Tropical Serenade was a Magic Kingdom opening day original, premiering with the park in 1971. Of course, it was also a copy of the Enchanted Tiki Room that Walt had been so proud of since its Disneyland opening in 1963. For decades, the two unforgettable shows played on. But as we have come to learn, being a classic doesn’t always mean being untouchable.
Sure, it’s fair to imagine that – through the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s – grown-up audiences might’ve lost some of their astonishment at the sight of the singing birds, especially as Audio-Animatronics became industry standard (and significantly more advanced). Plus, it’s common for attractions like the Tiki Room to encounter diminishing returns year after year, as audiences are more likely to repeat rides than shows.
But ironically, the thing that really killed Magic Kingdom’s Tiki Room is probably the same thing that had spurred its creation three decades earlier: pop culture.
Animated additions
By the 1990s, the Walt Disney Company was well in the midst of a genuine Renaissance. Led by Michael Eisner, the reinvention of Disney had already yielded the first in a relentless string of box office blockbusters – The Little Mermaid (1989) Beauty and the Beast (1991), and Aladdin (1992). Eisner’s oversight had revitalized Disney’s catatonic catalogue with an unprecedented collection of modern (and merchandise-friendly) characters. This was exactly what Eisner had been hired for, and it was working.
And though the Studios were on the rise, Disney’s theme parks were entering one of their darkest eras. As ambitious as Michael Eisner had been in his pursuit of revitalizing Disney’s animation business, it was nothing compared to his investment in the parks. In fact, Eisner’s “Ride the Movies” era (from the mid-80s to mid-90s) had seen attractions of unprecedented scope; incredible, ambitious, and ultra-expensive E-Tickets that still define the industry today.
But his biggest power play yet – 1992’s EuroDisneyland – famously floundered when it opened, spiraling Disney’s theme parks into decades of closures, cancellations, and cop-outs. Across the Parks division, projects were stalled and classics were closed as a new law of the land spread: low-cost updates to inject more of Disney’s high-earning IPs into the parks.
Then, in 1994, The Lion King debuted. With an initial worldwide gross of $766 million (over $1.3 billion today), The Lion King ended its theatrical run as the highest-grossing animated film of all time and the second-highest grossing film ever, period. Upon its home video release, the film became the best-selling film on home video ever with over 30 million VHS copies sold. The Academy Award-winning film was a new pinnacle for Disney. And it needed a place in the parks.
In the late-1990s, Disneyland’s original version of the Tiki Room went under the knife for a touch-up that refurbished its sound and lighting, while also cutting out one song to shorten the show’s length from 18 minutes to 14 – much more palatable for the hurried guests and harried children of the 21st century. (That tightened-up version still plays today, inseparable from the historic fantasy park. While some fans might object to the “edited” version, the show is truthfully stronger for it.)
About the same time, Magic Kingdom’s version announced an upcoming closure, as well. After 26 years of serenades, the tikis, flowers, and birds in Magic Kingdom’s Tropical Serenade sang their swan songs on September 1, 1997 as construction walls went up around the Sunshine Pavilion. Just eight months later, the Sunshine Pavilion emerged sporting a new marquee.
The Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management opened April 5, 1998. Fans expecting to see an updated or cleaned up show were aghast at what awaited inside.
The Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management
Settling into the Sunshine Pavilion at the debut of the Tiki Room: Under New Management, you might initially be nervous about the change. The good news is, right from the start you’d likely lose yourself in the classic show once again. After all, it sincerely seems that nothing’s changed! A Cast Member begins the show by waking up Jose, who stretches and yawns that his siestas are getting “chorter and chorter.” As before, he rouses his three co-hosts – Michael, Pierre, and Fritz – who in turn “wake up the glee club!”
At once, the enchanted chamber is filled with twittering, twirling, and flapping as a host of animatronic birds suddenly come to life all around. Indeed, this Tiki Room “Under New Management” is so far identical to its predecessor in every way! This is a good sign…!
