Review: ‘Disneyland Handcrafted’ on Disney+ Is a Revelatory Look at the Park’s Birth

On January 22, 2026, a long-awaited documentary debuted that fundamentally changed how we see the most iconic theme park on Earth. It’s called “Disneyland Handcrafted,” and it’s available on Disney+ and, in a commendable move, free for everyone on YouTube. Directed by Leslie Iwerks—granddaughter of animation legend Ub Iwerks—this film is not another corporate history. It is an almost  archaeological dig into the sweat, dirt, and sheer audacity required to build something no one had ever seen before- a modern theme park.

The film’s genius is in what it leaves out. No modern executives sitting in leather chairs, telling us a polished, hindsight-heavy version of history. No rewriting history because they KNOW how everything turned out in the end. No faulty memory, no nostalgia coloring the facts. Just… the raw, unvarnished past historical record.

 Iwerks unearthed a treasure trove of 16mm archival footage, originally shot for—but never used in—“Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color” television show. Most of it had never been seen, simply sitting in the Disney vaults for decades. She discovered this wealth of material while making her previous documentary series, «The Imagineering Story,» and believed it deserved its own dedicated film.

For 78 minutes, that’s exactly what we get: pristine, silent footage from 1954 and 1955, painstakingly restored, with some sequences lovingly colorized by the artists at Industrial Light & Magic.

But it’s not silent for long. Instead of a narrator, an incredible layer of foley work by Skywalker Sound takes over. Detailed sound effects are added—the crunch of dirt under boots, the sharp clang of a hammer, the rumble of a distant tractor—to fool your brain into thinking you’re hearing the original audio. The result is profoundly immersive. You’re not being told about the past; you’re dropped into it.

The story is further given life through dozens of archival audio recordings of greats like Harper Goff, Roger Brogie, John Hench, Herbert Ryman and even landscape architect Ruth Shellhorn, who was one of the few women working on the project during the construction phase. These were recorded back in the day and have a real immediacy to them.

 The film opens one year before the July 1955 opening, and the goal seems laughable. We’re not looking at the heart of the city of Anaheim—we’re looking at rural orange groves. Miles and miles of them. “The middle of nowhere,” as people said. The sheer scale of the transformation, seen day-by-day in the film, is mind-boggling.

This is where the “Handcrafted” part of the title earns its keep. You watch hands—calloused, skilled hands—lay the tracks for the Disneyland Railroad. You see them shaping the riverbanks for the Mark Twain by hand. Every shrub, every rock, every bolt was placed by a person whose name we’ll likely never know. This film is their monument.

And let me tell you, watching this old footage is striking in a myriad of ways. I was absolutely gripped by the amazingly… let’s call it « optimistic » approach to workplace safety. This is 1955, after all. You see a giant earthmover tip over, and the driver just hops away like getting nearly crushed is just all in a day’s work. Workers clamber up half-built castles and trestle bridges with nary a safety harness in sight. Hard hats? Forget about it! It’s a sometimes alarming and fascinating window into a different era.  a testament to a time when the drive to create sometimes outpaced formal precautions. The film doesn’t shy away from these moments, or from the fumbles and accidents—it showcases a human process, not a perfect one 

For me, one of the most mesmerizing sequences  follows trucks hauling the newly built railroad cars down the Santa Ana Freeway. As 1955 Southern California slides by, you’re treated to fleeting glimpses of a vanished world—I was bizarrely thrilled to freeze-frame on a passing “U-Tel-Em-Ma Liquor” store, a perfect slice of period sass. And the clothes! Let’s just say if you see me at Disneyland Paris this summer in saddle shoes and a saucy bonnet, you’ll know why. 

Now, is Walt in it? Of course. But he’s not the center. The company still carefully cultivates his image—you won’t see him smoking (though everybody else is!) or even looking too worried. But an outline of the man, the relentless visionary, emerges through the sheer momentum of the project. You feel his presence in the frantic energy of the site.

What “Disneyland Handcrafted” does so beautifully is make the familiar utterly strange and new again. No matter how many times you’ve walked down Main Street, U.S.A., you have never seen Disneyland like this. It’s a bold, modern invention being born in real-time, all hand-carved and hand-painted.

It’s a love letter, but not from a corporation. It’s a love letter from a filmmaker to the craftsmanship itself, and to the fans who appreciate the legacy of those details—many of which still endure in the park today.

So, if you have any interest in history, in how incredible things get built, or if you just want to experience a documentary that trusts you enough to just show you the past without filters… please, seek this out.

“Disneyland Handcrafted” gets the definitive D2DLP stamp of approval. On the patented Beth scale, I’m giving it a solid, heartfelt, sawdust-covered Beth out of 10.

Now go watch it. I’ll be here, trying to design my own line of  « U-Tel-Em-Ma Liquor Store » merch to wear in the parks. IYKYK.