We're Not in Kansas Anymore…
The Wizard of Oz has always meant something special to me. As a child, it wasn’t just a movie—it was a doorway to another world. I watched it over and over again, wide-eyed every time Dorothy stepped from her monochrome farmhouse into a dazzling Technicolor dream. That moment never stopped feeling magical. All these years later, it’s still my favorite film. So when I heard that Google, Sphere Entertainment, Warner Bros. Discovery, and Magnopus were working together to reimagine the film using advanced AI tools for the Las Vegas Sphere, I was intrigued—and honestly, a little emotional.
The idea of The Wizard of Oz being transformed for a venue like the Sphere feels like a fitting next chapter in its legacy. The Sphere itself is a marvel of immersive technology—a 360-degree canvas of sound, light, and motion. Bringing Oz to that space doesn’t mean remaking it. It means expanding it. Respecting its original charm while using today’s tools to see just how far it can go. AI is playing a central role in this reimagining. Google’s models are upscaling the original footage, restoring details, extending backgrounds, even adding characters that were only implied or offscreen in the original frame. It’s like the story is growing—not in plot, but in depth and dimension.
Somewhere over the rainbow the creative use of AI blooms. And not just for this one beloved film. What’s happening with The Wizard of Oz is just a glimpse of how AI is beginning to shift the entire creative landscape. We’re seeing it in film, art, design, storytelling, even music. But the most exciting part isn’t the technology itself—it’s how artists and technologists are working together to imagine new ways of seeing, feeling, and understanding. AI, at its best, becomes an extension of our imagination. It helps us ask different questions. It helps us go wider, go deeper.
What’s happening now isn’t so different from what happened in 1939. Back then, The Wizard of Oz was groundbreaking. Technicolor wasn’t just a gimmick—it was a bold storytelling device. Practical effects were pushed to the limit. Music and narrative were fused in a way few films had attempted. It was risky, experimental, and ambitious. And today, we’re doing something similar—but with different tools. Instead of film reels and matte paintings, we’re using neural networks and machine learning models. But the goal is the same: to bring stories to life in ways that feel new.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed by talk of AI. The pace of change is dizzying, and the headlines often focus on fear or hype. But at its core, creativity has always evolved through its tools—paintbrushes, cameras, computers, and now, code. What we’re seeing is not the end of human creativity. It’s an invitation to reimagine what’s possible when we work in collaboration with these tools. The yellow brick road hasn’t disappeared—it’s just unfolding in unexpected directions.
And maybe that’s what makes this moment feel so full of potential. For someone like me, who grew up enchanted by a girl in ruby slippers, watching this new version come to life with the help of AI doesn’t feel like a betrayal of the original—it feels like a continuation of the dream. It’s a reminder that wonder is never static. It evolves, it expands, and if we’re open to it, it can still take us somewhere entirely new.
We’re not in Kansas anymore. And honestly, that’s kind of wonderful. Now I just need to figure out how to get myself to the Sphere later this year to see this magical reimagining in person. Maybe, just maybe… if I click my ruby slippers together at the right time, they’ll take me straight there.
