old-Fashioned that costs thirty-five dollars. For that price, it’d better come to me served by the woman playing Rey in a swim-suit.

Don’t worry, I’m no lech. I’d buy her a Fiery Mustafarian, too.

And if you think that’s bad, just wait ‘til you see the out of this world beer list.

For reference, the price of the standard cocktail - say, an old fashioned - would put you out fifteen bucks.

If you weren't already beginning to understand why this attraction flopped, I'd hope it's becoming clear, now.

But, all things being equal, what truly killed this endeavor, what doomed it from the starting line, was the price tag. Mostly. And I stress that mostly.

The price fluctuated depending on the dates and availability, but by all accounts, you weren't getting in for under a thousand bucks. The most common number I've seen tossed around is $1,200. Per person. For a family of four, they had a special deal, where you could get the wife and kids in for a measly $6,000.

To stay in a room like this.

You could go on an actual cruise, get a bigger room, go to another country, and be on the ship for five days for less money. With complimentary drinks, too. No, really - I just went on Royal Caribbean's site and searched for cruises out of curiosity, and I could take my lovely wife and beautiful children that don’t exist from Fort Lauderdale to Cozumel and Grand Cayman in August for $525 per person. And, given the promo that they're currently running, children sail for free. Now, I'd be paying more than the entire cruise to fly myself and my lovely, non-existent family of four to Miami to get to boat, but, if I'd spend no less money flying to Orlando, why would I pay through the nose for something I could do at any comic convention in the country with cosplayers for free?³

Here’s the rub - the Galactic Starcruiser failed because it was too expensive. Mostly. Also, the blue-skinned alien captain lady who kinda looks like Mystique from X-Men didn’t look like she was advertised, which, personally, was the biggest slap in the face to me, but for most folks, it was probably the money. Mostly.

Out of respect for the no doubt hard working actors who played this character, I won’t post any pictures of the women who played her, but I will say they did not look like this.

Disney asked for too much from customers for too little in return. Even when they began to lower the prices less than half a year into operation, and no matter how hush-hush they tried to keep the finer details of the operation, word got around, and the consumers made it clear that the bang just wasn’t worth the buck. Honestly, Disney should have been retooling this thing once they started to have bad word of mouth, but if we’ve learned anything over the past couple years, the company as a whole does not, will not, and sometimes it seems can not self-reflect. Even though this ill-gotten attraction was conceived under God-King Iger before his first and premature retirement, industry chatter says his successor, Bob Chapek - who had served as the notoriously penny-pinching Master of Coin that lorded over the Disney park’s division department before being promoted to CEO - wanted to. Of course, when he was ousted in a corporate coup by the board of directors, any hope of this failure being salvaged was, er… disintegrated like Boba Fett hit it with his incinerator. Or something. Because Darth Vader told him no disintegrations.

Look, I’m trying to be topical, alright?

But, it isn’t just that it was too expensive. Here’s where that mostly is gonna come in handy. It goes deeper than that. Think about this; when I went to Disney World last, it was 2007. My dad paid for the whole family to come, which came to a total of five. He wasn’t hurting for money, but, all the same, it wasn’t cheap. I’m not gonna bother calculating for inflation or looking up how much park passes cost to get an exact number, but I know my notoriously frugal father was probably wincing every time he pulled out his card. But, to this day, we all remember the trip fondly. Up until very recently, me and my friends all wanted to go to Disney World, because we all had very pleasant memories of going as children. We were willing to give Mickey some cheddar. Though, that dream died since, nowadays, the park has so much garbage piled on top of the classic attractions that it’s barely the park we remember. But I digress.

Honestly, someone needed to be shot for this.

Families have always spent a lot of money at Disney parks. You were always gonna get raked over the coals and pay ten bucks for a turkey leg and five for a can of coke. That’s the nature of the beast. The Faustian Bargain you make with Mickey-stopheles, if you will. Parents will shell out cash to treat their kids and make memories with them - good parents, at least. I remember when our family was damn near flat broke my mom used what she got from her job at the time she still took us to San Antonio and other cities in Texas so we’d have a vacation. I once dated a girl who’s family was so poor that driving from Lubbock to Forth Worth just to see the zoo, which, to me, was basically a bi-annual event, but for her, was monumental. It was all her dad could do for them on his salary, but he did it. Parents sacrifice for their children. Who knew?