“Olé, olé! It’s showtime! In the Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, in the Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, all the birds sing words and the flowers croon in the Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Room! Welcome to our tropical hideaway, you lucky people, you! If we weren’t in the show starting right away, we’d be in the audience, too! All together! In the Tiki Tiki–”
As the birds sing the wonderful and timeless tune, you might begin to hear a grating honking sound, like a clown’s horn rasping in the distance. Less than thirty seconds into the attraction’s signature song, something new is happening. As the odd sound grows louder and louder, its origin emerges as Iago – the villainous sidekick from Aladdin – lowers on a central perch. “Stop the music, STOP THE MUSIC!” he shouts, voiced here as in the film by the skilled (but deliberately grating) Gilbert Gottfried. “What is that?! I’m gonna toss my crackers!” he cries as the Tiki birds gasp. “And these people below me? They ain’t gonna like that. Trust me!”
“Iago!” Our attention is drawn opposite where Zazu, the refined hornbill from The Lion King scolds, lowering on his own perch.
“Well, if it isn’t Zero!”
(First, you might be struck by the odd juxtaposition of Iago and Zazu. While, admittedly, they’re both birds, their similarities end there. Aladdin and The Lion King, their respective films, exist a world apart and in different continuities. But in the direct-to-video spirit of 1990s Disney Channel cartoons, these two appear to be old friends… er, enemies?)
“Be forewarned, Iago, you cannot toy with the Enchanted Tiki Room.”
Zazu’s prohetic warning of the sancticity of the Tiki Room falls on deaf ears. No feathers off Iago’s back, he promptly calls the Tiki birds “bird brains,” announces that he and Zazu have purchased the Tiki Room, and tells the choir that they’d better not get too attached; if they want to keep their jobs, they’ve got to get hip. (This does not bode well…)
He kicks off a new rendition to the tune of Aladdin’s “Friend Like Me:”
You are boring Tiki birds,
I’m a big cele-birdy.
That’s why I’m gonna go and change your show,
Ain’t it great to have a friend like me?
Can your tails do this? Can your wings do that?
Can you bad birds sing In punk or rap?
Can you rock and roll? Well, listen here!
It’s a whole new world, so you better get hip
Or your audience will disappear!
As the number closes, the birds tweet and whistle in alarm, and Zazu reminds Iago that the Tiki gods are always listening. Of course, that won’t slow Iago who tells “those Tiki-tacky, Polynesian, pineapple-pickin’, wood-for-brains, moron Tiki gods” off. The lights flash out as thunder rumbles.
Tiki totems around the room come alive, chanting together: “Uh-Oa, Uh-Oa, Uh-Oa-Oa-Oa!” At the center of the room, an ornate planter begins to steam and smoke. The ceremonial bowl is in fact an elaborate headdress on a concealed Tiki goddess: Uh-Oa, goddess of disaster. The seething goddess’ eyes pierce the darkness as she glows in ethereal hues.
As you might imagine, Uh-Oa has overheard Iago’s crushing words and is not pleased. The menacing goddess awakens the angry wooden totems around the room who chant darkly as she sings: “It won’t help to yell, you’re under my spell. Look out, parrot, you’re a dead duck!” With a wave her wand and a sinister, snarling “Aloha!” she sends Iago flying as he disappears in a burst of fog.
The wooden Tikis take over, rapping. Iago reappears burnt to a crisp and on crutches. He proclaims the new Tiki Room under his management a rousing success and decrees, “This place is gonna be a gold mine!” The birds finish off with a high energy conga straight out of The Merrymen’s “Feeling Hot Hot Hot” as guests exit, with Iago famously noting, “Boy I’m tired! I think I’ll head over to the Hall of Presidents and take a nap.”
“Right, off you go!” Zazu encourages, sending Iago away. And you’re likely to feel the same way. Want to relive the cartoon chaos of the Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management? See what you think of this updated, ’90s refurbishment here:
New management, new mess
So, what did you think? It’s the Tiki Room minus the songs you loved (aside from a brief opening cameo, interrupted by the headache-inducing Iago), and with the added benefit of some self-deprecating put-downs, a pretty scary animatronic goddess with a bad temper, and some jokes that likely make this show feel more like a bad leftover of Disney’s soggy direct-to-video sequels than a tribute to a timeless and beloved attraction.
The Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management might’ve been a serious misstep, but it didn’t last. Would you believe that it came to a fiery end? On the last page, we’ll dissect what happened and what we’ve learned. Read on…