Disneyland à la russe We visited ‘Dream Island,’ the new theme park in Moscow that's been dubbed Europe's biggest family attraction

Dream Island, a new shopping mall and theme park, was opened in Moscow at the end of February. Costing around one and a half billion dollars, the project is considered one of the largest in Europe, while Russian authorities have compared it to America's Disneyland. Many guests of the park wouldn't agree with such high praise: they have discovered broken or non-functioning rides, construction waste, high prices, and questionable architecture. In response to the criticism, the owners of Dream Island said that the project was run by the best architecture bureau in Europe, the prices are lower than in Disneyland, the new rides will soon start working, and the hasty opening is due to the need to pay off creditors. Meduza asked journalist Alexey Yablokov to visit the park, see it through the eyes of a visitor, and write a review with one simple question in mind: can it bring anybody happiness?

I won't hide the truth from you – in southeast Moscow there is a small district called Nagatino. On February 29, 2020, in the so-called Nagatinskaya Poyma (meaning floodplain in Russian), where the Moscow River bends, the enormous Dream Island shopping mall, with an area of 300,000 square meters (more than 74 acres), was opened. It was opened hastily if not urgently – after being constructed for four years, it should have been completed in 2018, then at the end of 2019, but it’s only just finished. Or getting started, to be precise.

President Vladimir Putin and Moscow Mayor Sergey Sobyanin were both present at the opening of the shopping mall. Maybe they were tempted to do some shopping and have some fun. But it is also very likely that it's been a long time since they visited Nagatinskaya Poyma, where just a few years ago pike fish were freely laying eggs and where you could spot a hoopoe bird or a marsh frog.

The Dream Island website says that the president and the mayor were accompanied by disadvantaged children. Also, and this wasn't mentioned in the article, there were a few adults, who were not in the best of positions. The thing is, despite all the efforts, the work was not completed in time for this high-profile visit. Some of the rides were still being installed, several boutiques hadn't yet opened and the landscape park was made up of birch trees plonked in the mud.

That said, following TV reports about this new theme park, people started rushing to Dream Island. And they were disappointed, to put it mildly. Mainly by the expensive tickets, the exhausting lines of up to two hours, the park's design and the lack of dreams altogether.

Dreams for a floodplain

For almost 70 years, the Nagatinskaya Poyma frequently became the subject or embodiment of somebody's dreams. After the war, tailings from the heating plant of the ZIL factory were piled up here in heaps. Smoke was fuming from the factory's power station, cast iron smoldered in the furnaces and trucks came off the conveyor belt, delivering dreams of a new life and the country's industrial growth around Russia.

In the mid-1970s, just before the Moscow Olympic Games, the dream turned to sports. It was decided that the Nagatino sports park would be built on the peninsula with a 200 meter-long central avenue, artificial lakes, soccer fields, family beaches, a lighthouse, and so on. The leaders of the nearby factories, including ZIL, were planning to contribute to building the park because it would primarily be for the workers and their families. Yet the construction didn't go further than the central avenue: all the funding and manpower was redirected towards constructing the main venues for the Olympics. And when the Games were over, there were other things to worry about.

The 1990s in the Nagatinskaya Poyma, like everywhere else, passed in hunger and with dreams of welfare and prosperity. So the eastern part of the peninsula became covered in weeds and the western part turned into a storage facility, crammed with containers and crates.

In the 2000s, the essence of the national dream was embodied in Crystal Island, a project of Norman Foster. The building project envisioned a 450-meter (1,476-foot) -tall skyscraper built on the floodplain: a “city within a city” with luxurious apartments, an international school, parking lots, hotels, and more. After former Moscow Mayor Yuri Luzhkov resigned, the project was shut down.

Now a shopping mall of enormous dimensions has appeared in the Nagatinskaya Poyma as if created by the collective mind of the Russian people, who are dreaming of a new TV set, a holiday in Turkey and good relations with the West. On the mall's website, it is called a “family park for positive emotions.” There really is room for emotions here: the total area is over 100 hectares (247 acres), the building itself is around 30 hectares (74 acres). Inside, there are 120 shops and restaurants, as well as 27 rides. As we have been told, altogether it is the biggest, longest, the most covered in glass, and the most elongated theme park in Europe.

En route to entertainment

Dream Island very suddenly appeared in this industrial area. The Medieval castle, covered in Russian ceramic tiles, strikes the imagination. The effect is enhanced by classical music, heard across the empty parking lot and in the avenue, which runs from the gates to the main entrance — a tall tower with a flag.  