People would have taken their kids to the Galactic Starcruiser… if there had been anything for them to do. And I don’t just mean that because, apparently, most of that was paying for overpriced drinks and playing bingo, which you can do at any retirement home in America for significantly less. And probably have more fun. You know the Greatest Gen acts up when the bingo cards come out.

I suppose I shouldn’t say there was nothing to do with your kids, if you took them - you could have played bingo together (no, I really cannot get over that). But what would a parent be giving a child at the Galactic Starcruiser?

Let’s revisit this fellow, shall we?

“I’ve made a huge mistake…”

Look at his shirt. Notice the Rebel Insignia patch on his shoulder? I’m willing to bet the other patches on his shirt and hat, even some of the ink on his arms, is Star Wars related. This man clearly loves Star Wars - assuming that it’s only him and his son in this picture, and his wife and another child aren’t elsewhere, he spent at least $2,400 to be there. This guy wanted to share his love of what he no doubt adored as a child with his son. He wanted to pass on his passion for his favorite movies to the next generation. I rag on Star Wars fans a lot, but that’s perfectly fine. I think it’s laudable. A father should want to bond with their son in such a way, regardless what it’s over. Even though my own father was only ever a passive fan of the original movies, I remember watching them with him more times than I can count. That poor bastard could probably quote the movies verbatim by the time I turned ten, and he never had to sit there and watch them with me - he wanted to, just because it was something we could relate with one another over. (By the way, thank you to both my parents for sitting through all the theatrically released Pokemon movies with me, as well - I know that could not have been easy.)

Hell, one of the reasons I think the Star Wars franchise has stuck in popular culture for so long, why the original movies are as powerful and profound as they are, is because one of the central conceits is the relationship between father and son.

I won’t lie, I have always found the story of Luke Skywalker having the faith in his father to help him reach redemption is, frankly, beautiful. Profoundly Christian, as well, I’d like to add, which is why you’d never see something similar done by Hollywood today.

But, the thing is, Star Wars is no longer about father and son, the ideological, inter-generational conflict between them, the acceptance and forgiveness and redemption that was all inherent within. That, too, is fine. There’s nothing wrong with shifting the theme of a series of movies to examine other topics. Yet, with Star Wars as it is now, there’s nothing. There’s no meat. There’s no substance. The only story is a jumbled, haphazard mix of bullshit thrown together and thrown at the wall, held together by aggressively annoying memberberries.

Tell me - what were the themes of the sequel trilogy? What were themes explored throughout the arc of the three movies? I can’t think of any from The Force Awakens or The Rise of Skywalker. Say what you want about The Last Jedi, but Rian Johnson, however poorly, did actually try to make a statement and explore themes of moving beyond tradition and forging new paths.

Kill it if you have to.

This was a thesis statement. Not a bad one, either. One that Disney and LucasFilm should have taken to heart, at that.

But I can’t think of anything similar in the other two movies done by J.J. Abrams. Despite Rian Johnson setting the stage for some sort of thematic arc, it was abandoned because if they “killed the past”, they couldn’t sell toys of it. And because the writer’s room at LucasFilm is staffed fundamentally uncreative hacks who couldn’t cobble together a meaningful narrative with any real depth of thematic weight if J.R.R. Tolkein, C.S. Lewis, and a handful of their friends were there to coach them through it, but that’s almost tertiary.

You can say a lot about George Lucas - not all of it flattering - but the man knows how to craft a story. He studied Campbell’s Hero of a Thousand Faces and boiled down what made a story mytho-poetic. Tolkien did the same thing, albeit in a much more graceful and profound way. But Lucas was no slouch, either.

We pass stories down from generation to generation because they mean something. The story of Luke and Anakin Skywalker meant something to people. There was genuine human pathos woven into the narrative that resonated with the audience. The story of Anakin’s fall from grace meant something to people. Hamfisted as the prequels could be, there was a lot of genuine human pathos in his story that a lot of the audience could probably see an uncomfortable bit of themselves in.

But the story of Rey?

What was it? What was there to pass down? In the sequel movies, there’s nothing for a father to pass to his children⁴ in the sequel trilogy besides iconography and symbols that mean nothing without the original six movies to define them.

So, let’s revisit that question - what would a parent be giving a child at the Galactic Starcruiser? Would they be passing down a love and passion for a cherished tale? A cultural myth? Or would they simply be paying thirty bucks for a cocktail I could make you in my kitchen to play patty-cake with a storm trooper? Would they be impressing upon that child the story, the myth of Anakin and Luke Skywalker, or would they be playing bingo with an Empire logo slapped on it?

