In 2019, Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge opened in both Disneyland Park and Disney's Hollywood Studios; a canonical, participatory adventure in the Galaxy for theme park guests. (The above image is of the Hollywood Studios layout. Disneyland is the same, but rotated about 150 degrees clockwise). Narratively, this place is Black Spire Outpost, a docking facility on the planet of Batuu, whose location off the major routes makes it a favorite of those looking to travel without neo-Imperial entanglements. But today, I want to talk about how the layout of the place tells that story in a way that serves guest, and management, interests.
First the key to the color-coded image above:
- Orange: Docking bays
- Blue: Primary services
- Yellow: secondary services
- Purple: Resistance installations
What I love about Black Spire Outpost is that it's layout matches what I imagine a spaceport would have. It feels real that way. The nearest things to operating docking bays? Two places for drinks, a sandwich stand, and a repair bay for droids. Slightly farther out is a scrapyard, an auto shop, and a marketplace to serve people staying for longer than a quick pit stop. "Far" away, is a Resistance outpost hidden among mountains and ruins.
The exceptions are also the kind that make it feel organic, the result of time and tides rather than planning. A specialty antique store doesn't belong right up in the midst of the docking bays, but Dok-Ondar has been in this place forever, and he has powerful friends. Docking Bay 7 is the permanent berth of a captain that has converted it into a restaurant, because this place is never at full capacity anyway.
If you're treating the place as fully, truly real; the short walk to the Resistance base is silly. But it is around that bend in the path and not immediately visible. The cancelled transit ride through the land would also have helped sell the illusion of distance.
Not clearly shown is how vertical the space is. Lots of places are a short distance up or down, with tucked in courtyards or paths turning into balcony overlooks. It makes for great sightlines and photo spots, but also tells of an old, old settlement with layers of growth and planning. How many administrators have tried to change the street grade, and how many exceptions have been made?
Shop design also tells the land's story. The Resistance Supply is a series of mobile-seeming outdoor stands, that look like they were carted off of one of those big transport ships, ready to be packed up again in a hurry. First Order Cargo is built into the docking facility, commandeered when the First Order arrived, imposing on local activity. And they made the shortest path between the two biggest draws, the rides, go through the Marketplace building; the simplest and sneakiest way to drive sales.
There are also residences squeezed in and around. Some of the Marketplace stalls, like The Toydarian Toymaker, clearly have back room apartments for their owners. Doors and windows cluster around the un-highlighted areas, presumably homes for dockworkers and flops for scoundrels.
A lot of people on vacation planning blogs, the place people look for this sort of information, complain there isn't clearer signage. Everything is written in Aurebesh. Nothing uses the same style guide as the rest of the park. But if you try to navigate it as a city, if you follow the sound and smells, or just ask around, it's very easy to get where you're going. And it's more fun that way. It feels like actual travel, even though it's to an impossible place.