Tower of Terror (1997), Disney’s first attempt to wring a movie out of a theme-park attraction.

The Elevator Pitch (pun intended)

Imagine being in a meeting at Disney HQ in the ‘90s. Someone says: “What if we made a movie based on our Tower of Terror ride?” Another exec, probably three margaritas deep, replies: “Yeah, and let’s not make it scary. Let’s make it a sentimental tale of sibling jealousy, curses, and Steve Guttenberg’s career in freefall.” Everyone claps. Someone greenlights it.

What we got is a film that somehow manages to make ghosts, curses, and cursed elevators about as frightening as a trip to the DMV.

Steve Guttenberg: The Man, The Myth, The Inquisitor

Guttenberg plays Buzzy Crocker, a disgraced journalist writing for a tabloid called The National Inquisitor. He’s got the charisma of lukewarm oatmeal and the fashion sense of someone who just discovered clearance racks at JCPenney. The script wants us to believe he’s a hard-nosed, cynical reporter, but Guttenberg radiates “dad trying to fix a lawnmower” energy. When he discovers that ghosts might be real, his reaction is less “existential terror” and more “mild curiosity, like he just found a coupon for Quiznos.”

Kirsten Dunst: Child Labor in Action

Poor Kirsten Dunst, roped in to play Buzzy’s plucky niece Anna. She’s basically here to supply the “Disney-approved” demographic crossover: kids will like her, parents will tolerate her, and Guttenberg needed someone to look competent next to. Dunst does fine, but every time she’s on screen, you can’t help but think: “This kid will one day win awards for Melancholia. Right now, she’s being menaced by Melora Hardin in a sparkly ghost dress.”

The Ghosts: Depression-Era Party Animals

Our spectral cast includes:

• Carolyn, a glamorous singer ghost who doubles as “Claire Poulet,” a fake actress Guttenberg hires (because apparently ghosts can moonlight in SAG-AFTRA).

• Gilbert, her bland boyfriend.

• Sally Shine, a Shirley Temple knockoff whose only crime was being too adorable.

• Emeline, the nanny accused of being a witch but really just overworked.

• Dewey the bellhop, doomed to eternal adolescence with a luggage cart.

They’re cursed to ride the elevator forever, which sounds scary until you realize that’s basically the experience of staying at a Holiday Inn with broken elevators.

The Villain: Abigail, the Saltiest Sister in Hollywood

The “big twist” is that Abigail, Sally Shine’s forgotten older sister, was jealous of her sibling’s fame and cursed the elevator out of spite. Yes, the entire horror hinges on the idea that being ignored on your birthday gives you magical powers to damn five people to purgatory. I’ve seen toddlers throw tantrums in Target that were scarier.

Old Abigail (played with gusto by Amzie Strickland) spends most of the movie looking like she wandered off from a different film—maybe Matlock: The Witching Hour. When her younger ghost self shows up at the end for tearful reconciliation, it’s supposed to be moving, but it feels more like a Hallmark commercial for sibling therapy.

The Horror (or Lack Thereof)

Let’s be clear: this film aired on The Wonderful World of Disney. The scariest thing here is the wallpaper. Oh, and maybe the CGI lightning, which looks like someone added it in Microsoft Paint. Ghosts appear, but instead of screams, you get whimsical harp music. When they try to scare Guttenberg and Dunst, it looks like an extended Halloween commercial for Party City.

By the climax, when two elevators plunge while Abigail and Sally hug it out in a golden sparkle explosion, you don’t feel tension. You feel like the movie just threw confetti in your face and whispered, “Please clap.”

Production Values: Ride or Die

To Disney’s credit, they filmed parts of this at the actual Tower of Terror ride in Florida. Which means the set design is, ironically, better than the script. The decrepit hotel looks atmospheric, the cobwebs are convincing, and the elevator shafts are genuinely cool. But instead of leaning into Gothic horror, the movie treats it like window dressing for a very special episode of Scooby-Doo where Fred is played by Steve Guttenberg and Velma is replaced by a precocious niece.

The Message: Forgive and Forget (and Sparkle)

In the end, Abigail is forgiven because she was just a sad, lonely girl ignored on her birthday. The curse lifts, the ghosts ascend, and Guttenberg gets his redemption arc. It’s all very sweet, very Disney, and very teeth-rotting. But if you showed this to H. P. Lovecraft, he’d claw his way out of the grave just to sue for emotional damages.

Dark Humor Takeaways

• If you’re going to curse someone, maybe don’t do it in an elevator. Nobody wants to spend eternity with the smell of burnt wiring and old carpet.

• Guttenberg’s character writes for The National Inquisitor. Ironically, the fake news he wrote there was still more believable than this movie’s plot.

• Disney billed this as their first movie based on a theme-park attraction. Watching it now, it feels less like history and more like a warning label: May cause cinematic indigestion. Use Pirates of the Caribbean instead.

Final Verdict

Tower of Terror is not scary, not funny, not thrilling—it’s just… there. A movie that feels like it was cobbled together to justify a ride’s existence and give Steve Guttenberg something to do in the late ‘90s. The ghosts deserved better. Kirsten Dunst deserved better. Even the elevator deserved better.

But hey, at least it’s short. Ninety minutes of Disneyfied supernatural fluff that proves the scariest thing of all is corporate synergy.