Pre-Meal for Apr 8, 2026Anything Can Be New Again

Happy Wednesday!

I grumbled a little when I clicked “Pay” on tickets to The Wizard of Oz at the Sphere in Las Vegas. “This feels like a LOT OF MONEY for an eighty-six-year-old movie. . . .”

But a month later, I stumbled out of the Sphere into a world that felt transformed: the only word I can think to describe my state of mind is gobsmacked.

The Sphere itself? Unreasonable. The number of people required to reimagine the movie so the screens could wrap around the audience, enveloping us? Unreasonable. The tornado scene, complete with wind machines, paper leaves swirling overhead, and apples dropping from the ceiling? Unreasonable.

Which, I realized, perfectly suits its subject material, because when The Wizard of Oz was first made, it was also completely unreasonable.

Prosthetics were still in their infancy, so makeup artists glued layers of thin cotton to Ray Bolger’s face, ensuring the Scarecrow’s stitched-together mask would move naturally. Dorothy’s red slippers are silver in the novel, but silver didn’t pop in brand-new Technicolor, so the costume department sewed an astonishing 2,300 tiny, brilliant red sequins onto size 5 satin heels.

Because the technology to shoot in both black-and-white and color didn’t yet exist, that iconic transition scene was filmed in color: the crew painted the black-and-white set in grayscale by hand—including Dorothy’s dress—to make the effect possible. They wanted to bring that idea to life so badly, they invented a way to do it. Which is totally, completely unreasonable.

And, at the Sphere, eight decades later: different team, different technologies, the same obsession with making magic.

Look, The Wizard of Oz is awesome; it’s been delighting children and adults for the better part of a century. Nobody—nobody—thought it could be improved upon. But when you start with something great, then pour an unreasonable amount of energy into how the reimagined experience is going to feel for the people having it, you can make anything new again—and you can make it absolutely unforgettable.

Have a good service,

Will