‘Wizard of Oz’ at Las Vegas’ Sphere feels more like a ride than a movie (with Disneyland-level pricing)

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As a cinephile, I can’t help but feel that “The Wizard of Oz” is just the ticket for Sphere – the grandest, most lavish entertainment complex Las Vegas has ever seen. Since its debut in 1939, this timeless masterpiece has been captivating audiences with its mesmerizing magic sphere, be it gleaming on a crystal ball at a psychic’s table, whisking the mischievous Glinda the Good Witch away, or keeping a close watch on a young girl and her friends, like some mysterious surveillance camera with a mind of its own.

The magic in “Oz” is actually created by technicians, not wizards, as seen when the trickery behind the spectacle is unveiled. For Sphere, a structure without an article, the technology includes vast LED screens that encircle its dome interior and exterior, with Vegas illuminated day and night by rotating animations on the outside. The cost of building Sphere is estimated at $2.3 billion, making its electricity bill as frightening as the Wicked Witch herself. From an airplane, you can just about see Dorothy’s slippers.

I was effortlessly transported to the premiere of “The Wizard of Oz” in Sphere, a red sedan driven by a Lyft driver named Ruby – not kidding! She mentioned that the Backstreet Boys’ recent concert had revitalized Vegas’s entertainment scene briefly. The young woman portraying Dorothy from Kansas is under significant financial stress. The transformation of the film to fit Sphere’s breathtaking scale required approximately $100 million. Despite the arena holding 17,600 people at full capacity, only a third of that – the middle section – is being utilized for “Oz” screenings. A condensed 70-minute version of the movie runs two to three times daily until March 2026, with tickets starting at $114 initially.

86 years ago, as a 6-year-old, my grandmother marveled at the transition of the movie screen from sepia to vibrant color brilliance. This transformative moment was often attributed to Hollywood, yet the concept of juxtaposing the rich and radiant Land of Oz against the drab monochrome Kansas originated from L. Frank Baum’s book itself, published in May 1900. In his own words, Baum aimed to craft a contemporary fairy tale, trading Old World elves for American scarecrows. “When Dorothy stepped into the doorway and looked around,” Baum penned, “all she could see was the vast gray prairie in every direction, and her house, her tired aunt and uncle, everything else was also shrouded in that same gray hue, stretching all the way to the edge of the sky.

Sphere’s primary function is to expand to its limits in every direction. It doesn’t aim to replace or conserve film, but rather to enhance a standard rectangular screen with additional digital and (somewhat controversially) AI-generated imagery, synchronized props, and seats that vibrate when the Wicked Witch makes a sound.

As a cinephile embarking on an unconventional journey, I must confess my initial reservations about trimming “Oz” by a substantial 30 minutes. Yet, this cinematic experiment proved to be a whirlwind of fun! Transported into the world of one of my cherished films, I found myself enveloped – or better yet, encircled – by iconic scenes from a groundbreaking blockbuster whose artistic impact reverberates across David Lynch’s surreal landscapes, Elton John’s melodies, and Salman Rushdie’s vivid narratives.

But the most unexpected twist was being showered with fragrant foam apples and repeatedly assaulted by a squadron of drone-controlled flying monkeys! Laughter echoed through the theater as we collectively reveled in this unforgettable experience. Though I entered with hesitation, I left the screening feeling invigorated and eager to witness what other cinematic surprises awaited us.

Entertainment & Arts

In my eyes, Las Vegas is famed for its iconic Egyptian pyramids, captivating dancing fountains, and a replica of the Roman cityscape. However, what truly elevates the surreal atmosphere is the extraordinary, globe-shaped structure that beams out eyeballs – an unforgettable spectacle to behold.

