Universal’s Epic Universe Portal Tour Was Missing One Thing: Magic

From real park preview to muted public promo: a firsthand comparison of awe vs. approximation.

By the time April rolled around, I had already seen the Portal.

Not just a Portal — the Portal. The towering, Chronos-crowned monument to Universal’s next era, glowing like the monolith from 2001: Theme Park Odyssey. In March, I’d been lucky enough to catch a team member preview of Epic Universe. Universal firing on all cylinders, daring to dream big, and actually pulling it off.

So naturally, I came to the Portal Tour in April — fully knowing that I was chasing a high I wasn’t going to get again.

I’d been casually (read: obsessively) monitoring the build in downtown Atlanta for weeks, driving past Pemberton Place like it was my own personal construction site. The parking meters bled me dry. I’d even done nighttime reconnaissance missions just to watch the Chronos tower light up like something beamed in from another dimension. That version? Jaw-dropping. Mesmerizing. The kind of thing that makes grown adults whisper, “Wait, is this actually happening?”

And then came the public opening. The real “event.” I showed up in my Epic Universe hat — a badge of honor from the March preview (which the employees were sure to point out, although I denied knowing anything about the parks) — and brought along a few of my SCAD classmates (Jake, Jacob, O’Neal), mostly out of guilt for hoarding the magic to myself and because they were being good sports about seeing it. I was ready to share the dream. Instead, I got a flat noon-day flop.

Gone was the immersive light show. In its place: a large, slightly awkward statue and a looping concept reel projected with poor audio quality on the back. Concept footage. No actors. No new visuals. Just vibes. Dull ones. I felt like I’d dragged three friends to a movie premiere only to realize they were playing the trailer on loop. Now don’t get me wrong — the structure itself is still impressive. The sheer height of it (30ft), the detailing on Chronos, the sense of scale. It’s a marvel of brand-funded sculpture. But after witnessing it alive, lit, breathing, and pulsing with music, seeing it frozen under the midday sun felt... sterile. Static. Almost cynical in its own way.

To my classmates, most of whom hadn’t seen the nighttime build-up or who stayed in the AirBnB during my March preview, it was kind of cool. They took photos. They nodded in approval. But for me, it was the theme park equivalent of cold fries — still technically the same product, but where the thrill had long since vanished. And the video? A total miss. I know Universal has been filming inside the park. There were filming signs up during team member previews in March. I know there’s footage of actors in-costume, on-location, walking through Celestial Park and dueling in Dark Universe. So why were we watching a concept video from 2023 like it was a big reveal? For a campaign about looking toward the future, it all felt a little stuck in the past.

To their credit, Universal did manage to sneak in one delightful curveball — a plastic Coca-Cola x Epic Universe shot glass filled with sparkly, celestial cherry soda, only available at the nearby World of Coca-Cola. Honestly? That was the best part. Edible glitter and novelty drinks still hit when nothing else does.

Look, I get it. The Portal Tour was never supposed to be a full-on immersive experience. It’s a marketing stunt. A traveling billboard dressed up in LED armor. But after what I saw back in March — the feeling of standing in front of something truly next-gen, something that pulsed with life — this daytime activation felt like Universal setting the bar, then casually walking under it.

The crowd was still excited. Kids were taking selfies. Parents were intrigued. But the Portal didn’t hum with energy. It sat. It posed. And then it repeated a low-res video loop while the rest of us tried to pretend the magic hadn’t already left the building. We left a little deflated. Not disappointed in the future of Epic Universe — far from it. That part still feels revolutionary. But the tour, this version of it, felt like a missed opportunity. A reminder that hype only works if you meet it where it stands. And after lighting up the night sky a month earlier, this daytime version felt like an afterthought. Like someone forgot to turn the lights back on. We’ll be back to Epic Universe, obviously. We’re theme park people. We love the lore, the speculation, the land layout arguments. But if Universal wants to truly build anticipation — not just attention — they’ve got to stop treating the public like they haven’t been paying attention.

Because some of us were there when the Portal opened. And once you’ve seen it in full color and sound, everything else just looks like a blueprint.