Waiting at theme parks — Charlie's core post 2

I read Television While You Wait on a bus to Disneyland, which made Anna McCarthy's summation of Barry Schwartz feels particularly apt: "modern society might easily be divided into two classes: those who have to wait and those who don't." Of course, it's not just the bus — it's also the institution at theme parks of various line-cutting techniques that visitors are given better access to the more they pay. At Disneyland, it's the ability to get a fast pass without having to go near the ride you want to queue for. At Universal, it's access to the park before it ever opens — and a badge that gets you to the front of the line.

The thing that I spent most of the day dwelling on at Disney, however, was not the screens — it was rather their (to me) conspicuous absence. For a company that got its start on the screen and used television to promote their park when it first opened, there are almost no screens anywhere, save for the entry to the park where one can watch 6 early Mickey films simultaneously. Contrast this to Universal Studios just across town, where the line for nearly every ride has a series of screens with unique content to both give updates but also immerse visitors in the narrative of the ride. Importantly, however, neither space functions the way that McCarthy notes of themeparks: neither showed traditional advertising to generate revenue. Instead, both used the waiting process as a way to prime visitors for the experience of the ride itself, to make an otherwise short experience much longer and more immersive — which serves as a form of advertising (for the inevitable gift shop post-ride), but not as a location to sell ads to other companies.

I think this is what fascinates me about waiting as such now — in an era of smart phones when portable, personal entertainment is ubiquitous, the role of screens in waiting is larger than ever — but also less directed. McCarthy seems to hint that there are a lot of people who read AH's advertisements oppositionally because of how they were delivered. But how does that work now that people carry their own screens? It seems like there's something to said for Universal's route: using waiting time to build a whole experience that climaxes with the ride (and thus lets audiences down into the consumptive moment in the store), but isn't limited to it. It encourages people to view and experience the screens, not just because there's little else to do, but because the content of the screen is, in reality, a part of the very reason they are waiting in the first place.

That said, I'm left with a few questions:

• How are waiting spaces being adjusted now that people are on their own screens? Are screens more likely to be muted rather than have sound? Have there actually been any substantial changes yet, or are those forthcoming?
• Are oppositional readings becoming more and more fraught as people are able to watch things tailored more to their views?
• How effectively are advertisers using the knowledge of where a person is while on their own device to serve ads to people in a fashion similar to AH? Does it work, or does it backfire because it is largely perceived as an invasion of privacy (of course some perceive it that way)?
• Are public screens still being installed, or are they largely being utilized as already existing things?
• Are there other examples, besides amusement parks and movie theatres, in which the waiting screen is constructed to be part of the very reason people are there, rather than a sort of punishment for not having the status needed to avoid waiting or for being overly prompt?

~Charlie

P.S. One of my saddest days as a worker was when the Hollywood Video I worked at got a regulated screener that we had to play. Its loop was 30 minutes long, but the music repeated much more often than that. Previously we could play any pg-13 (or lower) film we wanted with the sound low.