The entertainment starts right at the metal detectors.

“You have a knife in your bag,” a woman in uniform got excited. She even walked out from behind her X-ray machine.

“I don’t have a knife,” I protested. We started looking. There was no knife in the bag. 

“Maybe this?” I said showing her a bottle of eye drops. The woman looked at me with interest.

“Don’t you know what a knife looks like?“ she asked me quietly. 

“And do you? I don’t have a knife,” I replied even quieter. 

We parted as friends. In the atrium, behind the white information stand, a woman was passing time and reading a book. I asked her how to get to the theme park. She happily pulled out a map.

“Imagine that it is turned 90 degrees and keep going in this direction.”

“I’ll try,” I promised.

The way to the rides isn't short and, of course, passes through the shopping center. Four paths were decorated like real streets — with lovingly laid concrete, sidewalks, and curbs. The boutiques on either side of these ‘streets’ looked like local shop fronts. All that was lacking were sounds of the city, but those are just small details. What gets you down is that everything is fake — even the things that could have been real. The trees on the “streets” are made of paper-mache. The grass is artificial. The red telephone booth, decorating “London” street, is made of plastic and what's more, it’s tightly shut — please, don't touch! At least the benches are real.

All four paths bring the visitors to another atrium, similar in size to the Kazansky railway station if it were decorated with a carousel, a fountain, and plaster lions resembling nurses. People are crowded near a white booth by the fountain: this is where the theme park tickets are sold. It's interesting that just within a dozen steps there are machines where you can easily buy the same tickets. But visitors prefer to talk to the live women sitting behind glass panels, creating an orderly line of 15-20 people.

“I have a family with more than three children. A large family!” a young woman distinctively screamed at the glass, waving her ID. 

The cashier looked back at the woman in disbelief.

“And who is this?“ she finally asked, pointing at the man standing next to her. He didn’t know what to answer.

“Husband. He is my husband. We are a family!” the young woman tried to convince the cashier, who soon return relented and handed the large happy family a discounted ticket.

The ticket prices are a sore spot for visitors, who are complaining about them online and here, between the carousel and the fountain. On a weekday, a ticket costs 2,200 rubles ($29) per person over the age of 10, but on the weekends its 2,900 rubles ($38). With this ticket, you will still have to wait in line in front of every ride: for 30 minutes or an hour. If you want to jump the line, there is a Fast Pass, but it is twice as expensive. There is also a family ticket (two adults and two children) — 7,400 rubles ($98) on a weekday and 9,900 rubles ($131) on weekends. Discounted tickets of 1,650 rubles ($21) per person are offered to seniors, children with disabilities, and the above-mentioned large families with three or more children.

When asked whether he thought the tickets are expensive, Moscow mayor Sergei Sobyanin answered that when compared to theme parks around the world, ours has some of the cheapest prices. It seems what he means is that Dream Island is nothing like other theme parks around the world. If the cost of the tickets were the same, then it would definitely be sad, painful and unfair. But this way — it's fair play.

Pleasure zone

Leaving behind a row of turnstiles, I walked past a room with a mysterious signboard “Services” (turns out it was a cloakroom) and finally arrived at the long-anticipated theme park. It was quite dark and desolate. From the central path, several roads stemmed out, leading to cardboard jungles, plywood forests, and plastic rushes. A little girl, walking ahead of me with her mother, sat down on the artificial tiles and started crying.

“Did you come here to cry?” her mother asked sternly and led her into the jungle. 

She should have taken her to the 'Haunted House' — a massive black construction with gargoyles at the entrance. Inside it was pitch black so I immediately tripped, walked into something and frightened some tourists from Krasnodar. After this the tourists hurried out, cursing along the way, making the poor actors dressed as ghosts hide in the corners covered in cobwebs.

All in all, the “Haunted House” reminds one of another island of national dreams — IKEA. There is also a lot of furniture there, many rooms, some moans can be heard — all they would need to do is turn off the lights and smear some weird substances on the walls. Just like in IKEA, you can spend half a day here, especially if you don't cheat and find your way using the flashlight on your phone.

After overcoming this emotional upheaval, I looked into the “Mowgli in the Land of Dinosaurs” theme zone. How and why Mowgli ended up here, none of the employees knew. It was brighter here than in the haunted house and energetic music was played relentlessly through the loudspeakers. Some of the rides weren't working, but various carousels, skillfully hidden behind plaster Aztec pyramids, were. There was some excitement around the “Temple of Fire” — something resembling an open subway car that, together with the howling passengers, was spinning around at a terrifying height. There was also fire there — artificial flames were burning beneath the floor. It was mysterious that after the session finished, new passengers were allowed into the carriage. Where the previous passengers went — I didn't understand. They just disappeared. Maybe they went out through the opposite door. A young man wearing a green neck scarf (maybe that was Mowgli) was walking past the “Temple of Fire” with a small dinosaur on a chain.

