Mr. Toad's Wild Ride was a wondrous Magic Kingdom enigma.  Wild hardly began to describe it, and Ride seemed an understatement.  As an attraction loved - vocally - by thousands, its departure from the park in 1998 was a clear signal that nothing was certain about the park's attractions or their longevity, and also that thunderous public petitioning would not be enough to save favorites from the wrecking ball.  It also broadened the perceived criteria for WDW management's justification of such destructive action...it didn't have to be an attraction that had lost its sponsor, like If You Had Wings or Horizons.  It didn't have to cost a ton of money to staff and maintain, like 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea and it didn't have to be suffering from chronic under-visitation, like the Walt Disney Story or the Kitchen Kabaret.

     All it had to be was a relatively easy give on the road to somewhere in particular.  In the case of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, that other destination was the Hundred Acre Wood.  If the company was to build a Winnie-the-Pooh ride in the Magic Kingdom - something it could extensively promote and expect to generate new excitement among visitors - the most economically logical starting point would be within the existing walls of an older, less tangibly valuable attraction.

     So MTWR ended up being the oddball tenant on a piece of commercially desirable Kingdom real estate. And given the company's 1995 decision to do away with Main Street's charming but sinister House of Magic (in order to use the space as part of the new, much larger Main Street Athletic Club sports & sport clothing store,) the prospects for quirky old-timers in the path of things more market-friendly was already grim.

 

     But one could have effectively postulated that Mr. Toad's Wild Ride was doomed from the day it opened.  Unlike Fantasyland's other dark rides, Peter Pan's Flight and Snow White's Scary Adventures, MTWR did not draw from "classic" Disney characters with a widespread domestic popularity base.  Mr. Toad, Ratty, Moley and MacBadger hailed from a 1949 Disney adaptation of Kenneth Grahame's The Wind In The Willows, first published in 1908.  It introduced those characters and others who dwelled along the river bank and the Wild Wood, and gave an accounting of how their daily life was disrupted by their neighbor Mr. Toad's insatiable thirst for motor cars.  While the story grew to be treasured in its native England, it never enjoyed far-reaching stateside success. Disney's film treatment of the tale - while in some ways a fantastic work - did little to improve that situation. The first Mr. Toad's Wild Ride opened at Disneyland in 1955. It was built when the film was only a few years old, and absorbed a motif that was perfect for a Disney incarnation of old amusement park dark rides: a manic spin in a motor car through Foggy London Town. The ride was put together on a modest budget but became a park favorite, no doubt due to its ceaseless energy and crazy singularity. Given the time period, everything about it made sense.

     What seems inexplicable in hindsight is that Disney chose to build an updated version of MTWR when construction on WDW began fourteen years later.  In 1969, Winnie-the-Pooh had three years hence made his screen debut and was well on his way to becoming a household name and formidable merchandising presence.  It was by then clear that Pooh's impact on American culture was to be infinitely more profound than that of Mr. Toad.  As further evidence of this condition, none of the characters from The Wind In The Willows were given a spot in WDW's Mickey Mouse Revue, whereas Pooh, Piglet and Rabbit had places in the show's orchestra.  So it's remarkable that Disney didn't choose to build on the hungry yellow bear's snowballing popularity by erecting a tie-in ride during Pooh's initial heyday...and even more so considering that Mr. Toad was, again, getting his own attraction.  And it wasn't in any sense a carbon copy of the Disneyland original, but rather a sprawling two-track version with numerous intricacies and details foreign to its predecessor and multiple scenes that could only viewed by riding each track separately.  What other Disney ride ever offered that added dimension?  Attractions such as Space Mountain, Mission To Mars, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion and the Grand Prix Raceway had either multiple lanes, tracks, theaters, queue or pre-show areas, but only WDW's Toad ride presented what was a truly different ride experience based on which side of the queue you chose.  It was the only time in Disney park history this has happened, and it happened for Mr. Toad.

     Given these facts, it makes the ride's 27-year existence appear something of a mistake - a glorious accident rife with oddities not found elsewhere in the world: within its purlieu were a truckload of bobbies shooting it out with a carful of armed weasels, a barmaid with stunning cleavage holding enough foamy beer to paralyze a horse, a full-blown gypsy camp in the midst of a musical celebration, a perplexed farmer dropping a bale of hay on riders' heads, an elephant trophy head that trumpeted a warning from its wall-mounted plaque, a painting of a nude woman and a suit of armor that toppled toward riders on cue. Toad Hall's first expansive chamber was possessed of a backwards elegance, its ceilings decked with banners of nonsense heraldry, its oak paneling lined with priceless paintings (whose subjects bore more than a passing resemblance to the master of the estate) and its focal point a teetering marble statue of Mr. Toad himself. Town Square, where previously divergent cars were reunited for a spin around the heart of a busy English village, was stocked with panicked citizens trying to avoid the motorized onslaught of vehicles circling another statue of Toad - this one spinning atop the upraised hoof of his equine companion Cyril. And the whole of the ride presented a constant uncertainty as to just how one's car would escape a particular environment: Would it be through the fireplace, a jail cell wall or a mountainous stack of barrels?  No matter which way riders swerved or ducked, all roads ultimately led to a direct collision with a speeding locomotive in a pitch-black tunnel and an audience with Satan, surrounded by a horde of grinning red devils in the volcanic bowels of hell.