This is why, ultimately, Disney’s stab at Star Wars - and the Galactic Cruiser - has failed. By Kathleen Kennedy’s own admission, the Star War’s based sections of Disney World and Disney Land, both called Galaxy’s Edge, and, by extension, the Galactic Cruiser, were made to embody the sequel trilogy era of the franchise. She had a quote that I can’t find at the moment in which she said that she didn’t want it to be “stuck in the past” and “appeal to fifty year old men”. Well, those fifty year old men? They’re the ones passing their love of Star Wars to their children. They would be paying you dumptrucks of cold, hard cash to have an experience where they got to to do that.

And you gave them nothing to pass down. You gave them bingo cards.

Sure, they have lightsabers and storm troopers and X-Wings and all that junk at Galaxy’s Edge. They have guys running around in Jawa costumes hollering gibberish and little remote control droids that beep and boop and blip and, hey, I even hear Chewbacca comes out every once in a while, and if you slip a tenner into his hairy paw, he’ll do the Gangnam Style dance for you⁵. But the only reason those ever meant anything to anyone was because of the story they were in. It’s not about the symbols - it’s what they represent.

This, in turn, is the problem with pop culture as a whole. Disney’s Star Wars, Galaxy’s Edge, the Galactic Cruiser - they were never made for kids. They were made for adult fans, to bilk as much money as they can out of them by force-feeding memberberries down their throats before before moving on to the next grift. The Disney parks, in turn, are no longer about creating a place and an experience for family’s to make memories together - it’s about selling SINKs (single income, no kids) crap they should be passing down to their kids.

John Carter of the fantastic Postcards from Barsoom here on Substack is, as of this writing, doing the world a service by dissecting, examining, and offering solutions to civilizational crisis we face from our catastrophically low birth rates. If you’re reading this, I assume you are probably familiar with his excellent blog, but, on the off chance you aren’t, do yourself a favor and read this article now. In this article, he writes;

“Creativity, whether of the scientific, entrepreneurial, or artistic kind, tends to be the province of young and energetic minds.”

This, in so many words, perfectly encapsulated the why culture has stagnated. This is why everything made for the masses to consume caters not to children, or even family’s, but SINKs, Funko Pop collecting manchildren, and the ever-wretched Disney Adults; it simply isn’t economical to cater to children in a market where children make up an ever-dwindling minority of an increasingly lop-sided age distribution graph.

On paper.

I want to further explore this topic in a follow-up article, to keep this one from overstaying it’s welcome. In it, I’ll discuss a similar phenomenon in a similarly graying country - Japan - and how it’s manifesting in their media as well, and, hopefully, offer a tonic as to how we can finally get our culture unstuck and move on past the pit we’ve fallen in. To give you a taste of where it’s going, if you know who this man is -

Not to be presumptuous, but you probably don’t.

You know a man who’s nickname is Gen Uro-butcher should probably not be penning the script to shows that have historically been for a child demographic. Yet, he is. Why? Well, the same reason Warner Brothers is repackaging Harry Potter as a television rather than investing in an original IP. Hint: it isn’t just because anything with the name Harry Potter attached prints money - that would be a symptom, not a cause.

To close this chapter of this examination, however, I’ll say this; the Galactic Starcruiser didn’t fail because it tried to break new ground, be bold, be adventurous, try something new and fail - it crashed because it tried to defy gravity, hover in place, anchored by the past, and go nowhere at all.

1. Honestly, given that Warner Brothers has resurrected the Harry Potter franchise to poison the discourse of politics and stunt the imagination of another generation, I feel like they might be more loathsome - at least Disney unwittingly did us the favor of irreparably damaging Star Wars.

2. Haha!

3. At Houston Comic-Con I was doing shots with a couple cosplaying Kylo Ren and Rey, as well as a chick dressed as a wookie who was damn near seven feet tall in heels, which might be the more authentic Star Wars experience.

4. It isn’t just about fathers and sons, as I’ve known several girls who were Star Wars fans because of their (admittedly geeky) fathers exposing them to the franchise at a young age. A father should impart as much to his daughter as his son, but this should go without saying.

5. This happened. I saw a video of it. It looked like the most entertaining thing that Galaxy’s Edge has to offer.