In 1954, Walt Disney was struggling to imagine tomorrow. Disneyland was set to open the following year and would be divided according to four themes: Fantasyland, Adventureland, Frontierland, and Tomorrowland. While there was plenty of preexisting material for Walt Disney to draw upon to design Fantasyland, Adventureland, and Frontierland, there was nothing upon which to base Tomorrowland. Disney looked to producer and animator Ward Kimball for ideas. His pitch? Outer space. The result was a three-part educational series, Man in Space (1955–57), cohosted by the German aerospace engineer Dr Wernher von Braun.
Von Braun’s background was not what one would expect from someone effectively working in children’s entertainment. His journey from Nazi rocket scientist to American celebrity is a remarkable one. During the war, von Braun, then an SS officer, was an integral part in the Nazi rocket development program. He helped design the V-2 rockets at the army research center in Peenemünde and became the technical director of the Dora labor camp, where an estimated 20,000 people died producing rocket parts.
The extent of the horrific conditions to which he and his fellow Nazis subjected prisoners would only come to light during the Nuremberg trials in 1947. But by then, von Braun was long gone; the United States had recruited him along with other German scientists in Operation Paperclip, a secret government program that brought over some 1,600 scientists from the former Third Reich to help develop American science. Von Braun and his peers would receive protection from the US secret service, who would also shield him from scrutiny for decades.
Von Braun would later claim he only worked for the Nazi regime because it funded his research, helping him develop rockets for his real passion, space exploration. For von Braun, outer space was always the dream — everything else, however abhorrent, was merely a stepping stone to get there.
After emigrating to the United States, von Braun found himself — along with many of the Peenemünde rocketeer team — developing rockets for the US army. But von Braun continued to harbor dreams of reaching space. And it was Walt Disney who, with a touch of the classic Disney magic, would help his dream come true.
In 1949, a Gallup poll asked Americans what they thought the world would look like in the year 2000. Eighty-eight percent of respondents believed there would be a cure for cancer and 63 percent thought trains and planes would be run on atomic power. But only 15 percent thought there would be men on the moon.
Von Braun knew that if he ever wanted to get the funding and political backing to get man into space, he would need public support. He tried his hand at writing science fiction novels, which were underwhelming, before persuading the editor of Collier’s magazine to run the special issue entitled Man Will Conquer Space Soon! (1952–54), which drew the attention of Kimball, an animator who worked for Disney. When von Braun received the call from Disney, he understood the potential of the collaboration and enthusiastically signed up.
The first episode of Man in Space aired on March 9, 1955, on ABC as part of the Disneyland series. It was a stunning success. Over a quarter of the American public watched the first episode and the viewership only grew. The show proved hugely significant in shaping the American’s views about outer space. After the episode aired, it received glowing praise. This article from the Los Angeles Herald-Express captured the general mood:
Walt Disney may be America’s “secret weapon” for the conquest of space! Apparently, and quite by accident, he has discovered the “trigger” that may blast loose his country’s financial resources and place the Stars and Stripes of the United States aboard the first inhabited Earth satellite . . . it is so near that we can practically feel the Earth tremble under the rocket blast of Dr. von Braun’s spaceship. “Man in Space” is believable, and Disney has close to 100,000,000 American believing. Half of the voting population of the USA has probably reached two impressive conclusions; “It CAN be done!” and “Let’s get on with it!”
Von Braun, with the aid of Disney, had found a way to sell the idea of space as the next — and conquerable — American frontier, launching himself to stardom in the process. Almost overnight, the Nazi scientist became an American celebrity; he met both President John F. Kennedy and Vice President Lyndon Johnson and went on to play an integral role in NASA and the Apollo programs, including the moon landing, earning him the title “seer of space.” Disneyland, meanwhile, opened in 1955 and reached over one million visitors within two months. At the heart of Tomorrowland was the ride Rocket to the Moon.
Disney did not capitalize on a preexisting public interest in outer space. Instead, the company helped create interest and support for extraterrestrial ventures. And although public interest in outer space waned following the Moon landing, Disney has continued to advocate for space exploration, maintaining close relationships with NASA and other agencies.
There was nothing new about the close ties between the Walt Disney Company and US government. During World War II, Disney produced several military training films and educational shorts. By 1943, upward of 90 percent of its work was for government agencies, much of it related to the war effort. But creative collaboration with military contractors continued long after the war as Disney became a vocal advocate of Cold War science and accepted a commission from President Dwight D. Eisenhower to produce Our Friend the Atom, a 1957 short film about atomic energy.
Today Disney continues to have links to the US Defense Department. In the live action remake of Lilo & Stitch, for example, Lilo tells her older sister, Nani, “I think you should join the Marines.” While it may appear to be just an innocent joke about young Lilo conflating the Marines with marine biology (her sister’s intended profession), the term “marine” is trademarked. Disney had to acquire permission, and potentially pay, to use this term.
Likewise in Elio, a film about a boy who travels to outer space that bombed at the box office in June, Aunt Olga is an orbital analyst in the Air Force, another trademarked term. The Department of Defense was directly involved in the film’s production, with the Air Force — and later the Space Force — providing the creative team with tours of numerous military bases.
Although Elio marked the first significant collaboration between the Space Force and Disney, it is certainly not the first time a space agency has provided expertise during the production of a Pixar-animated feature film. The team behind the Toy Story spin-off Lightyear received a tour at NASA, to the delight of the film’s producer, Galyn Susman, who had majored in physics and hoped to become an astronaut. Astronaut Thomas H. Marshburn even took a photo of the animation crew with him to the International Space Station.
The Space Force’s PR offensive has more often made it the object of ridicule rather than admiration. Donald Trump was roundly mocked in his first term when he announced plans to found the agency and shows like Netflix’s Space Force have made extraplanetary defense the butt of jokes. These criticisms have clearly hit a soft spot.
Just last summer, Chief Master Sergeant of the Space Force John F. Bentivegna pitched the importance of the Space Force Guardians’ role in national security to numerous Hollywood executives. In an interview with the space policy newsletter Polaris, Bentivegna discussed the importance of spreading awareness of the Space Force and its role in national security, especially to the public. “There are still occasions where I show my military ID card and people say, ‘Space Force? That’s real?’” he said. Bentivegna even spoke at a screening of Elio at the Peterson Space Force Base, remarking that it was “inspiring” to see the film highlight the role of Guardians and other service members and adding that he hopes “it inspires future generations to learn more about us.”
Disney executives have predictably blamed the audience for Elio’s poor box office performance. It is their unwillingness to turn up for original features that has forced the company to rely on sequels and live-action remakes. But the success of Flow (2024) and Sony’s KPop Demon Hunters (2025) shows that the problem is not original animated storytelling but the subject matter. Since the turn of the millennia, Disney has insisted on producing sci-fi narratives and animated outer space features, despite the vast majority struggling or failing commercially. It’s possible that the public just isn’t into space, a fact confirmed by the unenthusiastic reaction to the pop star Katy Perry’s Jeff Bezos–funded trip to space.
Elio did not flop because it was an original film, but because it was a distinctly unoriginal film — yet another space adventure. Still, powerful men who dream of the stars may continue to look for new publicity stunts. But without the charisma of von Braun and the dramatic politics of the Cold War, Disney has found it hard to sell space to a generation that likes its films with both feet planted firmly on the ground.
Great Job Rowena Squires & the Team @ Jacobin Source link for sharing this story.
