Chapter 24: Ub Would Be Proud
Excerpt from: From a Figment to a Reality: The Imagineering Method! by Marty Sklar
All of the Imagineers were excited to bring the Henson Creature Shop into the family. We’d been working for years with them by that point and already knew their bountiful talents and imagination. It had gotten to the point where WED and Creature Shop employees were going back and forth between the two locations on assignment and rotation so frequently that some took the official merger more as an acknowledgement of reality than any real change.
The biggest change was, really, the name. WED was rebranded as Walt Disney’s Imagineering Workshop, or the “I-Works”, as we inevitably called it in honor of Ub Iwerks. His son Don Iwerks, who’d been with us since the 1950s, was naturally chosen to cut the ribbon at the “grand reopening” and soon became VP of the Creatureworks after its first VP Faz Fazakas retired in ‘87. The I-Works was represented by Figment from the Imagination Pavilion as the mascot.
I was soon surprised to become Creative Vice President of the I-Works, now a co-equal “finger” on the Great Mickey Glove of the newly reorganized Walt Disney Entertainment Company. Carl Bongirno deservedly remained President and Chairman. We subdivided the I-Works into three “Works” departments (“fingers within a finger”). The first was the Funworks, represented by Mary Poppins, which was made up of the core of the old MaPo machine shop and which specialized in the parks and attractions. It was tied primarily to Walt Disney Recreation, but frequently assisted in studio effects and set design. My close friend and mentor John Hench became its Vice President.
Second was the aforementioned Creatureworks, represented by the giant squid from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, which was made up of the merger of the Henson Creature Shop and the Disney studio practical effects group, and which specialized in practical effects and animatronics for film and TV. It was primarily tied to Walt Disney Studios and Hyperion, but worked closely with the Funworks to support the parks as well. Faz Fazakas was the first Vice President, soon to be replaced by Don Iwerks.
Third, but hardly last, was the Softworks[1], represented by the robot SMRT-1 from CommuniCore, which specialized in software and industrial controls development. It was tied closely to Funworks and the parks, but became increasingly tied to Creatureworks and Disney Studios, in particular the Disney Digital Division, as computer effects became increasingly central to both live action and animation productions. George McGinnis became its first Vice President.
Finally, at the specific request of Jim Henson and Frank Wells, we created an advanced research division called the “Brainworks”, made up of lots of highly educated and highly experienced experts on physics, computers, engineering, psychology, optics, acoustics, botany, and crowd dynamics. The Brainworks was specifically designed to explore the bleeding edge of science and technology and adapt it to the guest experience[2]. The logo was a brain and crossed lightning bolts.
Since we worked independently with all of the other fingers on the “Mickey Glove” of the company, we lobbied hard and successfully to become the “thumb” in the organizational artwork.
The Henson gang and the Imagineers were kindred spirits from the start. While the rest of the Disney employees (save maybe the animators) were inevitably clean cut and outwardly wholesome (heck, the park employees had to follow a strict 1950s-based appearance code for years!) the Imagineers by that point increasingly looked like a caravan of shipwrecked pirates with all the long hair, facial hair, tattoos, and piercings (you should check out Joe Rhode's ever expanding ear ring collection!). The “Henson Hippies” of the Creature Shop were a natural fit. Soon the wackiness of Henson and the dreaminess of Disney were shaken and stirred into a potent and bizarre cocktail of creativity. Henson’s strict quality standards and ethical rules fit well within the framework of what would become “Mickey’s 10 Commandments” for the park experience.
And we cherished Jim Henson most of all. After all, he’d saved our budget. After EPCOT failed to meet management’s unrealistic expectations, Card blamed Imagineering for the cost overruns and low attendance, and we were on his chopping block[3]. Dick Nunis was openly angling to take us over. Ron didn’t seem to be coming to the rescue either. From the first day we guided Jim, dreamy-eyed, through the workshops of WED, he had been a champion of Imagineering and fought to keep us properly funded. He also visited frequently, offering clever ideas and input on a variety of upcoming projects, in particular the Imagination Pavilion, which was “the Disney attraction [he] would have built.” He gave us just about anything we wanted. You could even say he gave us his first-born son! At the time of the merger Brian was away at school at Caltech in Irvine, but he’d already become a popular part of the Imagineering team and the initial grumblings about “nepotism” had long since faded away. Brian would return in ’87 with a mechanical engineering bachelor’s degree from Caltech and an “honorary doctorate in cool” from the Imagineers after the Mickey prank on MIT. Even the MIT grads gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up on that one, appreciating a good “hack” even if they were the target.
And speaking of friendly rivalries, as the I-Works became increasingly involved in the movie effects world, a rivalry naturally formed with George Lucas’ Industrial Light & Magic, or ILM. George, by that point a part-owner and associate board member at Disney, took the competition with a grain of salt since he was profiting either way. The two studios were frequent competitors at the awards shows and, naturally, highly competitive with one another even as we subcontracted work to each other when necessary to meet deadlines or fill skill gaps. We became known in the industry the “two I’s” and crossover between the two became increasingly common, both from formal rotational assignments and from the outright poaching of each other’s’ talent.
Pretty soon just about everyone in the effects industry had spent some time at one or both of the I’s. Expressions like “cross-I’s” became commonplace in the industry for people who went from one I to the other or “cyclops” for a person who loyally stuck with one I. I-Works became the “left I” due to our growing reputation as a chaotic, free-spirited place in the midst of the greater LA sprawl where folks worked hard and partied hard. ILM, up in serene, bucolic Modesto became the “right I” with its quiet, hierarchical, structured organization. The “I-binary sorting algorithm” or just “sorting algorithm” described the process by which the more extroverted, urbane, and sociable people gravitated to the I-Works while the more introverted, private people who preferred the quiet life gravitated to ILM, reinforcing the “left” and “right I” stereotypes.
IBM even briefly got into the game, trying without success to spin itself up as the “third I” with its short-lived IBM Entertainment Effects division.
And suddenly Imagineering became an industry in its own right with people putting the title on their resumes or employment goals regardless of the employer, even as Disney maintained a strictly enforced trademark on the word itself. People introduced themselves as “Imagineers” and producers and directors sought out “Imagineers” for their movies, whether the people worked for the I-Works or not.
To be an Imagineer meant to transcend the artificial divide between the arts and sciences, to put physics to work in making art and entertainment in order to bring people together. Trademarks or not, people were and are justifiably proud to call themselves Imagineers. And Ub, looking down on us from on high, must certainly be proud to see the “I-Works” going strong.
[1] This name would later create IP confusion with the Softworks, Inc., IT company, founded in 1984, leading to the moniker “Imagineering Softworks” to avoid confusing the two. And just so you all know, I resisted naming this branch “Dreamworks” despite the strong temptation to do so for irony.
[2] Wells launched a similar Disney Advanced R&D division in our timeline.
[3] This was true in our timeline too, where Michael Eisner became their champion and savior.