When we walked around the new Times Square Disney Store, which opens today, we were taken by an overwhelming feeling of "meh." Perhaps our expectations were just too high, but when the Disney Store finally arrives to place the pink polyethylene crown atop already Disneyfied Times Square, one at least expects something a little epic, or at least a state of the art soul-crushing monument to crass commercialism. Reverend Billy, this place isn't worth the effort. It's just a big store.

At 20,000 square feet, the store is indeed the mother of all Disney stores, and expects to absorb roughly 11,000 consumers a day. The former Virgin Records megastore has been gutted, removing the second-floor mezzanine and part of the fourth floor, leaving a downstairs (where the merchandise is "geared towards adults") and an upstairs, where children are supposed to have the "best 30 minutes of their day," said Jim Fielding, president of Disney Stores Worldwide. This is debatable.

The focal point of the store is a 20-foot "princess castle" facade, with two magical mirrors that little girls are told will talk to them if they "believe hard enough" in the magic of Disney. Or, if they wave an RFID-enabled wand in front of the plastic jewel-encased magical sensors. The mirror's screen lights up, and an animation of a Disney princess greets the child. This is, by far, the niftiest attraction in the store, even if it is confusing the daylights out of every little girl who will inevitably cajole their parent into buying the wand, and will have their little hearts promptly crushed when they wave it in front of the mirror at home, praying fruitlessly to the Disney gods, "I promise I believe!" only to become mired in a lifelong spiral of self-blame and insecurity. But we all have to grow up sometime!

The princess mirrors are the only indication that Steve Jobs, who sits on Disney's board, had a hand in the store. Where are the iPad coloring books? The voice-activated fleet of Buzz Lighyears? Basically, the store is lacking the awe-inducing bits of interactive technology on a "grand scale" we were led to expect. It's like buying a ticket to Tron Legacy and getting The Lion King 1½ instead. If anyone needs us, we'll be eating our feelings at the Hershey store.