Is Epic Universe REALLY that Epic?

[Danny]

[[INTRO & BAR HELIOS]]​

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I’d barely got into the meat of writing up my trip report from the Middle East (it WILL be finished and posted, I promise) before I was booked onto a very last-minute trip to Miami via Orlando.

Freshly opened and already supposedly rewriting the rulebook, there was simply no world in which I wasn’t going to shoehorn Epic Universe in.

At any cost.

With single-day tickets almost mythical in their scarcity, I opted for the two-day park-to-park ticket. Day one would be fully dedicated to Epic. Day two split between IOA and Studios, a nostalgic reset and a contrast to the gleaming newcomer, drawing crowds to the theme park capital of the world.

To set the tone, I spent the evening before at the Helios Grand Hotel, a jewel in the park’s resort offering and an architectural centrepiece. Even if you’re not staying there, it’s well worth a visit, particularly Bar Helios with its 360-degree panorama over Orlando and, more importantly, Epic Universe itself.

The bar is stunning. Elegant. Polished and modern, with a vaulted dome ceiling that showcases the constellations, reportedly accurate according to a quietly excited astronomer a few stools down. Its views are framed perfectly for golden hour. Getting a reservation here is no easy feat, and bar seating fills rapidly. But if you can get in early and secure a perch, it’s well worth lingering. Watching the new park shift from daylight to dusk is something of a visual masterclass with an elegant, slow-burn reveal of the lighting design, from hidden uplights to glowing spires and ride silhouettes emerging against the skyline.



The outdoor terrace should be the perfect place to eat. But unless you’re comfortable with guests leaning over your table for photos during the evening Celestial Fountain Show, it’s better saved for drinks only. That said, the transformation of the park during that final hour of daylight is spellbinding and this terrace is one of the finest vantage points from which to soak it all in.



Back on the ground floor, the observation deck out back offers a more tranquil but equally powerful perspective. The statue of Helios, perfectly aligned with Luna on the opposite end of the park, forms a deliberate and photogenic axis that becomes a must-capture moment for many. Once the crowds have filtered out post-show, the podium becomes a quiet and pleasant space lit with twilight hues, and the orchestral score gently weaves through the breeze. It’s theme park prelude as poetry.

[[PART 1 - ENTRY & WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER - MINISTRY OF MAGIC]]​

The next morning began with the now-familiar shuffle from the car park towards the grand entrance. A long queue in the baking muggy Floridian heat (one unfortunate lady collapsed at the security checkpoint, which put a temporary halt to batching proceedings), but one that otherwise quickly dispersed once the gates officially opened. The Chronosphere sits point and centre and anchors this new entry plaza. It’s a stunning new icon on the Orlando skyline and inevitably a magnet for smartphones, but that popularity becomes its own challenge. Getting a clean shot without guests walking through it is difficult, and if you’re not up for weaving through patches of photographers and dawdlers, it’s a small navigation headache.

Once through, the crowd splits cleanly and strategically to either side of Celestial Park.

Off to the right, the torrent of Potter fans surges toward Battle at the Ministryy, with a few branching off into Berk or, for the coaster geeks, a straight-line sprint to Stardust Racers. To the left, Nintendo fans dash for Mario Kart and Donkey Kong, while horror lovers beeline for Darkmoor in search of their monstrous fix.

We chose to fall in with the Ministry crowd, mostly for the sake of efficiency. The ride doesn’t open until 10am, but by joining the early surge, We could knock it out before the wait time spiralled north of 200 minutes, which it inevitably does. The surrounding Parisian Wizarding World feels immediately familiar in its design DNA; a spiritual cousin to Diagon Alley, with towering facades, tight urban canyons, and impeccable sightline control. It’s immersive, enclosed, and dense with detail. The wand interactivity here has been levelled up again, with more spell points than in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley combined, tucked cleverly into every crevice and corner.


However, at this time of day, the charm is momentarily sacrificed to crowd control. Extended queue lines take over the streets, guiding guests into the Ministry queue. And the queue itself? It’s long. VERY long. The initial walk-through offers little in the way of spectacle. You bypass the signature Floo Network fireplace entry element and end up in a plain, extended outdoor queue that seems to stretch on for eternity. Our own experience was unfortunately undercut when the floo network portals failed to emit smoke, robbing the scene of its magical flourish.

