Inside Disney’s secretive £24,000-a-year Club 33

A high-profile court case over the expulsion of two former members highlights just how much Disney’s members’ club is shrouded in mystery

When you hear the words “exclusive club”, you might think Soho House, Annabel’s or the Garrick. But, bizarrely, one of the most sought-after members’ institutions – with a years-long waiting list, strict code of secrecy and celebrity fans such as Tom Hanks – comes courtesy of the behemoth studio that brought us Mickey Mouse: Disney’s Club 33.
Tucked away inside several of its theme parks, past the rides with their snaking queues of exhausted families, you’ll find wood-panelled private dining lounges courtesy of the elite Club 33 – membership of which reportedly sets you back around £24,000 a year. 
But all is not well in this high-roller section of the magic kingdom. Two former members, Scott and Diana Anderson, have just taken Disney to court after the all-powerful company kicked them out of the club; security had allegedly discovered Scott drunk and insensible on a bench in the park – an allegation he denied.  
Walt Disney was inspired by the VIP lounges he saw at the 1964-65 New York World’s Fair. Why not have such a space at his Disneyland Park in Anaheim, California? Up to that point he had just hosted VIP visitors and corporate sponsors at the park’s Red Wagon Inn restaurant. 
He hired production designer Dorothea Redmond, who worked on movies such as Gone with the Wind and Rear Window, and Hollywood set director Emile Kuri, the two-time Oscar winner whose projects included Mary Poppins and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, to bring his vision to life.
In June 1967, six months after its founder’s death, Club 33 finally opened. Poignantly, it’s right next door to Walt’s former apartment.
Debate still rages over its etymology. Some believe it’s simply the original address of the club entrance: 33 Royal Street, in New Orleans Square, beside the Blue Bayou Restaurant and above the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Others say there were initially just 33 members allowed in the club, or that places went to the original 33 investors in Disneyland. Level 33 is also the highest level that a Freemason (Walt was one) can reach.
What we do know is that it was an unusual institution right from the start. For one thing, it was the only place in the wholesome Disneyland Park where you could drink alcohol. A more prosaic reason for that name could simply be that the club needed a distinct address in order to get its liquor licence.
Walt was obsessive about providing the ultimate visitor experience, and the club is no different. When his wife Lillian alerted him to a rare 19th-century French lift while they were on a shopping excursion in France, he immediately tried to purchase it – and when the hotel refused to sell, he sent engineers and artists to study and then replicate it at Club 33.
You ascend either in that elevator or via a blue iron staircase to the fine dining rooms, Le Grand Salon and Le Salon Nouveau. They are decorated with baroque wallpaper and Victorian curios that Walt collected from antique shops – including mounted butterflies – plus featured items such as a harpsichord, on the lid of which Disney artists painted 19th-century New Orleans Harbour.
Further signs that this is a mecca for Disney superfans include props like the marble-topped walnut table from Mary Poppins, and a functional phone booth from 1967’s The Happiest Millionaire. A creepy-looking vulture, perched on a grandfather clock in the lobby, is a remnant of a then-cutting-edge audio-animatronic system that Walt wanted installed. The idea was that hidden microphones would pick up visitors’ conversations, and an operator would then reply in the voice of the animal. That vulture, named Alfred, is now the club’s mascot.
Visitors come here more for the bragging rights than the food, but the latter is meant to be excellent. The £76 five-course prix-fixe menu at Le Grand Salon apparently features dishes including steak tartare and diver scallops. 
That sophistication is somewhat cheapened by the adjoining gift shop, which sells souvenir shot glasses and “challenge coins”. If a fellow member challenges you, you must produce a coin from your pocket or you owe them a drink.
None of this is included in the rumoured cost of “initiation” to the club, which is around £30,000, while annual dues can reportedly put you back around £24,000, depending on which tier you choose. Perks include VIP passes allowing you to skip the line, park tickets for guests, private previews of new attractions, and behind-the-scenes tours.
Anyone can apply for membership, but you have to wait – often years – to be invited to join. Rumoured celebrity members include Tom Hanks, Elton John, Tiger Woods, Playboy Playmate Holly Madison and Chris Hardwick, founder of the Nerdist Podcast Network. Michael Jackson was also apparently once a member.
There are now similarly luxe club lounges at Disneylands in Tokyo and Shanghai, and American platinum members can also access the 1901 Lounge at the Carthay Circle Restaurant at Disney California Adventure.
But details are scarce, because this institution operates by Fight Club rules: You do not talk about Club 33. No member or visitor we approached was willing to speak, nor did Disney respond to a request for comment.
“The level of secrecy around Club 33 is quite startling, but it has been there since the club’s earliest days, and it continues to be a Disney parks anomaly today,” say Florida-based Disney travel experts Simon and Susan Veness. “For somewhere that is never slow to promote its rides and attractions, this ultra-expensive ‘insiders’ club’ is distinctly incongruous and out of step with the general pixie dust nature of the theme parks.”
We do know that entry is fiercely competitive. In 2012, Disneyland Resort President George Kalogridis took the unusual step of opening up the club’s waiting list for the first time in over a decade, and he spilled a few tantalising details – such as that members would have a Disney concierge: one person who would “arrange whatever it is that you’d like”.
More recently social media has demystified Club 33: Search that hashtag on Instagram or X, and numerous pictures pop up along with gushing captions about this “once in a lifetime” experience or “dream come true” birthday meal.
But overshare, or break the rules, and you risk expulsion from this pricey paradise. In 2015 Joseph Cosgrove, who claims to be one of the first 100 members of Club 33, lost his membership when he allowed a friend to auction off his membership passes. Disneyland spokeswoman Suzi Brown said that the Cosgroves had “repeatedly transferred and sold their membership privileges,” adding: “Unfortunately, we were left with no other choice in order to preserve the integrity of membership.”
Actress Rebel Wilson was suspended, as she gleefully announced on The Daily Show in 2023, for taking a photo “in a secret bathroom inside Disneyland” – aka Club 33’s bathroom.
Scott and Diana Anderson, who own a golf course in Arizona, have also fallen foul of Disney bosses. Their membership was revoked in 2017 when Scott was found on a bench by park security, who claimed they smelled alcohol on his breath. Scott maintains he suffered from a “vestibular migraine” triggered by red wine.
The Andersons spent $400,000 (£304,000) in legal costs and sought $231,000 (£176,000) in damages taking Disney to court to get their membership reinstated, but this week they lost their case.
An incensed Diana told The Hollywood Reporter that “conservatively, 80 per cent of all members are selling access […] getting about $125 [£95] for lunch a head”, as well as flogging merchandise online – Diana said that Club 33-branded gardening vests and shears would go for $1,000 (£761) “because they’re so rare”. Scott claims it’s necessary to pay the extortionate dues.
Diana complained that privileges such as being able to ride Walt’s personal car, the Lilly Belle, on the Disneyland Railroad train used to be free for members, but now cost $85 (£64), and that the club was sometimes closed down for celebrities, such as on one Thanksgiving for Hanks and his family. Scott also alleged “a bigger scandal”: That Katy Perry auctioned off club access for charity for $160,000 (£122,000).
General enthusiasm for the club seems undented despite these ructions – “It is a cult, and Walt’s the messiah,” summed up Diana – but it seems the Happiest Place on Earth now has some very disgruntled, and very vocal, customers.