    

     Trying to quantify the beauty of all that lunacy is futile.  Making sense of it is nearly as tough.  According to the ride's own mythology (Disney has printed background stories on hand as training materials for every attraction - regardless of their complexity), the action that takes place within is predicated on the conceit that it's all part of Toad's nightmare, or in their words, Toad's "crazy dream."  Although that sounds like a pretty weak grasp for logic, it has some validity.

     Those familiar with Disney's film treatment of The Wind In The Willows could easily discern that only a fraction of the settings and characters that were present in the ride corresponded directly to the film - fewer still are mentioned in Grahame's book.  So the ride contained some supplemental material in its depiction of scenes such as the gypsy camp - from whence came Toad's canary-colored cart and Cyril - and also in Toad Hall's Trophy Room and Kitchen areas where the domestic staff (butler in the Trophy Room, ice delivery man and cook in the kitchen) were found in snapshots of Toad's home life.  This was some rich territory being mined and much of it had to come from Toad's own sphere of reference.  If it was all truly Toad's dream, then the ride is set sometime after he had came into possession of his stolen motor car via the weasels he first met in Winky's Pub ... also after his ordeal with the law, imprisonment and escape involving a stolen locomotive. The telltale marks of his documented escapades are rearranged here in a fantastic, unreal melange.  Plus the dream theory is really the only way you can account for a motor car being driven down the river where Ratty's house is found, inside a prison cell or through Toad Hall itself.   But it's essentially immaterial whether you can overlay any semblance of reason atop the ride.  It is, after all, ultimately derived from a tale about anthropomorphic woodland creatures involved in human-like discussions and events.  So at its heart it is a trifle.  But of course so is Pooh.

     In both subject matter and setting, there are many common threads between The Wind In The Willows and the Pooh stories. The characters themselves invite direct comparisons, with Tigger sharing Toad's exuberance and bravado, Piglet possessing Mole's reticent good nature, Rabbit appropriating Ratty's fussy penchant for tradition / propriety and Owl borrowing a portion of MacBadger's grandfatherly wisdom.  A.A. Milne was a great admirer of Grahame's 1908 book and produced a variation of it for the London stage in 1930, with Grahame attending the debut performance.  So there is little chance that the similarities in the books are coincidental (the first Pooh book was published in 1926).  Milne was reportedly anxious about Grahame's reaction to the show, fearing that it would disappoint the elderly author - reportedly it did not.  Imagine the horror Milne would have felt to learn that a ride based on his characters would one day uproot one based on those of Grahame.

    

     Still, it might have disconcerted both authors considerably more had they known that their creations would one day be known largely across the globe for what someone else did with them - much as P.L. Travers' Mary Poppins is recognized almost exclusively as the province of Disney due to the immensely popular 1964 film of the same name.  Travers attended the film's premiere and was dissatisfied, in particular, with Dick Van Dyke's portrayal of Bert the chimney sweep.  Yet the Van Dyke Bert will endure as the real thing in the general public's collective consciousness, as it has for nearly forty years. Mr. Toad escaped this fate to some extent and has enjoyed several quality, non-Disney retellings since 1949, much like Alice in Wonderland.  The Disney versions, however, doggedly persist in at least appearing definitive.  Especially to children.

     All that philosophizing aside, what's fundamentally sad about the way things worked out between Toad and Pooh at WDW is how each of the literary properties could not in the end receive equal in-park representation. There's no question that a Winnie-the-Pooh ride was a natural addition to the Kingdom.  But there was more than sufficient proof to demonstrate that Mr. Toad's Wild Ride had come to be prized on its intrinsic merits by park visitors long before the company ever announced its intentions to shut it down. It always drew crowds in spite of the fact that guests were split into two separate queues. To alleviate the situation, in the fall of 1993 the ride underwent a rehab during which the 36 original cars, each of which could comfortably sit two adults, were replaced by new models which could accommodate four adults. The change only slightly reduced the average length of each queue because so many people wanted to go on this ride repeatedly. One outcome of the adulation was the spat of public outbursts in 1998 from a group that had learned about the impending shutdown. They gathered in the park, some wearing green shirts (naturally, because Toad was brown) and carrying signs that read "Save Mr. Toad's Wild Ride." The Orlando Sentinel covered the "protests."  WDW Employees got in on the act.  It didn't matter - the ride closed for good on September 7 of that year.