But all is forgiven the moment you step into the Ministry Atrium. This is one of those rare theme park moments that seems impossible. The scale, accuracy, and sheer presence of the room are astonishing, an uncanny recreation that immerses you instantly. The grand hall is accessible even to non-riders; you can walk in through the fireplaces (which were working later in the day) and marvel without needing to queue.

The ride’s full queue is designed for huge capacities, but it refuses to feel barren. Themed office corridors, Ministry departments, and magical touches abound. Worth noting: the Single Rider Queue skips many of these scenic pre-show rooms, so if you’re here with a serious Potterhead on for the lore, you’ll want to commit to the main queue.



As for the ride itself: it’s undeniably impressive. The animatronics are some of the most advanced Universal has produced, and the movement is fluid and lifelike. There’s one particular scene towards the end with Umbridge transitioning from physical set piece to media, with the ride’s conclusion scene at the trial showcasing the highest quality of Universal animatronic detailing yet. But it’s also the most screen-reliant of the Wizarding World’s three headliners. It leans heavily into high-tech motion simulation, and although it’s a polished package, it doesn’t stack up with the immediate “wow” factor of Forbidden Journey or even Gringotts. I wouldn’t call it a disappointment, far from it, but for those expecting a more tangible dark ride experience, this one leans firmly into cinematic action. I did feel a little shortchanged on the physical side of the sets, but mercifully, Epic Universe has a far better ride suited to that in a neighbouring area (more to come on that later).

Still, taken as a whole, from queue to exit, Battle at the Ministry is an anchor attraction with extraordinary production value. It may not reinvent dark rides or storytelling in the same way Universal has done previously, but it delivers an immersive spectacle that cements the ambition and direction taken with the Parisian Wizarding World.

Having disembarked Battle at the Ministry just 45 minutes after its official 10:00am opening, we wanted to take the opportunity to grab breathing room and find our bearings. With the big early-morning queue now ticked off, we resisted the temptation to dash to the next major headline immediately and instead allowed ourselves a slower pace. And there’s no better place to do that than Celestial Park.

[PART 2] CELESTIAL PARK​

Unlike its siblings at IOA and Studios (parks that throw you straight into narrative lands or immediate sensory assault) Epic Universe begins at a gentler tempo. Celestial Park is the central hub, but it’s not the usual traffic junction of people and purpose. It’s elegant. Calming.

It leans brilliantly into stylised design rather than the hyper-themed lands surrounding it, and that’s its strength. Shimmering fountains choreographed to subtle music, wide open walking paths that chew through crowds, impeccable landscaping, and water features all contribute to an environment that feels curated for moments to relax, unwind and reflect. For a park otherwise built around towering IPs, this is a chance for the original vision of the park to shine. You’re encouraged to do nothing for a moment, and it’s surprisingly effective.



We grabbed a beer from one of the small kiosks overlooking the fountain. No queue. No rush. We simply sat. Watching families, solo travellers and overprepared vloggers circle the central hub while the gentle melodies of Celestial Park’s score floated overhead? Pure bliss.



Of course, Celestial Park does include its own two attractions. Constellation Carousel is grand but not overdone. It’s presented as a high capacity, multi-generational headline entrance ride that adds a quaint twinkle to the area. Notably, multiple of the various gondolas on the ride were out of action, which does deter the visual aspect somewhat with the multiple ‘Out of Order’ signage speckled throughout the ride platform.

Celestial Park’s crown jewel, of course, is Stardust Racers. It’s Mack’s unapologetically spectacular gift to America.

You approach through a vast plaza dominated by the ride’s opening set-piece: the dual 180° turns and launch tracks that stretch boldly into the imposing station building. It’s theatrical in its own right, feeling like a kinetic sculpture that never stops moving. The structure itself, a kind of miniature echo of Chimelong Paradise’s colossal park shed, is scaled to fit Epic Universe’s tighter theming without losing any grandeur. Inside, it leans into its namesake, equal parts Victorian train station and celestial observatory, complete with vaulted beams and industrial-flair details that would feel right at home in a Jules Verne fever dream.