The classic film “The Wizard of Oz” has consistently been at the forefront of technological advancements. It was one of the first films to adopt Technicolor, boasting a lighting budget almost twice as high as its contemporary rival, “Gone With the Wind.” Despite this, “Gone With the Wind” swept nearly every Academy Award and even stole “Oz’s” director, Victor Fleming, who left mid-production for “Gone With the Wind” and won an Oscar for his work on Sherman’s March instead of the Yellow Brick Road. In the 1950s, when most of Hollywood was apprehensive about television, “The Wizard of Oz” became the first theatrical movie to air in full on a prime-time network. This transition from the big screen to television transformed what was initially a money-losing prestige project into a hit. Now, the film has become a focal point for discussions about the role of AI in the industry, with both artists and audiences expressing concerns about a future where there may be no human behind the curtain.

My preference leans towards artwork created by humans, but I’m not one to dwell on the past. “Oz,” which has been a book, a musical, a silent film, and a cartoon before MGM’s beloved version, is a canvas for innovation. It should serve as a playground for creativity.

Stepping into Sphere, I’m greeted by a sepia-toned escalator ride, accompanied by the soothing sounds of nature – chirping birds and lowing cattle. It’s as if I haven’t yet ventured over the rainbow. Before the main event, I find myself seated in a grand old opera house, bathed in dusky green light. The stage is absent, along with the musicians warming up to play “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.” Instead, the anticipation hangs heavy in the air, ready to unveil the wonders of this cinematic journey.

The imitation of traditional craftsmanship, such as backstage crew and brass players concealed off-stage, can be unsettling. Yet, it prompts thoughts about the real, modern individuals working behind the scenes. Visual artists involved in the Sphere project have rightfully complained that their hard work has been overlooked and attributed to AI. A genuine symphony orchestra re-recorded “Oz’s” mono score on the exact MGM stage from 1939, with some of the same instruments used. It sounds magnificent, and due to its faithful recreation of every lively note, audiences might not distinguish the difference.

In this revised version, some portions of the film have been entirely removed. The Cowardly Lion no longer belts out his aspirations to be the forest’s king. Most shots have been trimmed slightly to make the pace quicker, a tempo that wouldn’t align well with stoners who enjoy synchronizing films to Pink Floyd’s psychedelic “The Dark Side of the Moon.” Occasionally, the camera angles seem to have been changed to better fill the screen. In Dorothy’s Kansas home, a frying pan previously hidden in the shadows now hangs prominently on the wall, as does a newly added “Home Sweet Home” embroidery on the doorstep. (With such a swift narrative, you might easily overlook the message that there’s no place like home.)

The modifications can be delicate yet captivating. Dorothy sings “Over the Rainbow” beneath newly transformed bluebirds and a strikingly ominous sky. When the tornado occurs, the technological upgrades strike us as forcefully as a cyclone. We’re swept through the window and into the heart of the storm, where a cow whirls around, seemingly trying to outdo the memorable cow from “Twister.” A powerful gust of wind from the 750-horsepower fans sent my bangs flying off my forehead. I managed to keep one eye on the screen while attempting to grab a flurry of paper leaves. The impact is so astonishing that you might miss that Sphere’s founder and CEO, James Dolan, along with Warner Bros. president and CEO David Zaslav, have been digitally inserted into the rowboat scene, a fitting inside joke for those worried the executives might have been carried away by their own pompousness.

This version maintains the essence of your original text while using simpler language and sentence structures to make it more easily understandable.

Dolan told the crowd before the movie started, ‘Anyone can blow wind on you, but not everyone can make you feel like a tornado.’ Wearing his distinctive green top hat and suit, Dolan didn’t formally introduce himself, but he did acknowledge the other creators of the event, who were also dressed in costumes. It seems that some people thought Dolan was joking about dressing up until they spent four hours getting prepared to look lion-like.

Last week, during test runs, the aroma of perfume filled the air in the Emerald City, allowing visitors a sneak peek of its scent. (Considering the mint chocolate candles in the Sphere’s souvenir shop, it seems to be a delightful blend.) However, they’ve temporarily stopped this practice due to worries that it could become too intense. Now that we’ve mastered sight, sound, and touch, only one sense remains elusive: “We haven’t quite cracked the code on taste yet,” Dolan admitted.

The allure of Sphere’s “Oz” may still be captivating, but upon arrival at Munchkinland, some of its magical charm seems to fade. Interestingly, with the introduction of tall trees in Oz, it appears less fantastical and more ordinary.