   Therefore the only remaining Mr. Toad's Wild Ride is at Disneyland, on the site of the original same-named attraction.  It's not the same rudimentary Toad that opened there in 1955; that original attraction closed along with the rest of DL's old Fantasyland in 1981 and underwent a major renovation.  The current version opened in 1983.   While its exterior, the fully-dimensional Tudor-style Toad Hall, exceeds in presentation the original medieval tent entrance (and that of WDW's Toad), the ride itself is compromised.   I say that of course as someone who grew up with WDW's version.  I'm sure people who grew up with the original DL Toad love the new one because it beats the socks off its predecessor.  But WDW's Toad by far surpassed both DL versions in every manner except for its medieval tent facade.

  

     Not only was the WDW incarnation larger, with the aforementioned two tracks, but either half of the ride taken on its own was still a more involved than and a stylistically superior experience to the DL ride. To a large extent, credit for this must be given to Disney artist Rolly Crump for his oddball, hyperchromatic design style.  Crump's contributions to DL and WDW are fairly well-documented, with his most enduring work having been many of the toys and kinetic elements of both parks' It's A Small World rides, his wild tiki designs and several props for the Haunted Mansions*.  Some of the character designs he came up for WDW's Toad borrowed from the stylized treatments seen in 1961's The Saga of Windwagon Smith.  In that short film one sees the genesis of the many animals and people that came to populate Mr. Toad's Wild Ride in Florida.  Molly Crum (below right), who served drinks in the Star of the West Saloon, looks similar to the barmaid in Winky's Pub (below left).  The little dog that freaked out when the windwagon rolled into town is a close cousin to the freaked-out dog in MTWR's Town Square.  And Mayor Crum shares nearly the same profile as the constable in the Jail scene.  Only the characters that came straight from The Wind in the Willows film were not subjected to this treatment, and the blend of the two categories was nearly seamless. 

     Disneyland's 1983 Toad ride attempts to infuse its confined spaces with third-dimensionality through trompe l'oiel painting techniques and a few sculpted pieces added where space was available (it borrows the statue of Cyril and Toad that first appeared in WDW's Toad).  But at Disneyland the scenic artwork overreaches and the passageways feel claustrophobic.  WDW's Toad was much more open in terms of its floor plan, with larger rooms that enabled several twists and turns in any given space.  Town Square alone was massive, with both tracks circling a grassy planter and leaving enough room on the outer perimeter for a wide range of townspeople caught up in the chaos.

     

     The ride's artwork also reveled in simplicity.  Outside of the fantastic mural in the load area (with its drop-dead beautiful treatment of Toad Hall, the countryside and the ride's key characters), the ride was very much like driving through Syd Barrett's coloring book.  Less effort went toward lending its flat plywood characters and scenery false shadows or extra dimension than was the case at Disneyland.  At WDW a few key pieces were completely three-dimensional, but most of the ride achieved its depth by staggering flat pieces out closer to the track (giving the ride something of a multi-plane camera feeling to it).  It worked amazingly well.  Disneyland's Toad corridors are too narrow for this same effect to be given a chance to succeed.  While some of the artwork inside is more detailed than was Florida's, it is unfortunately not as outrageous, fun and colorful as what Crump perpetrated in the sunshine state.  And Disneyland's generic human characters are missing the cohesive cartoon madness that Nordli's stylization brought to those in the WDW version.

     So unfortunately there's no longer a Disney attraction that truly matches the insanity WDW's Toad sublimely offered for just over a quarter-century.  Without expecting to capture its glory in words, I will still attempt further written explanation of the ride's main aspects.


      
     Approaching the attraction from any direction, guests could see past the entry facade and sheltered queue to the detailed Load area mural.  At opposite ends of the mural were mirror image train tunnels from which emerged two neverending streams of motor cars, freshly returned from each track's satanic finale.  Lining the bridge over each tunnel were the principal characters from the ride (Toad, Cyril, MacBadger, Ratty, Moley and Winky) along with some gypsies, weasels and bobbies.  Leading away from the tunnels, past each track's Unload, Load and Dispatch points, was an idyllic depiction of the English countryside dotted with thatched-roof cottages and lush rolling hills.  Throughout the Load area and queue echoed the lilting refrain of "The Merrily Song" (the only lyrical music from Disney's Toad film, written by Churchill, Gilbert, Morey & Wolcott) and the constant recorded instructions to "Step out to your right...when the car stops, step out to your right please."  The focal point of the entire scene was stately Toad Hall, with its turrets, parapets and eleven (!) chimneys.  Cars funneled into its central Tudor arch portal, where they separated and burst through the first of many walls in their catastrophe-bound journeys.  Both tracks began in the Toad Hall scene, where they had their first of several near misses with both other cars and "obstacles" in their path. The marble statue of Toad swiveled toward the cars as if ready to crash, while opposite the statue the amicable Moley stood on a high-backed yellow chair and tipped his hat at riders.

