Virtual Thrills vs. Real-World Rides: How Video Games and Theme Parks Create Immersive Worlds.

Theme parks and video games may seem like separate entertainment mediums, one exists in the digital realm, while the other thrives on physical experiences. But at their core, they share a fundamental goal: to transport audiences into immersive, carefully designed worlds.

Whether navigating the dense jungles of an action-adventure game or exploring a pirate-themed section of a theme park, both experiences rely on interactivity, storytelling, and emotional engagement to captivate their audiences.

Both theme parks and video games construct meticulously detailed environments designed to pull visitors into another reality. Game developers use cutting-edge graphics, sound design, and physics engines to craft believable digital worlds, while theme park designers rely on architecture, animatronics, and sensory effects to create physical spaces that feel alive.

For example, Disneyland’s Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge places guests inside the bustling streets of Batuu, complete with interactive elements and role-playing opportunities. Similarly, Star Wars Jedi: Survivor allows players to roam planets, interact with NPCs, and shape their own Star Wars adventure- all from their gaming chair. In both cases, the goal is the same: full sensory immersion into a beloved universe.

One of the most defining traits of video games is interactivity, the player’s choices shape the experience. Modern theme parks have increasingly embraced this principle. Attractions like Universal’s Super Nintendo World feature interactive wristbands that let visitors collect virtual coins and trigger effects in the park, just as players do in a Mario game.

Similarly, in open-world RPGs like The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, players are given the freedom to explore, experiment, and influence the game’s outcome. In both cases, the experience is dynamic rather than passive, making the guest (or player) an active participant in the adventure.

Both theme parks and video games rely on storytelling to create emotional engagement. A well-crafted game draws players into its story through character arcs, cinematic cutscenes, and environmental storytelling. Theme park attractions achieve similar immersion by using physical sets, animatronics, and scripted moments to make visitors feel like they are part of a larger narrative.

Take Disney’s Haunted Mansion, for example- it’s not just a spooky ride, but a complete story about ghostly residents and a supernatural mystery. Similarly, games like BioShock use environmental cues, audio logs, and in-game events to reveal a deep, unfolding narrative. In both cases, the audience isn’t just a spectator; they are part of the story.

Many games revolve around a progression system, players level up, unlock new abilities, or complete quests. Theme parks mimic this structure through reward-based interactions. Guests can collect souvenirs, complete scavenger hunts, or earn in-game achievements through theme park apps. Some attractions even have competitive scoring elements, like Toy Story Midway Mania, where riders rack up points by shooting virtual targets- much like an arcade game.

Both mediums thrive on evoking strong emotions- excitement, wonder, tension, and even fear. A roller coaster’s drop produces the same adrenaline rush as a high-speed chase in an action game. Horror games and haunted attractions share the same goal: to build suspense and deliver heart-pounding moments. Even sound design plays a crucial role, both games and rides use music, voice acting, and environmental audio to heighten immersion.

While video games and theme parks take different approaches to immersion, they ultimately achieve the same goal: crafting unforgettable, interactive experiences that transport us to new worlds.

As technology advances, the lines between these mediums continue to blur, theme parks now use augmented reality and gamification, while video games incorporate more physical interactions with VR and motion controls.

Whether you’re piloting a spaceship in a sci-fi RPG or riding a simulated spaceflight at an amusement park, the sense of adventure, discovery, and engagement remains the same.

In the end, both experiences remind us why we love to explore, whether in pixels or in person.

The Importance of Narrative in Experiential Design.

In the world of theme park design, rides, attractions, and immersive spaces aren’t just about thrills or spectacle, they’re about storytelling. Narrative is the backbone of experiential design, transforming physical environments into emotional journeys that engage visitors on a deeper level. Without a strong story, a theme park or experiential spaces can feel like a collection of unrelated attractions rather than a cohesive, immersive world.

A great theme park experience doesn’t just entertain, it makes people feel something. Whether it’s the adventurous spirit of Pirates of the Caribbean, the futuristic optimism of Tomorrowland, or the whimsical charm of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, narrative is what creates that emotional resonance. When guests step into these environments, they’re not just visitors; they become part of the story.

Theme parks are large, complex spaces with multiple attractions, retail areas, and entertainment experiences. Without a unifying narrative, these elements can feel disjointed. A well-crafted story creates a seamless experience where everything—architecture, lighting, sound design, even food offerings—feels interconnected.

For example, Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge at Disneyland and Disney World isn’t just a collection of Star Wars-themed rides; it’s an entire world where the shops, restaurants, and cast members all contribute to the illusion that guests have traveled to the planet Batuu. The story extends beyond the rides, making every moment feel like part of an unfolding adventure.

