The real fantasyland

IT’S a rare person who can look genuinely suave in maroon leisure slacks and Mickey Mouse ears, but if anyone can pull it off, it is Charles Phoenix.

The Los Angeles aficionado-historian-entertainer best known for his vintage slide shows is also quite the genteel tour guide, striding the streets in a pair of pink bucks with a pack of urban adventurers in tow for his “Disneyland” tour of downtown L.A.

On Sunday, Phoenix was again testing the theory he devised in 2004: That downtown bears a striking resemblance to Walt Disney’s Magic Kingdom. And you thought Chinatown was good only for paper lanterns and moo shu pork. Tag along with Phoenix, and you’ll see it is actually “Adventureland” -- one of dozens of destinations Phoenix has imaginatively reframed.

“I am not a Disneyland freak,” Phoenix, 43, explained via bullhorn, officially kicking off his six-hour tour for the 50 who’d signed up. It was noon, and they were standing outside Union Station, where they would soon board the “monorail,” er, Metro Gold Line, bound for the first of many themed environments.

“Keep your arms and legs inside at all times,” Phoenix deadpanned as the doors on the fully enclosed car slid shut.

Among those sitting in the bus were Christine Davis, 47, and Brian Donnelly, 49, from Burbank. Like many on the tour, the two are Phoenix fans. Two years ago, they saw his Christmas slide show featuring found slides from the ‘50s and ‘60s. Now they never miss a performance.

“The way he presents it, with his personality and sense of humor, you never wanted it to end,” Davis said. “It’s the way he zeroes in on details.”

This Saturday and Sunday, as a companion to his downtown tour, Phoenix is also presenting his “Retro Disneyland Slide Show” at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood. Both experiences offer audiences the opportunity to see Disneyland through Phoenix’s eyes -- with a childlike whimsy and appreciation for oddball detail but without any misty-eyed nostalgia.

Indeed, on the vintage school bus the group had boarded in “Adventureland,” Phoenix pointed out details few had even registered.

“I don’t want this to go unnoticed,” he said, running a hand along the metal interior. “This pleasant shade of mint-sagey green.” Later, he read the bus rules: “Observe classroom conduct ... do not fight, push or shove.”

Laughter was more the order of the day as Phoenix veered off topic to point out the ridiculous and to offer up theme park connections, however tenuous. Wandering Chinatown’s central plaza, Phoenix said that the uppermost pagoda of the Hop Louie restaurant seats “eight heavyset people.”

On packed-to-the-gills Olvera Street, he encouraged the group to stay close together because “it’s crowded. Just like Disneyland.”

At age 16, Jackson Boothe was the youngest on the tour by about two decades. Accompanied by his grandmother, Sandy Kistler, and his mom, Jamie, he was pretty much forced to go, but “I’m glad they made me,” the spiky-haired Irvine teen said. “The way he enjoys it draws you into it. It’s easier for you to enjoy it too.”

Jamie Boothe, 43, had an entirely different reason for coming: The Irvine mom wanted to see Phoenix’s take on downtown because “Orange County is so sanitized,” she said. “Everything looks the same.”

IT would be difficult to find a part of L.A. that is less “sanitized” than the inner city, where the sidewalks teem with residents who’ll never be able to afford the high-priced lofts going up around them. A stark reminder of this was driving through the skid row-adjacent Toy District and crossing Main Street on the way toward “Frontierland” and an early afternoon lunch at Clifton’s Cafeteria.

Open since 1935, Clifton’s is one of the largest restaurants in L.A. -- and one of its most unusual, with a faux Yosemite motif that comes to life via flowing streams, forest-dweller dioramas, fake logs and back-lit nature photos. Guiding us down the long mirrored hallway toward the self-serve cafeteria, Phoenix greeted a man stacking trays by name. “Ignacio!” he said, shaking his hand.

Unlike many tours, guided by hosts who draw a line between the Us on the bus and the Them outside the window, Phoenix doesn’t take an outsider stance. The stops on his tour are places he frequents, and the affection he feels for them is clear from the esoteric and informational nooks and crannies he’s discovered.

Bob Baker, the 82-year-old puppet master behind the Bob Baker Marionette Theater, has lived in the same house his entire life, Phoenix marveled as the bus pulled up to “Fantasyland,” where the group was treated to a private performance in the ornate red theater followed by cake and ice cream in the children’s party room.

“I’ve driven right by this and I’ve never even noticed it,” Angela Brunson, a 34-year-old attorney, said of the theater.

Is there an Angeleno who hasn’t said the exact same thing about some aspect of the city?

Anyone who’s lived in L.A. for any length of time understands its hidden charm as a garden of earthly but unexplored delights. The city’s urban sprawl is a disguise; the gems are everywhere if you just bother to park the car and take a look. Phoenix is one of the rare residents who’s done exactly that.

“Want to hear the neighborhood gossip?” Phoenix said, having corralled the group together on Echo Park’s Carroll Avenue under a sign that reads “Highest Concentration of Victorian Era Residences.” He pointed to the two “Haunted Mansions” -- the only houses on the block with exteriors so shabby they seemed to beg for the wrecking ball. The owners of the two houses, he said, are best friends and universally despised by all the other homeowners on the street, whose three-story, multimillion-dollar homes are manicured to perfection.

The yellow house on the corner? It was once owned by the city’s most eligible bachelor, who was still single and a centenarian when he died just a few years ago.

At the far end of the street, Phoenix pointed to his favorite house in the city: A triple decker with eight colors of paint, as varied as avocado and rust. If only he had the $2.195 million to buy the place, which the home’s 70-year-old owner put on the market because he can no longer navigate the stairs.

The owner’s parents had paid $3,000 for the house when they bought it in 1942. Even Phoenix hadn’t known that, until the owner unexpectedly invited everyone on the tour inside to roam the first floor.

The tour add-on set Phoenix’s well-choreographed, fast-paced itinerary back five minutes, but, as the bus raced down Temple Street -- “Remember the movie ‘Speed’?” Phoenix quipped -- he assured us nothing would be left out.

They still had the “Sunken Garden” outside the L.A. Courthouse, the Walt Disney Concert Hall and the rest of “Tomorrowland” to visit. Stepping up to Gehry’s “building in a blender,” Phoenix asked that the group refrain from touching the titanium panels, lest they leave fingerprints or dents.

Walking past Patina, he said, “There are no Mickey Mouse pancakes available, and they don’t think it’s a funny joke either.”

His mouse ears leading the way, Phoenix walked the group up, around, down, over and through the stairways and paths ringing the concert hall. He then shuttled everyone back on the bus, where they experienced their last bit of downtown Disneyland: Autopia -- on the 101.

*

Charles Phoenix

What: “Disneyland” tour of downtown L.A.

Where: Union Station, 800 N. Alameda St., L.A.

When: noon to 6 p.m. April 2, 9 and 23

Price: $65 (includes snacks, souvenirs, fares and fees)

Info: (866) 754-3374, www.charlesphoenix.com

Also

What: Retro Disneyland slide show

Where: Egyptian Theatre, 6712 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood

When: 8 p.m. Saturday and 1 p.m. Sunday

Price: $25