     From that point on the cars went their own way within the Hall and, as mentioned above, encountered unique situations along each route. Riders on Track A doubled back from the statue of Toad toward the doors leading to the Trophy Room and riders on Track B headed straight into the fireplace at the opposite of of the room, which gave way and allowed them into the Library.  How the tracks played out scene by scene is charted below:
 

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

Extinct WDW Attraction

Location:
Fantasyland,
Magic Kingdom

Opened: October 1, 1971
Closed: September 7, 1998

Ticket Required:
C (1971 - 1980)

Contributing Disney Personnel:
Rolly Crump

Descendant of:
Disneyland's original (1955)
Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

Space later became:
The Many Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh

Remnants:
Two allusions to Toad in Winnie-the-Pooh ride and a Toad statue in the Haunted Mansion's pet cemetery

Influences evident in:
Disneyland renovated (1983) Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, Disneyland Paris'
Toad Hall Restaurant

Related sites:

Spencer Cook's
Virtual Toad
(see it to believe it)

Widen Your World's
YouTube Channel


Thanks to
Christopher Merritt
and
Ross Plesset
for their help with my
research on
Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

All photos copyright
The Walt Disney Company.
 Text copyright 2008
Mike Lee

TRACK A SCENES

Toad Hall
Trophy Room
Kitchen
Gypsy Camp
One Way Street
Town Square
Winky's Pub
Keg Room
Blackout
Rain Room
Train Tunnel
Hell

 

TRACK B SCENES

Toad Hall
Library
Blackout
Barnyard
Barn
One Way Street
Town Square
Jail
Prison
Shireland
Train Tunnel
Hell
 

Afterthoughts

     Thanks to 1988's Who Framed Roger Rabbit, the weasels from Disney's Wind in the Willows were reincarnated back into a more common latter-day usage, although now the Roger Rabbit hype is also vanquished.  At least it didn't settle before the weasels were committed to a fairly permanent home in Disneyland's Toontown. Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin, another dark ride, houses a healthy array of the villainous vermin (fully sculpted,) wreaking havoc on Roger Rabbit, Benny the Cab and Jessica Rabbit.  Some of today's young visitors to that park who have yet to see the pertinent films must wonder exactly what the connection is between those weasels and the ones in Mr. Toad's Wild Ride...the same way I used to wonder if the teenage daughters from Space Mountain's Home of Future Living and GE's Carousel of Progress ever called each other on the phone to talk about Elvis or Blondie.

     If you want to see Mr. Toad at Disney World today, you have to either ride The Many Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh and catch the picture of Toad handing over the deed to Toad Hall to Owl (this image appears inside Owl's windswept house), look to the top of the pet cemetery outside the Haunted Mansion or go to the World of Disney store at Downtown Disney.  There you can find his likeness and those of his closest companions, in a clerestory mural, where they are causing a commotion on an English street. The weasels are there also, being scattered about. Maybe it's just a a coincidence that Benny the Cab is seen in the background, as a chance representative of the one other film besides The Wind In The Willows to feature the weasels. Or, more probably, it was completely deliberate in light of the fact that yellow taxis are all but unheard of in the U.K.

      One great outcome of the WDW version being so well loved is that it has inspired a phenomenal effort on the part of a Mr. Spencer Cook to rebuild the ride in stunning digital detail, right down to the black light glow bouncing off the walls.  Visit his Virtual Toad page for a pleasant shock.

     There is of course still the Disneyland version of the ride, which should by no means be shunned for its failure to rival the WDW incarnation. It is in its own right a very enjoyable experience and worthy of what I hope will be a long and prosperous existence. Additionally, for those fortunate enough to visit Disneyland Paris there is the quaint Toad Hall Restaurant which affords you the opportunity to stroll leisurely and dine within the charming estate through which those of us raised in the U.S. only got to drive motor cars.

Hear a live sample of Town Square background audio
mp3 file, 1.8mb, 1:57, recorded in 1990 by yours truly - my gift to you (I guess)
listen closely as guests scream and doors are knocked open by cars - it's heavenly as hell

* WDW's Toad ride was in fact the closest that any Disney attraction came to being a realization of Crump's "Museum of the Weird" concept.  Although The Haunted Mansion saw a few of his prop designs come to life, MTWR was the first and only full-blown execution of Crump's 'Weird' color scheme married to architectural and design motifs on any serious scale.