In this paraphrased version, I’ve tried to use simpler words and phrases while maintaining the original meaning. The aim is to make the sentence easier to understand without losing any essential information or nuances.

The design teams are faced with an enormous task – they need to enlarge a small, matte painting of a hallway archway, originally painted in pastels on black cardboard, into a grand 240-foot-tall scene for the Wizard’s throne room. One of the production designers from the 1939 film, Jack Martin Smith, was asked to make Oz appear dreamy and soft. The hand-painted muslin background of the cornfield seems reminiscent of early Rothko works, with each kernel now clearly visible. The sharp mountains in the distance don’t just stimulate imagination – they resemble Machu Picchu.

In simpler and more conversational terms: The Munchkins and Emerald City residents are causing quite a fuss, constantly looking agitated. When Dorothy begs the Wizard not to leave without her, it’s hard to focus with all the extras waving uninterestedly. It gets even worse when they seem to malfunction. If this is the best AI performance in 2025, Sphere isn’t impressively advanced.

Instead, Judy Garland’s performance at only 16 years old comes across as nothing short of monumental. Her large, brown eyes capture the screen. However, during the scene where the heartbroken girl cries that the Wicked Witch has taken her cherished Toto, I found a somewhat uninterested flying monkey on the left side of the frame to be slightly distracting.

The sea of poppies sparkles vividly, yet the occasional deer, ants, and rodents scurrying on the golden pathway appear quite peculiar. In truth, you’re engrossed in the spectacle to such a degree that the emotional tones of the narrative seem like theme park rides’ mechanical workings. Yet, it’s pleasant to appreciate the revisited special effects from the first movie: the Lion’s lifted nostrils, the loosely hanging cheeks on the Scarecrow, and the horses painted with Jell-O, now purple and red – though only two ponies are shown instead of all six due to time constraints.

I shuddered upon seeing the Wizard’s floating head grow large. It seems someone designed him to look like a tacky Martian. Upon reviewing his old sketches from 1939, it became clear that he had always been so unappealing. His hollow cheeks were less noticeable before. However, do make sure to look right when Toto exposes Oz’s control room. In an intriguing twist, Sphere allows us to still witness the grotesque green face, now weakened and comical, while it speaks as the frantic technician apologizes for being a sham.

Could Sphere potentially succeed with its daring strategy, likening itself to the iconic MGM dome experience? It’s not unprecedented for Las Vegas attractions to wager on our enduring fondness for the MGM spectacle that is “The Wizard of Oz.” The connection between the classic film and Las Vegas has been significant since 1969, when real estate tycoon Kirk Kerkorian bought MGM Studios. A year later, he auctioned Dorothy’s ruby slippers to finance the construction of the first MGM Grand Hotel and Casino. The subsequent MGM Grand, opened in 1993, was themed around “The Wizard of Oz,” explaining its Emerald City-like color, and during that time, visitors could stroll through an animated forest featuring lions, tigers, and gamblers.

Once upon a time, The Strip was a captivating realm where the innocent, like Dorothy, would venture into mischief, frequently crossing paths with deceptive charlatans such as Professor Marvel. The anticipation is palpable that tourists will return to this land of Oz, even at a hefty admission fee that could potentially mortgage a portion of your family farm. However, the challenge lies in the fact that despite audiences becoming reluctantly used to shelling out over $100 to witness live performances by their favorite musicians, they’re still experiencing the real deal and not a condensed cinematic rendition of a beloved film that we grew up watching for free on television.

On the opening night, the cinema was more like a concert venue, with audiences donning costumes and behaving lively. Even I, in a whimsical moment, wore red shoes. When I praised a man’s blue gingham suit, he generously gifted me a homemade Taylor Swift-esque beaded bracelet that read: Toto Too.

If audiences find success with the techno-adaptation of “Oz”, Sphere hints at possibly creating another adaptation, this time of “Gone With the Wind.” Can you imagine the aroma of Atlanta in flames? That’s a far cry from the scent of burning money.

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2025-09-03 22:31