The queue, though elegantly styled, does start to feel like a slog; not quite a cattle pen, but close. It wraps around the rear of the coaster’s layout in a long oval formation, snaking back and forth without a huge amount of variety. There’s no big story moment to break it up, no sudden reveal or indoor scene, just steady progress in a covered canopy under the open sky. That said, it gives you clear sightlines of the layout. each passing train adding a spike of anticipation, and the progression is at least measurable if you keep count of the oval segments.

Eventually, you’re routed back to the station’s central hub, where lockers and security scans come next. This is where you choose your layout: yellow or green. We opted for yellow first (saving the green for a nighttime duel), and made our way upstairs to the loading platform.

Even here, another 10–15 minutes of platform queuing awaits as the ride hosts bustle with admirable efficiency. It’s evident the system could run smoother if they added the extra two trains (there were four running when we visited, and I believe the system is built to accommodate six), but it’s hard to be anything but impressed by the operation.

And the trains themselves? Stunning. Possibly the most beautifully designed Mack trains to date, a glowing blend of steampunk elegance and sleek modern flair. The nod to Back to the Future with the rear-mounted flux capacitors as they flicker away is a delight. The restraints are generous but comfortable, and with the blessing of a knowing ride host pal, I was granted just the right amount of looseness for what was about to come.

Let’s get one thing out of the way. Mack’s launches have never been their strong point. Compared to the raw punch of an Intamin, they often feel like polite suggestions rather than actual propulsion. But Stardust throws that legacy into orbit.

The initial launch begins predictably, with a solid but unspectacular rolling start. Then, just as your brain registers the “typical Mack” sensation, the train kicks. It steps up a gear mid-track with a surprising punch that’s both unexpected and genuinely thrilling. A Mack launch that takes you by surprise? Yes, really.

What follows is a symphony. The duelling aspect is executed to perfection, with head-on crossovers, mirrored dives, and the now-iconic Celestial Spin. a moment of such visual and physical genius that it feels like the ride is folding space itself. Trains pass within what feels like inches, twisting and tumbling in a synchronised pirouette across the sky. It’s as beautiful to observe as it is to ride.

And then there’s the airtime. Glorious, ridiculous, ejector airtime. You know it looks good in the aerial shots, what you don’t expect is just how aggressive it feels when paired with those open restraints. You lift hard. Over and over. At times, it genuinely feels like the ride is trying to launch you into the tourist helicopters buzzing over I-Drive.

There’s a second launch, too, almost forgotten until you hit it. It keeps the pace relentlessly high, never coasting to the finish line. And throughout it all, there’s a consistency that elevates Stardust Racers above most of its siblings: no matter the time of day, where you sit, or which side you ride, it delivers. It doesn’t sag. It doesn’t rattle. It just flows, fast, fluid, and joyful.

Is it a top ten? For me, yes, but it was close. Given the extreme similarities overall, I paired them as one for the ranking positioning. They only just dislodged Voltron from my personal list. Despite Europa Park’s homegrown offering with more immersive theming, sharper transitions, and greater variety of elements overall, Stardust remains a triumph in its own right.

It’s not the most intense, nor the most immersive. But what it is is one of the most consistently enjoyable pairs of coasters I’ve ever ridden. With its soaring onboard soundtrack, visually stunning layout, head-to-head train choreography and absolutely wild airtime moments, Stardust Racers is an ecstatic ride. A love letter to coaster enthusiasts that doesn’t forget to be fun for everyone else, too.

And at night? With the onboard lighting glittering against the sky and the duelling trains glowing like twin comets? It’s magic. Pure, joyful, diabolically clever magic. I had high expectations for Stardust Racers, and they delivered.

 

[Danny]

[PART 3 - SUPER NINTENDO WORLD | A GLITCH IN THE SYSTEM?]​

Having spent time with Hollywood’s more compact version of Super Nintendo World last year, I was naturally curious to see how Orlando’s much larger footprint stacked up. The expansion here feels like the definitive version; the fullest expression of what a Nintendo-themed land can be. And in many ways, it is. But that doesn’t always equate to a better experience.



