At the gates to Toon Town, Disneyland's newest addition, a census sign covered with absurd symbols revolves like a stunned slot machine. Within the town's three acres are two centers. A Roger Rabbit fountain in one center sets the tone for an elaboration on the film's premise, in which the Toons have their own concurrent universe separated from the straight world by a semi-permeable boundary. Here, a horizon constructed of roplex, plywood, and paint is a convincing rendition of the multiple-plane look of the animated film. Across town in the other center, a Mickey Mouse monument anchors the whole concept: This is where Mickey, Minnie, and the original Disney cast members live and work.

Toon Town's design does indeed evoke a cartoon-based reality, more so than the rest of the park. Disneyland's overall architectural perversity and the density of the merchandising lays over the park like smog in the Valley. The stimuli sweep you along and make you want to belong. People who work there have told me of recurring dreams in which they have the whole place to themselves. This world is convincing not because it evokes nostalgia but because this is where Mickey lives - this is where he makes his movies. The illusions of Toon Town are present tense and three dimensional. Perception and sensation are not separated by goggles and gloves. When a kid shakes a tree full of acorns, they actually fall.

Toon Town is a tribute to the popular assimilation of techno-psychedelic design, and a fine point of departure for those thinking about contemporary immersion entertainment. Here, interactivity is as accessible as a doorknob.

Disneyland one-day pass: $28.75, Anaheim, California:
+1-714-999-4565.

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