“Where are you taking me?” the dinosaur asked in a quiet, worried voice, obediently hobbling along with his leader.

“Don't fret, Kapustin!” the young man answered cheerfully, patting the dinosaur on the back of the neck.

“Friends,” I said. “Tell me, where is the real fun around here?”

“The fun is at the end of the month,” Mowgli answered. The dinosaur nodded in agreement and the friends walked away, rattling their chain.

He was, of course, exaggerating about the end of the month. Currently, on the “HeadHunter” recruitment website, there are several dozen vacancies listed for Dream Island. They are searching for cashiers, electricians and ride operators. For leading a dinosaur on a chain through these hollow, unpleasant rooms, the salary is around 30-40 thousand rubles ($400-530). That won't get you far in Moscow, especially if you are a dinosaur.

I continued my inspection at a faster pace — half the rides were closed anyway. The Dream Theatre wasn't working, therefore I was unable to watch the production of a lifetime. But the queue for the roller coasters, despite it being a weekday, was around 50 people. Judging by the lively faces, nobody was planning to leave — the red shiny cabins, spinning in all directions, were rushing down the tracks. They resembled out of control strollers. What's more — the passengers were handed VR goggles.

“What are they showing?” I asked someone leaving the ride. 

“It’s like you're swimming. Or crawling. It's a little weird at times,” said a kid who looked to be at least 10.

Maybe Dream Island isn't so different from the real world, after all.

The Snow Queen's castle turned out to be a hall for photo shoots and a souvenir shop with silver-colored notepads and T-shirts. But in the Smurfs zone, among the giant mushrooms and daisies, young children were riding storks (a carousel in the shape of storks). Even a park guard's ravenous, savage assault on a pink donut in the Hello Kitty zone couldn’t ruin this peaceful sight.

Speaking of food: it’s available in every one of the park’s themed zones. All the cafes and restaurants try to look different, but their offerings are very much the same: fries, pizza, burgers, donuts. On the other hand, what else are you going to feed the kids?

A little bit about the dream

 As a Muscovite and an active citizen, I can understand a lot of these things. I can imagine with what pain and how many times the concept of this dream was redone. I know that there was nobody to write texts for the website, so the descriptions of the rides were copied from presentation slides, mistakes included. That the lighting in the park is organized in a sloppy way, and that the music wasn't planned either, so visitors start losing their minds minutes after arriving. From 10 themed zones, one is simultaneously attacked by 10 different tunes, which all blend and echo under the 25-meter (82-foot) -tall roof and the largest glass dome in Europe. At the same time, I understand that when the new rides are opened and start working, the park will be a lot more fun. What's more, there are still no animators here, who could entertain the kids, therefore the promised meetings with dinosaurs, the Snow Queen, and Ninja Turtles cannot take place. But I saw with my own eyes at the entrance to the mall a notice: “Ninja Turtles training in Room 8A.” So the work is being done, we just need to be patient.

And finally, truth be told, for many citizens living in the area, this attraction is a new opportunity to brighten up their family's leisure time. They say so themselves. "It's good that we didn't sleep all day and went for a walk" a young lady affectionately told her gloomy companion, leading him from the Ninja Turtles zone towards a lingerie shop. Maybe with time they'll accept the ticket prices and will start gifting them to children and grandchildren as a reward for good behavior. And all will come. The boutiques will open, the 120 empty food stalls will be filled with crowds, and there will be no room left at the parking lot. It's also good that around this monstrosity of a shopping mall they are constructing a landscape park with an embankment, paths, and lamp posts. Everything will soon become green, there will be lawns for yoga, and before you know it the birds and fish will return to the Nagatinskaya Poyma.

And still, since we are on an island of dreams, I have one too. I dream to live until the time when we won't be embarrassed in front of our children. Won't be ashamed by the plaster used instead of stone, the artificial trees, the plastic stain-glass windows, the gloomy faces of the employees, and, most importantly, by the bald and demonstrable shamelessness with which a very big store is passed off as the largest theme park in Europe.

To be perfectly honest, it would also be good to witness the historic moment when Russia's multi-ethnic people rely on something other than shopping centers to lift their spirits. There must be something else out there. Right?