Unlike the other portals in Epic Universe, which drop you straight into the heart of their respective lands, Nintendo’s entrance plays things differently. You step through the familiar green pipe, only to be met by a set of escalators. It’s a jarring transition that feels more like an airport terminal than an adventure.

However, the reasoning becomes clear at the top.

You emerge onto the viewing scape that overlooks the entire land, putting you at eye-level with the iconic pixel-stacked mountains and giving you a real sense of the scale and movement below. It’s dramatic as an intentionally curated reveal. But despite the scale and grandeur, it doesn’t quite replicate the emotional hit of walking into the world like you do in Hollywood, where the warp pipe deposits you straight onto the streets of the Mushroom Kingdom. That version may be smaller, but the scale of you being transported into that world feels a tad more personal.

With Mario Kart clocking in at a daunting three-hour wait (and having already experienced it in California) we diverted into the newest territory: Donkey Kong Country. This sub-land is entirely new to Orlando, and on paper it offers a welcome change of pace with its cartoony jungle setting.. But while it adds variety, the execution doesn’t quite stick the landing.

Visually, the area suffers from the opposite problem to the main Mushroom Kingdom. Where Mushroom Kingdom feels a little too crowded, bursting with kinetic energy in every corner . Donkey Kong Country is oddly open. There’s an emptiness to some of the sightlines that could’ve been softened with more environmental planting or layered theming. Despite having a roller coaster winding its way through, the area lacks focal spectacle and the same energy.


The queue for Mine-Cart Madness is, unfortunately, a significant weak point; arguably the biggest disappointment in the entire park. You begin with a long outdoor switchback under the unrelenting Florida sun, before moving into an equally uninspired indoor cattlepen. It’s not so much a themed queue as a holding pen, with blank stone-effect walls, a couple of interactives and animatronics, but with overpowering visual ceiling fans as the only form of overhead décor.

Given the level of immersive build-up across the rest of Epic Universe, this feels like a startling drop in quality, a queue that could sit just as easily outside a mid-tier Merlin coaster as it does in a billion-dollar Universal expansion. The visible showbuild infrastructure works against the ride before you’ve even sat down, and that’s only just the beginning.


When the time came to board, expectations were mixed. The ride vehicles themselves are more comfortable than anticipated, with a surprising amount of space and a smooth boarding process. The start of the ride gives a solid first impression, with enough rattle and shake to sell the idea of an untamed jungle mine cart.

But that headline gimmick, the track-jump effect, doesn’t quite deliver the thrill you might expect. Instead of heart-in-mouth airtime, you get a reserved, controlled motion that’s more visually impressive to bystanders than it is to riders. It looks dynamic. It feels... safe.

Even though the noticeable roughness to the ride works in the favour of selling this as a manic cart ride, elsewhere the lack of polish begins to show. Several interior sections feel unfinished, with visible supports and a noticeable absence of cohesive theming. These dark ride segments, rather than enriching the ride, act as abrupt visual breaks in the experience.

By the time you disembark, the overwhelming feeling is one of almost. Almost thrilling. Almost immersive. Almost what it could have been. The concept is great paired with the IP, but ultimately Mine-Cart Madness feels a little more like Mine-Cart Mishaps.


Back through into the Mushroom Kingdom, we opted for a more relaxed choice: Yoshi’s Adventure. With a manageable wait time and some excellent overhead views promised, it was a logical detour. But once again, expectations had to be adjusted.

The queue line here has the overall vibe that feels more like a midway dark ride than a land that shares real estate with Monsters Unchained and Battle at the Ministry In truth, it wouldn’t feel out of place on Blackpool Promenade alongside Peter Rabbit and The Gruafflo, and that’s not a comparison you want on a brand-new Universal attraction.



Thankfully, the ride itself is far more charming. Gently floating above the Mushroom Kingdom, Yoshi’s cars glide slowly along a winding track, offering panoramic views and a much-needed breather. It’s light on thrills, but that’s the point. The added egg-collecting interactivity, hitting the coloured buttons when passing their corresponding character, is simple but engaging, particularly for younger guests. It doesn’t revolutionise the dark ride formula, but it doesn’t need to. It’s gentle, sweet, and perfectly paced, complimenting Mario Kart in this space very well.

