If any one of us had to cook up a dream vacation in our heads, dropping a couple mortgage payments on an awkward, forced, extended cosplay Star Wars fantasy experience might not rank near the top of the list.

Or even at the bottom of the list.

It probably wouldn't rank at all.

But Disney went ahead and built one anyway, and the early reviews for this weird attraction, like this one at Polygon, are mostly positive.

Disney's new Star Wars hotel experience, called Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser, is a spectacle that's almost overpowering in motion. The media giant has spent nearly seven years developing the immersive Star Wars experience, investing millions of dollars into a new facility, novel technologies, and intensive training for its staff.

Yet still, the whole thing sounds... well, kinda really unpleasant.

Participants in this two-day-long attraction get to run around the fictional Halcyon space cruiser, interact with actors playing Star Wars characters, eat Star Wars-themed meals and drink Star Wars-themed cocktails, and participate in various missions, side-games and other tailored events.

The reviewer describes the experience as one with "moments of profoundly intimate immersive theater," with "marvelous theater, and an authentic Star Wars experience." But "those narrative triumphs make the facility's flaws stand out all the more":

It's far from perfect. I found that the facility itself feels tiny, at times verging on claustrophobic. The price point — roughly $5,000 for a family of four for a two-night stay — puts it well out of reach for many American households....The Halcyon's interior scale just doesn't match up to the grand ship shown in marketing materials. I expected the atrium to be taller, the banquet hall to be wider. The cantina — home to the ship's bar and its singular holographic Sabaac table — is at most half the size of Oga's Cantina in Galaxy's Edge. Liminal spaces, like hallways and stairwells, feel particularly sterile, like wandering around a suburban junior high school built in the mid-1970s. The staterooms are also entirely too small, falling somewhere in between the narrow cabins of a Disney cruise ship and a basic hotel room in a Disney World resort hotel.

Well, if you're going to drop five grand on "intimate immersive theater," you might as well do it in a room that's "entirely too small," amiright?

I mean, seriously, instead of the "generic sci-fi spaceship" theme, they could have actually given people the literal trash compactor from Episode IV and it would have been 1000 times better.

Better yet, they could hire someone who loves the lore and charge $10,000 for an experience where you get to serve on a Star Destroyer as a secret Sith apprentice being trained by Vader, or in a Jedi Temple as a Padawan who must help stop the rising Sith threat. People would line up for miles.

Instead, they are going all in on the train wreck of Episodes 7-9 and doubling down for more of the same Canto Bight horror show.

The New York Times, meanwhile, describes a hotel that's just trying really, really too hard:

"Should you desire a beverage from your home world, please ask," the drink menus inside the ship's Sublight Lounge read. In-room hair dryers are labeled "thermal blowers." Place settings at dinner include giant pairs of tweezers called "galactic grabbers." Press a button in your cabin and a logistics droid, D3-O9, appears on a video screen to have a conversation, with the dialogue changing depending on your responses.

"Galactic grabbers?" Why would there be anything in the Star Wars universe named a "galactic grabber?" And did we really need to add "thermal blower" to the Star Wars canon?

Are we supposed to believe that a civilization that figured out hyperspace travel wouldn't be able to figure out a better name for a hair dryer than "thermal blower"?

This is the problem with Disney's approach to Star Wars: It has taken a beloved franchise known for its artistic integrity and its relative sincerity and turned it into just another stupid intellectual property marketing niche.

Instead of a grand narrative of good vs. evil, where one learns the mysteries of the Force and perhaps succumbs to the power of the Dark Side, you get the weirdly off-key Disneyfied theme ride.

That's not to say that Star Wars wasn't commercialized before—just that it wasn't the kind of marketing in which you might pay literally thousands of dollars to stay in a cramped hotel room and dry your hair with a "thermal blower" while ordering "beverages from your home world," and without any of the classic characters or design motifs to boot!!

The old movies will always reign supreme. But it's time to admit that Disney has officially ruined Star Wars and there's nothing we can do about it.