Sharp Aquos Theater

There’s an entire generation of Universal guest that assumes Soundstage 18 was never included in the price of admission. Since 2007, Blue Man Group entertained nightly audiences at the end of the strange street between the emporium and Stage B42. It’s out of the way, seen mostly from the Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit queue and HHN switchbacks. Until the Blue Men moved out, it was an insider’s delight, the vaunted “secret” entrance to the Studios.

Now, it’s just a vestigial limb leftover from opening day.

Nickelodeon was an uncontested draw for kids across the ‘90s. The short-lived studio tour, synonymous the Universal name, loaded out front and added to the foot traffic. The working studio structure necessitated the awkward layout, but also made it part of the vicarious thrill.

As the Studios grew, turning the space into an extra-ticketed entertainment venue made sense.

As the resort grows, Soundstage 19 becomes more and more of a misshapen puzzle piece.

The easiest replacement is another extra-ticketed show. Finding an act with that kind of staying power and appeal - it played the same for all ages and languages - is a tall order, but not impossible. It rounds out CityWalk’s offerings nicely. Disney will eventually have another Cirque du Soleil show. Universal might want to keep that market in check.

A trickier proposition is working the space back into the park proper. The visual separation does it no favors, even with a big, flashing arrow at the intersection of Minion Way and Plaza of the Stars. However, if there’s any interest in reviving the behind-the-scenes theme of Production Central, there’s no better place to put a new special effects show or something like it. Shrek 4-D, long on suspected life-support, would make more sense as a front-and-center IP tie-in. Soundstage 19 is ready built for a live production anyhow. That is, unless the building itself gets gutted.

The nuclear option has never been rumored so much as occasionally hoped for - a complete overhaul of Universal Studios Florida’s entrance.

All that stands between 19’s small courtyard and the Studio gates are the coaster and the gift shop. Based on the useful life of Dueling Dragons and Hulk 1.0, Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit would close in 2027, just two years after the guesstimated opening of Epic Universe. The emporium has survived, virtually unchanged, since 1990. As the park’s focus drifts further from making movies to living them, The Front Lot dates by the day. In a post-Gringotts landscape, only a two-minute walk from Port of Entry, a remodel feels a lot more like a when than an if.

In that case, Soundstage 19 could be the southernmost bound of Universal Studios Florida and the corner anchor of a new-and-improved entrance.

Toon Lagoon Amphitheater

In many and various ways, Islands of Adventure kickstarted the modern age of theme park design. As a reward, it continues to age like fine wine. The bone-deep overhauls staring down its sister park aren’t needed here and won’t be for a long time, if ever. That makes the guessing game easier; expansion at Islands is mostly plug-and-play. It’s easier still to notice the long-existing vacancies.

The Toon Lagoon Amphitheater hides in plain sight. Thousands of visitors stroll by it daily. Hundreds win stuffed Minions just across the sidewalk. But it’s been quiet for so long, many of those visitors might not even notice what they’re passing.

The arena opened with the park in 1999, featuring a musical showcase of everybody’s favorite big-headed comic strip characters. But as audiences dwindled, distracted by the park’s higher-tech line-up, the bookings turned seasonal. A number of extreme sports demonstrations came and went. The last, Mat Hoffman’s Aggro Circus, played the busy season of 2010. In the years since, the amphitheater hosted special events like cheerleading competitions and celebrity panels for A Celebration of Harry Potter, as well as focus-testing for upcoming attractions.

Unlike the other open-air performance spaces on property, the Toon Lagoon amphitheater hasn’t reopened as a mask-free rest area. Some of the lampposts out front still hold banners from the Pandemonium Cartoon Circus, a song-and-dance show last sung and danced 20 years ago.

It’s not so much grist for the rumor mill as reason enough to watch the clock. The odds-on favorite replacement is a clone of Hollywood’s Secret Life of Pets dark ride. But that’s only one possibility.

Toon Lagoon as a whole is getting long in the tooth. The Sunday Funnies have been hunted to near-extinction. Replacing the amphitheater, as wide-open a plot as Islands has these days, could be the first move in a broader makeover of the land, whatever the eventual theme.

A less likely possibility is that Marvel Super Hero Island annexes it instead, rerouting the eventual entrance toward Spider-Man’s rarely used extended queue. The Marvel contracts may be stickier than ever for new additions, but the ever-more-rabid fandom around the movies can’t be lost on the powers that be.

Consider, though, Skull Island: Reign of Kong. Without touching anything around it, the amphitheater could become its own mini-island, no bigger than a single attraction and food stand. Between Harry Potter-Lost Continent and Skull Island-Jurassic Park, the split-difference model may be the way the park grows going forward.

Lost Continent

The more recently abandoned amphitheater at Islands is the more tantalizing opportunity.

Ever since Harry Potter moved in, the days of the remaining Lost Continent have been numbered. It was the only original land on opening day and the only one subdivided within itself, though a case could be made for Toon Lagoon and the Sweethaven cul-de-sac. Because its inspirations were more abstract - cherry-picked myths and legends - the attractions carried few preconceived notions and delivered the strangest experiences in the park.

In 2018, The Eighth Voyage of Sinbad took its final bow. Reviews were mixed on the show from the first performance, but it was still one of the last meat-and-potatoes stunt spectaculars built in Orlando. The sudden closure, announced just a month ahead of time, signaled some kind of plan. But nothing happened. No permits were filed. Then the world paused.

As the world slowly resumes, Lost Continent is looking threadbare. The Sinbad amphitheater is open to sit, take a load off, and stare that oddly elaborate scenery across the way. Poseidon’s Fury, still the gold-medal weirdest thing in Islands of Adventure, was temporarily closed in the same shutdown as Barney. The ultimate fate of the purple dinosaur is not lost on theme park fans or reporters. All that’s left for the time being is Mythos and the talking fountain.

The reason Sinbad isn’t listed as a possible expansion separate from Lost Continent, as Barney is from KidZone, comes down to taste and timing. It’s a massive outdoor theater for a massive outdoor stunt show, bigger than Wild Wild Wild West ever was. That style has gone the way of the Dodo, with souped-up hybrids like The Bourne Stuntacular taking the baton. As it stands, that’s about all that could readily replace the show as-is. Couple that with a stricter sense of thematic integrity than at the Studios and Lost Continent looks a lot more like an all-or-nothing deal.

If there’s a brand-new island on the horizon, then Lost Continent is just about set for the dynamite. Nintendo, DreamWorks, Illumination, some wildcard franchise so far unsuspected. Whatever this park’s “Millennium Project” may be, if it’s anything bigger than a single attraction, expect it here.