We opted not to invest in the Power-Up Bands either, but there’s clearly more interactivity here than in Hollywood. The “Oopsie, can’t afford a Power Up band!” audio sting when tapping an interactive element without a band is slightly patronising, but the underlying experience is still visible. There’s the ability to play here, even without paying.

In terms of scale, scope, and ambition, Orlando’s Super Nintendo World is undeniably superior to Hollywood’s. There’s simply more here. More space, more variety, more interactivity.

I will say (as I feel like I may have come across as overly negative in my views of Nintendo World here) in that, from my experience with Hollywood despite having not done it in Orlando, there are other standouts. Mario Kart itself has a fantastic queue line, which culminates in a technologically great dark ride. The AR overlay is a soft and nice touch, giving the ride that unique edge without being overcomplicated.

There’s also Toadstool Cafe which I enjoyed in California, particularly where the food presentation and quality was concerned. Operationally in California, the concept of the restaurant wasn’t up to the standard we expected, but I’ve been reliably informed these considerations have been taken into account and improved upon for the Orlando iteration.

But in chasing size, it feels like Universal may have let some of the polish slip. The showbuilds are more exposed. The queues feel unworthy. And the headline addition of Donkey Kong misses the mark in ways that take the shine off an otherwise groundbreaking concept.

That said, for guests who haven’t been to California or Japan, this is still a fantastic way to step inside the world of Nintendo. The energy, colour, and movement are all there. It just needs a few refinements to become truly Epic.

[PART 5 - ISLE OF BERK]​

I’ll hold my hands up. When How to Train Your Dragon was first announced as one of the anchor lands for Epic Universe, I was sceptical. Not because the franchise lacked quality, but because it lacked, at least in my world, immediacy. I hadn’t even seen the films. And even when I finally got around to watching the first one (yes, only the first), I still wondered if this was the right IP for such a prime chunk of real estate.

And then I walked into the Isle of Berk.

Now I get it.



From the very first steps through the portal, the land wraps you in warmth. That unmistakable John Powell score (one of the finest animated soundtracks ever composed in my opinion) echoes through the space. It enhances the atmosphere tenfold and it works beautifully.

Berk isn’t the most visually enclosed land in the park. Sightlines aren’t as tightly managed as in Darkmoor or Potter, and you do catch glimpses of Stardust Racers peeking above the cliffs, reminding you of the broader park beyond. But what it lacks in full isolation, it more than makes up for in heart.

Berk is a land of texture, moss-covered wood, dragon carvings, hand-painted shields, scorched barrels, and woven ropes. Every corner feels lived in, and every prop has purpose. It’s a Viking fishing village that’s been retrofitted for flying beasts, and you feel that in every nook. There’s a genuine playful authenticity in its weather-worn docks and towering wooden kids play equipment.

Located in the centre of the land is the Mead Hall, it’s a gem. Part feast hall, part bar, it captures the spirit of the village in a way that comes across as celebratory. Massive beams overhead, glowing lanterns, and a drinks menu with a genuinely creative twist. including a couple of custom meads and cocktails that feel spot on in curation.



It’s easy to miss if you’re racing from ride to ride. But take the time to pop in, order something offbeat, and just soak it up. We also grabbed the highly recommended mac and cheese cones from outside - another must-try.

Fyre Drill, the interactive Mack water ride was closed for the duration of the day, which I expected would have been crunching up queues given the Floridian heat.



The headliner here is Hiccup’s Wing Gliders, an Intamin family coaster that acts as the gateway for younger guests stepping up from the ‘kiddie coaster’ tier into something more substantial. Dual-loading platforms keep throughput high, and operations were smooth throughout the day.

I’d deliberately gone into this one with tempered expectations. It’s clearly not built for thrills, despite perceiptively looking like it has some moments, but that’s fine. Experiencing the ride alongside a non-enthusiast friend helped shift my perspective. What this coaster delivers isn’t adrenaline, it’s utter joy and a realistic sensation.

