‍Disney’s FastPass: A Complicated History is the title of the most popular video on the YouTube channel Defunctland, with 24 million views to date. Created by Kevin Perjurer, the channel explores the hidden stories behind abandoned theme parks, failed attractions, and some of the most iconic figures in American entertainment culture — from Walt Disney to the Muppets to Bear in the Big Blue House — uncovering their inner workings to reconstruct an alternative history of the spectacle business. These videos are true rabbit holes into forgotten narratives, aimed at revealing everything we don’t usually see — the decay and the failures — behind the glittering façade of the American Dream. But how can something as ultra-specific as the story of a pass designed to skip ride lines attract so many people? What does the fascination with the mysteries behind the blissful entertainment industry we grew up with reveal about us?

Lily Bloom (b. 1993, London) has always been drawn to the darker side of entertainment icons. The corruptible surfaces of theme parks, cartoons, and celebrities form the living material of Bloom’s thought. “Death is ever present in Disney cartoons; the film Bambi opens with the death of his mother,” reads the text written by Maggie Dunlap for The Treasure Inside Your Chest, Bloom’s solo show at Shipton Gallery in London in the fall of 2024.

The waiting lines of theme parks are the subject of her exhibition, A Nearby Tower, at Season 4, Episode 6, whose exhibition text is written — fittingly — by Kevin Perjurer himself. Lily Bloom, who began her career experimenting with self-portraiture in the vein of Cindy Sherman before delving into horror aesthetics in later projects, now reflects on the subtle unease surrounding the act of waiting for something one eagerly anticipates. The gallery entrance is transformed into a room with switchback barriers, forcing visitors to queue before encountering a series of lenticular prints.

At PortAventura World in Tarragona — home to Red Force, the third-tallest roller coaster in the world — the endless lines for attractions are eased by games developed by the park itself, which visitors can download onto their phones and play while the battle is streamed on large public screens — waiting thus becomes an integral part of the amusement park experience. The mechanisms a queue activates are mysterious, almost instinctive: they reshape our relationship with what awaits at their end. Lily Bloom senses what is unsettling about this, but also what is hopeful: the transformation of “stillness” into something unexpected.

Here, we talked to Lily about the inspirations behind A Nearby Tower, her relationship with Defunctland’s work, boredom, and switchback queues. 

‍Dear Lily, thank you so much for accepting this interview. First question I want to ask you: Kevin Perjurer – absolute icon – wrote the exhibition text. I cheered so much when I read his name: I think his channel is a one-of-a-kind destination for anyone fascinated by the perks of theme parks, stories about weird rides, the shiny/decadent world of entertainment, and how the infrastructure of spectacle can interfere with our world and the landscape we inhabit. And the real world. Can you talk us through the connection between your practice and Kevin’s? 

Kevin’s work connects people to fantasy with an emphasis on revealing the unknown. There are layers to theme parks the average visitor won't see, or care to see, but there are many people who can’t leave the magic at the parks; they need more. I was obsessed with Magic’s Biggest Secrets as a child, a show where a masked magician reveals how illusions work. This hunger for revelation runs through A Nearby Tower and every video Kevin posts.

The prints you present in the exhibition combine three concepts: a rabbit-like Disney adult, liminal spaces, and a certain 90s album cover aesthetic: I love them. Can you tell me more about this character and the read thread connecting the three prints? 

I’ve often felt like there’s a walkabout character stuck in my heart, perpetually waiting for a Meet & Greet with my head. The three prints are a confrontation, an answer, an apology, everything you would kill to say to yourself and truly hear.

Can you talk us through the titles of the three prints? 

They’re lines from poems I’ve written and the first line of What I Did For Love from A Chorus Line. 

‍In the exhibition, you explore the idea of “eternal wait” through the symbol of the queue. It looks like the concept is investigated both as a Sisyphian theme – what would we do if we knew that waiting constituted our whole life? – and a creative moment born out of boredom – like Kevin describes it in his text.  Which side of the concept of “waiting” was more interesting for you when crafting this new project? 

There’s a real freedom in seeing life as one long switchback queue dotted with hope as entertainment. We can’t see the end, but it’s endlessly romantic to me how we wish, pray, and repent to make the wait bearable. Finding purpose in the waiting is what interests me.

Do you feel like the idea of boredom – closely connected to the concept of waiting “in line” for something – has changed in recent years? Do we still get bored? 

Disney invented the switchback queue in 1964 to make lines appear shorter and allow guests to interact as they waited. Since then, queues have become almost as famous as the rides themselves, with elaborate preshows and extreme theming. If boredom has changed, at least on a theme park level, it's been a real blessing. There is never a need to be bored in my world. 

In the gallery, the visitor is invited to enter the space as if entering the queue of a park ride. This immediately creates a certain distance with the works, but also great expectations – and a feeling of temporality. Can you tell us more about the exhibition space and how you worked to craft the physical visitor experience? 

Both queuing and lenticulars have an inherent anticipation and movement. Lenticulars beg you to move so their magic can be revealed. We know what to do when confronted by a queue without having to think. I used these truths to my advantage, inviting the visitor to move through the queue while the lenticulars await their arrival.

‍Were you inspired by other kinds of media for this exhibition, apart from Kevin’s documentaries? 

The London Museum Docklands has an immersive replica of a Victorian street. I visit it often to keep my need for theme park fantasy satiated.

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