Modern theme park design is shifting from passive experiences to interactive storytelling. Attractions like The Haunted Mansion or The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror guide guests through a structured story, but newer experiences, such as Rise of the Resistance or Super Nintendo World, allow guests to shape their own adventures.

Interactive experiences increase engagement and repeat visits. When guests feel like they have a role to play, they become invested in the world being built around them.

Every great theme park experience begins with a compelling story. This can be an original concept (e.g., Mystic Manor at Hong Kong Disneyland) or an adaptation of an existing IP (Avatar: Flight of Passage at Disney’s Animal Kingdom). The key is defining the world, its history, and the role guests will play in it.

Narrative isn’t just about dialogue or pre-show videos—it’s embedded in the physical space. The layout, architecture, signage, props, and even the wear-and-tear on surfaces should all tell a story. Expedition Everest at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, for instance, uses detailed set dressing—like travel posters and “found objects” in the queue—to establish a believable mountaineering expedition gone wrong.

Great experiential design goes beyond the visual. Sound design, music, scent, temperature, and even texture can reinforce a story. Walking through Diagon Alley at Universal Studios, guests hear distant conversations, smell butterbeer, and feel the uneven cobblestone streets underfoot—all of which make the world feel real.

The best theme park experiences feel dynamic, as if the story continues even when guests aren’t watching. Street performances, roaming characters, and live actors help create the illusion that the world is alive. At Galaxy’s Edge, guests might see Rey avoiding Stormtroopers or interact with a merchant who treats them like a visitor from another planet. These unscripted moments add layers to the narrative.

With advancements in technology, theme parks are pushing the boundaries of experiential storytelling. Augmented reality, AI-driven interactions, and real-time guest personalization are allowing for deeper levels of immersion. Experiences like Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser (a now-closed but ambitious experiment) hinted at the potential for multi-day, interactive storytelling where guests’ choices impact the outcome.

As theme parks evolve, one thing remains clear: narrative is not just an added layer—it’s the foundation of truly memorable experiential design. When done right, storytelling transforms a theme park visit from a simple day out into a lifelong memory.

Your Portfolio Is Not Your Potential: The Limits of a Commercial Artist’s Gallery.

As a commercial artist, my portfolio/ gallery isn’t necessarily a reflection of my full range of abilities—it’s a reflection of what I’ve been asked to do.

I'm sure you've experienced something similar.

Our folios are a curated selection of work based on briefs, client needs, and industry trends. While it might showcase skill and professionalism, it rarely tells the full story of what you could do if given the chance and often shows a few select images from projects that in reality required the creation of hundreds, if not thousands of designs- which clearly couldn't fit in your gallery.

When working in the entertainment industry, in areas such as computer games, film, themed experiences, theme park rides or advertising, an artist’s role is primarily to execute someone else’s vision. Art directors, production managers, and clients dictate style, subject matter, and constraints. The result can be a portfolio filled with work that represents past assignments rather than personal ambition.

Even for experienced artists, this can create an incomplete picture of their true range. A concept artist known for sci-fi environments may be just as capable of designing whimsical fantasy characters, but if their past jobs didn’t demand it, those skills remain hidden.

The reality is that many artists have broader skill sets than their portfolio suggests. Maybe you’re deeply passionate about impressionistic painting, but your day job only asks for photorealistic rendering. Maybe you're brilliant at character design but are hired exclusively for prop work. These unrepresented skills don’t make you any less capable, but they do mean your visible body of work doesn’t always align with your actual potential.

This limitation is compounded by the industry’s reliance on portfolios for hiring. Recruiters and art directors can only judge you by what you show them. If your gallery is restricted to a single style or genre, it may give the impression that you can’t do anything else, even when you can.

So how can we address this? If you want to show your full capacity as an artist, sometimes you have to step outside of client work and create projects that fill the gaps. That might mean creating the kind of art you want to be hired for, even if no one is asking for it yet, or experimenting with different styles, techniques, or subject matter outside of work, (if there are any hours left in the day!)

Regularly refreshing your gallery with work that reflects both your interests and your capabilities can be useful, again if you can find the time to produce the work, or maybe collaborate with indie teams or develop personal IPs to showcase your versatility.

A commercial artist’s portfolio is often a reflection of opportunity rather than raw ability. While it demonstrates professional experience, it doesn’t always communicate an artist’s full range of skills, passions, or creative potential. To truly represent yourself as an artist, not just a worker, you have to make space...and time... for the art you want to create, not just the art you’ve been paid to make.