You’re swooping low over water. Banking around cliff edges. Swaying side to side like your wings are catching a rogue gust of wind. And thanks to the glass-smooth track and unobtrusive restraints, it’s a breeze. There’s a tangible joy to the movement which serves as kinetic poetry that perfectly captures the DIY spirit of flying a dragon cobbled together from wood and rope. It doesn’t have the wow factor of Hagrid’s across the resort, but it doesn’t try to. It’s confident in its purpose. And it nails it. Even with the mid course stop and second launch, it doesn’t feel like the pacing has been compromised. It serves well to the overall narrative, and enhances the coaster rather than detracting from it.

What I really liked about Isle of Berk is that whilst it may not have the dark thrills of Darkmoor, or the scale of Nintendo, it might just be the most complete land in the park. It wears its heart proudly, leaning into warmth, charm, and personality of the franchise. It’s not about scale or spectacle. It’s about feeling of the characters openly inviting you to step in and experience their world, and on that front, Berk flies the highest. I could sit here sampling the different drinks and soaking up the music for hours, much in the same was as Celestial Park

At this point, a weather delay across the park hit us, and stuck it out for multiple hours. This meant that what was being taken as a leisurely approach to the park was now subjected to time stress. There was still the second half of Stardust to experience and both of Darkmoor’s attractions. Something was going to have to face the cut, should the weather delay be lifted.

[PART 6 - DARK UNIVERSE]​

You don’t so much arrive into Dark Universe as slip into it, through the crumbling crypts and curling fog, winding past crooked fences and unlit paths, until the land opens up in front of you. It feels forgotten. Feral. And all the better for it.



The world-building is immersive in a different way to the wizarding or Nintendo portals. It feels lived in, but as though you aren’t wanted. It feels interconnected but not in an overly apparent way.

Every so often, the entire village surges to life with an electric pulse emanating from Monsters Unchained’s manor. It’s not a show in the traditional sense, but more of a tremor. The coils flash, the audio rumbles, lights flicker, and the soundtracks whine as if the machinery itself is in pain. It’s immersive, chilling, and brilliantly restrained. A park-wide orchestra for those paying attention.

And at the centre of it all? One of the best façades Universal has ever built. From a distance, Monsters Unchained makes itself known with an eerie magnetism. The manor is huge, towering yet asymmetric, its design language rooted in haunted Victoriana. During the day, it looms aided by fog, shifting light, and clever perspective work. At night, it glows remarkable colours. each hue licking across the spires and stones. It might be the most cinematic exterior in the entire park. It screams out for the attention of your eyes, your mobile phone and any followers you might have on social media.



Approaching the queue, the tone wobbles slightly. There are unfortunate glimpses of the ride building’s exterior wall, especially as you pass through the extended cattlepen, thankfully closed off during our visit. It’s the only part of the experience that doesn’t meet the otherwise absurdly high bar. But once you’re inside the manor? All is forgiven.

The main queue begins in the manor’s entrance lobby and from the first step inside, it’s staggering. Ornate wood panelling. Grand staircases. Chandeliers. Animating portraits that follow you with their eyes.

Each room continues to impress as your progress. There’s storytelling layered into every surface. Bottles, books, weapons, teeth. Medical diagrams. Jump scares in boxes. You can walk the queue without riding and still feel satisfied.

And then come the pre-shows.

The first pre-show sets the tone, with the bonkers brilliant Ygor demonstrating the KUKA ride arm as part of the storytrlling. But it’s the second that blows the doors off. In this chamber, you come face to face with Victoria Frankenstein, Count Dracula, and The Monster himself, brought to life by next-generation animatronics that are simply astonishing. The Monster’s breathing and facial twitches are disturbingly lifelike. Victoria commands the room with elegance, power, and fury. You’d be forgiven for thinking there were humans in costumes here - not mechanical beings.

It’s the best showcase of practical animatronic technology in any Universal attraction to date, signal that the bar has moved, permanently. If this is the standard, we are in for an absolute treat in Bedford.

Once aboard the ride vehicles, it becomes immediately apparent just how far the tech has evolved since Forbidden Journey. The vehicles are more open, less claustrophobic. The movements are more refined, transitions cleaner. It’s so much smoother, yet the sensation of flying through the manor at breakneck speed has never felt so visceral.

