One of the most captivating pieces of entertainment I’ve seen so far this year is a four-hour YouTube video in which a woman describes her stay at a Disney World hotel. This surprises me as much as anyone.
To be clear: I initially resisted when my partner encouraged me to watch Jenny Nicholson’s epic “The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel,” which breaks down her visit to Disney’s Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser in microscopic detail. During the now-closed experience, vacation guests were encouraged to live out their George Lucas dreams by participating in a role-playing game while staying in a structure just outside the park near Orlando, Florida.
Nicholson’s monologue, which lasts longer than “Lawrence of Arabia,” has been viewed more than seven million times since it was uploaded last month and has been the talk of social media, but I still wasn’t prepared for how absolutely riveting it is. what was it. While highlighting a litany of problems with the hotel itself, the video can also be seen as a diagnosis of the entertainment industry’s current ills. In her frustration, Nicholson becomes a brave truth-teller, clearly articulating how corporate greed betrays loyal fans to sell a cheaper, less emotionally enriching product. She and she do so against a backdrop of stuffed animals and while she wears various costumes, including, at one point, a giant suit that resembles a Porg, the puffin-like creature in “The Last Jedi.”
Nicholson is a great storyteller, even with Twi’lek tails and a Rodian hat. She lands somewhere between a friend who tells you some great gossip and a 21st-century pop culture Homerian poet who dabbles in the oral traditions of the ancients, only the topic is theme parks and “Star Wars.” .
Here’s the very abbreviated version of what he’s talking about: In 2022, Disney will open the Galactic Starcruiser, billed as a “two-night adventure.” (Think: a cruise ship, but on land.) Guests would spend their days and nights inside a largely windowless hotel built to resemble a spaceship, and actors would involve them in a story in which the Resistance fights the Empire for control of the ship. . While Stormtroopers and aliens roamed the halls, visitors played games that immersed them in the world through an app on their phones.
Nicholson spent more than $6,000 on a stay for two people. What did he get for that exorbitant fee? Well, for starters, a tiny room. (The “Star Wars” location that the footage reminded me most of was the prison from the TV series “Andor.”) Other than that, very little. He could barely figure out the role-playing element. And, in a particular indignity, she was sitting behind a pole during a dinner show and couldn’t see the alien singer Gaya. Nicholson repeatedly returns to the pole as an example of the poor design of the space, but also because she seems to become an incredible symbol of how bad her stay was.
Watching her explain it is a strange combination of pleasure and anger. She has a charming knack for banter, and her complaints are so well-documented that they never seem unreasonable. She feels sorry for Nicholson because she clearly wanted to have fun. Despite her frustration with the Starcruiser, she purchased products. She dressed. She even tried to make up a personality when she interacted with the cast. None of that worked.
Nicholson is nerdier than most, but he also represents a pure kind of fandom. He loves Disney and “Star Wars,” and his complaints come from a place of real disappointment. That’s why he can so effectively call out manipulation when he sees it. She’s not an influencer paid to dupe Disney products, and in one of the video’s most viral moments, she explains how you can identify someone who is, based on whether they use the intricate names. official products. For example, a paid influencer might say Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge instead of Star Wars Land. If she’s spent any time on social media, she’ll stop to consider how many times a TikTok or an Instagram Reel has sold her a listing of products.
What also struck me about the video was how Nicholson’s criticisms were valid in other media. Too often, corporations like Disney ask the public to accept what they are offered, regardless of quality. A critic might roll their eyes at the relentless influx of projects based on pre-existing intellectual property (and I often do), but there’s a reason studios continue to do so well: fans. One can rule out that the fandom is blind to quality, but Nicholson shows that that’s not really true. Releasing a lower quality, cheaper product can mean taking advantage of what is often genuine love. Sometimes the quiet part is even said out loud: A recent trailer for “Deadpool & Wolverine” featured a QR code leading to a video of Marvel star Ryan Reynolds telling “excited” fans that the movie is “ as paper-thin as a sequel.” to ‘Battlefield Earth’.”
Nicholson argues that instead of making Starcruiser the unique experience Disney promised, the company cut corners, betraying those who paid exorbitant amounts for what they assumed would be a means of transportation. He also highlights how, when Disney decided to close Starcruiser in September 2023, the enthusiastic cast members were the ones who likely paid the biggest personal price.
Because it is both consumers and workers who suffer. Take, for example, a recent Bloomberg report revealing that Pixar is moving away from films driven by directors’ personal stories and thinking more about spin-offs and sequels, despite the studio’s biggest recent flop, “ Lightyear,” was just that. And at Marvel, where fan engagement with the franchise has been dented in recent years by lower-quality movies and TV shows, overworked visual effects artists voted last year to unionize. “I grew up dreaming of working on Marvel movies,” one coordinator said in a statement, “so when I started my first job at Marvel, I felt like I couldn’t complain about the unpaid overtime, lack of meal breaks, and the Se “It put incredible pressure on the VFX teams to meet deadlines because I was supposed to be grateful to be here.” “Grateful to be here” is what Disney seems to have hoped Nicholson and other clients would say, too.
This mentality is evident in the glut of streaming television shows (too many to watch, only a few of them are worth your time) and in the number of super-long albums and alternative “covers” that musicians release to compete on the charts. If you are a fan of Taylor Swift, for example, you can buy “special” editions minimally different from the latest version of her out of the need to be a completist.
Nicholson is so compelling because her righteous indignation has less to do with her personal financial loss and more to do with how devotees like her have been taken advantage of simply because they want to escape to a magical world. Call that wish silly, but that’s what Disney promises time and time again, whether in the theme parks or on the screen. Fans like Nicholson take their passion for this material seriously. What she wants is for that care to be reciprocated.
The great irony is that Nicholson herself produced what Disney couldn’t: a comprehensive and fascinating experience that captured my attention.