Approaching the Animal Kingdom parking lot the problems start becoming evident. Visible above the area's lush green landscape is the freezer-burned broccoli floret top of the Tree of Life. As a sculpture, it's breathtaking. But to see its sickly pale hues protruding from the distance above the vibrant Florida greenery it's a leafy testament to the park's phoniness. Folks expecting an animal park to serve as a living, breathing respite from Central Florida's other audioanimatronic-intensive havens realize that they have been duped even before they're sent snaking through the asphalt.