Growing up, The Wizard of Oz was an annual event in my household. Once a year, the whole family gathered around the television, and for those 102 minutes, Dorothy’s journey became ours. When that tornado swept through Kansas, we held our breath together. When she clicked those ruby slippers, we believed right alongside her. So when I heard that the Sphere in Las Vegas was mounting an immersive, AI-enhanced version of Victor Fleming’s 1939 masterpiece, my first instinct was protective skepticism. Some things are sacred. Some things don’t need improving.

I should tell you upfront: to truly appreciate this experience, you need to think of it not as The Wizard of Oz but as The Wizard of Oz at Sphere. They are now different entities, different films entirely. The original runs 102 minutes and takes its time establishing Dorothy (Judy Garland, A Star Is Born) and her Kansas life. The Sphere version has been trimmed to 75 minutes—better to fit three screenings into one Vegas day—and that compression gives the film an odd rhythm, like a Cliffs Notes version playing at 1.5x speed. Songs have been shortened. Entire numbers have vanished. “If I Were King of the Forest,” the Cowardly Lion’s grandiose sung sololiquy (and, I’ll confess, my childhood bathroom break song before I understood what a character-building moment it was), has been completely erased, though his flower pot crown inexplicably remains on the ground (I guess AI wasn’t able to delete that now-unnecessary prop.)

Speaking of, the AI enhancements are a mixed bag. Full backgrounds have been created for nearly every scene, many bursting with 16K details. The inside of the Gale home now has three walls and a ceiling. Various flora and fauna waft in thew wind at the extreme sides during scenes. Easter egg moments pop up here and there. Before we meet the Cowardly Lion, see if you catch a brief glimpse of a tiger in the bushes or watch for ants crawling up a tree.

But it’s when the technology attempts to enhance living faces that things get…uncomfortable. Aunt Em’s beautifully weathered face now looks like a gray marshmallow with features drawn on with a Sharpie. Garland herself suffers a poreless plastic sheen that smooths away the delicate lighting that once gave her skin such warmth. In Munchkinland, AI-generated extras stare into space, their eyelines rarely matching the action (when they are even looking in the right direction), creating nightmare fuel where wonder should live. Sphere Entertainment CEO James Dolan and Warner Bros. Discovery’s David Zaslav even inserted their faces onto two background sailors during the tornado sequence—a vanity decision that’s indefensible when you’re already asking audiences to accept so many artistic compromises in a cherished property.

And yet.

That tornado. Let me tell you about that tornado. The modern technicians and artists who worked on this sequence deserve some kind of special achievement award. Rumbling seats, flashing lights, gigantic wind machines, leaves swirling around you, sound surrounding you from 167,000 speakers—it all combines to put you right in the center of the funnel. Our audience erupted in cheers, breathless. I’ve experienced 4D technology countless times, and nothing has come close to this. The foam apples raining down from the ceiling when Dorothy confronts the angry trees, the snow falling during the poppy field sequence, the drone-piloted flying monkeys swooping over the audience—each effect lands with precision and genuine delight.

What can be said about this cast that hasn’t already been said? Garland remains an absolute dream in the role, showing spunk and vulnerability, heart and soul. Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, and Bert Lahr are terrific, which makes the trimming of their material all the more disappointing. Margaret Hamilton‘s Wicked Witch of the West, her profile recently raised by Wicked and its sequel, remains legendary—and may be the only performance truly enhanced by this production, her appearances and disappearances gaining new menace in the expanded visual field. The re-recorded score, performed by an 80-piece orchestra on the same soundstage where it was originally recorded, sounds lush and rich, and hey, it’s available for purchase at the Sphere merchandise stands or the online shop!

The communal experience of thousands of people watching The Wizard of Oz title appear on a screen that wraps around and above them, their collective gasps filling the venue, is something I won’t ever forget. As we wiped away tears—maybe remembering watching it with loved ones no longer here, maybe at the sheer overwhelming beauty of it—there was no doubt that whatever oddities were to come over the next 75 minutes, at that moment we weren’t simply over the rainbow. We were over the moon.

Get your tickets to The Wizard of Oz at Sphere here. As of this writing, it has been extended through the end of 2026.