There’s the encounter with the Phantom of the Opera, his organ breathing fire as he plays and the heat washing over your face in perfect sync with the music. There’s the electric shock drop into the Gill-Man’s lair. The Wolf Man’s ambush with his moonlight prowling, always just out of reach, adding a thick layer of suspense. The climatic finale of Ygor flooding the chamber with sunlight to prevent Dracula’s last desperate lunge to win.

Monsters Unchained is beyond what makes a ride great. It’s a living, breathing thesis on what dark rides can be when storytelling, show tech, and ambition are given equal footing (with a seemingly bottomless budget, obviously)

It proves that Universal is still at the bleeding edge. Still capable of doing what no one else can. It gives lesser-known characters their due with reverence, creativity, and theatrical brilliance. It’s world-class entertainment. A technological marvel. A storytelling triumph. And without question, my new number one dark ride.


Due to the weather delays, we opted to miss Curse of the Werewolf to guarantee the night ride on Stardust Racers (a sound choice it seems as well). With that in mind, we had enough time to quickly pop into another crown jewel in Dark Universe - the Burning Blade Tavern. It feels as though it’s something of a spiritual cousin to Rutmor’s Tavern in Phantasialand: low capacity, extremely detailed and a spot that’s not doubt to become a firm favourite. The drink options are excellently themed, with the added bonus of the tucked away outdoor terrace. Sadly we didn’t catch the structure on fire as dusk turned to night, but we did manage a glimpse in the day time.


With the final ride on Stardust completed (missing the Celestial Fountain Show as a consequence), that concluded a first-ever visit to the world’s newest theme park.

FINAL THOUGHTS​

Admittedly, we could have got things done at a quicker pace to ensure we’d secured a ride on Curse, seen a show and enjoyed another sit-down meal. But given a return in the not-too-distant future is inevitable, I’m glad we didn’t rush it. The park isn’t going anywhere, afterall.

The major benefit to Epic being so new is that Universal’s wealth of talented masterplanners had the freedom and flexibility to lay the park out in the most cohesive manner possible. Starting from scratch absolutely has its advantages, with Epic designed as a curated portfolio of world-class lands as opposed to a thrill-chasing playground that something like IoA might be perceived as. Each corner of the park comes with its own voice, tone, and atmosphere. And crucially, each one delivers something distinct. There’s a land for everyone. There are coasters and dark rides to suit all tastes. The culinary options are expansive, and unlike the other two Universal parks in Orlando, Celestial Park creates a true purpose space to relax, unwind and soak it all in.

From a guest operations perspective, there’s still room to grow. The long queues, particularly at Donkey Kong and Battle at the Ministry, can bottleneck an otherwise efficient park. And some queues (looking at you, Donkey Kong) fall short of the immersive standard set elsewhere. But these are first-season growing pains, not cracks in the foundation.

As operations tighten and guest flows become more predictable, the park is only going to get better with time. Treelines will grow in. Technical issues will decrease. Event overlays will be added. The park, which still feels like a new build home as opposed to a charming Victorian townhouse, is yet to gain its personality. I’ve no doubt, however, that in the years to come, it absolutely will. That’s the real beauty of Epic. It feels unfinished, not in the literal sense, but in the most exciting way possible. There’s space here to evolve and thrive.



Yet even in its current form, it already houses some of the best attractions Universal has ever built. The storytelling, set pieces, and animatronics on Monsters Unchained are a total world-class triumph. The visual and thrilling coaster adrenaline ballet of Stardust Racers is another sign that Universal has a command of coaster building as much as they do theming. The quiet joy of flying through Berk on a cobbled-together glider shows that Universal is master of putting you as the guest into different experiences.

In the Parisian Wizarding World, you feel like an observer. In Berk, you feel like a welcomed guest. In Dark Universe, you feel like a play toy to the monsters that lie within. In Nintendo World, you feel the undeniable sense of nostalgia. And in Celestial Park, you feel euphoric and inspired. Epic has a tangible ability to give you a sense of feeling and a sense of purpose that its siblings to the North of I-Drive don’t quite deliver. It manages to feel both massive and personal. Epic might be the most emotionally literate park Universal has created, if not, in the world.

TLDR:​

Is Epic Universe really that Epic?

Course it bloody is, and I can't wait to get back.