Summary:
Disney Adults are grown-ups who derive singular, almost obsessive, joy from all things Disney. They devote countless hours and millions of dollars to Disney offerings, whether or not they have children. They’re avid fans of the films, devotees of the Disney theme parks, collectors of the vast world of Disney merchandise, cosplayers who dress in clothing inspired by Disney characters.
Their ranks are so large and their cultural impact so distinct that they have their own moniker and are an economic force unto themselves. They’re often maligned in the larger culture and put on a particularly high pedestal of cringe. But in truth, their obsessive fandom hints at a universal desire for pleasure and joy, for magic and escape.
There are darker sides to Disney mania that can’t be ignored, but the ranks of the Disney Adult community are broad, deep, and ever-growing. Disney Adults are a telling microcosm of modern America, highlighting the value we place on magic and escapism, and what we deem to be “acceptable” sources of joy.
Review:
Being a bit of a Disney Adult myself, albeit a low-key one, I was really interested to see what this book had to say about the phenomenon. It’s true that Disney isn’t just for kids–it never really was. Walt Disney’s thinking, especially when it came to the parks, was that anything he produced should be something that the entire family could enjoy together. It’s only natural that kids raised with this view of Disney would retain that love as they entered adulthood. That certainly was the case for me.
I’ll give it to Wolfe: she has the Disney chops to give her words weight. She’s the creative mind behind the Disney Food Blog, so not only does she have the experience of researching Disney, she has interacted with fans of all stripes and been part of the online fan experience. It seems to have given her a unique opportunity to engage with the question of defining a Disney Adult in a manner that is neither patronizing nor pulls any punches.
Because let’s face it, I’m sure we’ve all seen stories of adults in the Disney Parks being “too much”. The ones who scoop up merchandise only to resell it; the ones who behave as if their experience in the parks is the only one that counts; the ones who ruin the experience for everyone around them. Wolfe doesn’t shy away from the darker sides of Disney Adult fandom–far from it. She talks about people who practically bankrupt themselves to collect merchandise, to use one example. Anything, when taken to an extreme, can be maladaptive.
Wolfe also shows the side of the fandom that appeals to our better angels: the cosplayers who bring joy to children in the hospital and the ones who form communities that accept those involved in them unconditionally. She reminds us that joy has no age limit, and what you enjoy can uplift both you and those around you. Even as a middle-aged woman, I still find tons of enjoyment on the rare occasions that I can visit Disneyland, and Disney animated movies are a comforting old friend to return to when life gets stressful.
Beyond all of this, Wolfe has a fascinating chapter on how social and political issues have influenced Disney. She touches on the company’s very public feud with Florida governor Ron DeSantis, and their wrestling with issues of forward-facing diversity and inclusion in their movies and television shows. While they certainly aren’t perfect and have made many high-profile blunders, the picture painted here is of a company feeling its way, learning to navigate the waters of social media and its groundswell opinions (which, let’s face it, we’re all still grappling with), and hopefully improving as a result.
Overall, this book is a compelling look at one of the most recognizable fandoms on the planet. Given how very public most of our lives have become, there’s a value in reading this book even if you’re not curious about Disney Adults in particular. Fandoms have become a huge part of our culture, and understanding them is something that I’d encourage everyone to do.
