Maryland is betting big on the Sphere. We had to see it up close.

LAS VEGAS — Casinos tower in the skyline and span blocks, but none has quite the gravitational pull of the orb that landed in the desert.

Once you’re in its orbit, the all-seeing monolith summons for a full-body immersion into a distorted reality. Over the course of one day, I watched flying monkeys, a floating green head and a rattling tornado.

I wound down with an homage to the mind-distorting starlit tunnel of “2001: A Space Odyssey.” Then, a grotesque dental exam animated as a roller-coaster ride. The encore? A kaleidoscopic projection of a 61-year-old man in a muumuu playing a vacuum cleaner that sounded like farts.

This, I’m told, is the future of live entertainment. More than a million people can’t be wrong, right?

In Sin City, assaults on the senses rival the grains of sand in the surrounding Mojave Desert. But the Sphere stands out as a different kind of attraction.

It overwhelms with its 366-foot-tall, 516-foot-wide omnipresence — about as high as the world’s tallest redwood tree and stretching 1 1/2 football fields. The 580,000-square-foot panel of LED lights on the exterior emits a glow that its creators claim, to some skepticism, can be seen from space. (Perhaps the aliens’ first contact will not be scientists but rather an electric yellow emoji or an ad for the accounting firm PricewaterhouseCoopers — a real ad on the Sphere.)

The gamble is still in play in Vegas. It was a rocky start after the Sphere, or simply Sphere as it’s called by officials, opened in 2023, two years behind schedule and nearly $1 billion over budget. But in 2025 the entertainment venue took in $379 million and sold 1.7 million tickets for performances from artists such as the Eagles, Backstreet Boys and Dead & Company, according to reports.

Maryland officials are betting that a smaller Sphere in National Harbor will jolt economic development in the region and transform Prince George’s County for years to come. Officials hope to open it by 2030.

It will be the first Sphere spawn outside Vegas, where visitors come prepared to empty their wallets at places such as the Sphere that can charge hundreds of dollars for entry. But residents of Prince George’s County, and the Sphere’s soon-to-be neighbors in Oxon Hill, have been riding out a murky financial reality that could be getting worse.

So what’s the Sphere like?

I set out on a recent Friday to take it all in. First up on the calendar was an afternoon showing of the Sphere-specific version of 1939’s “The Wizard of Oz.”

An 800-person production team reimagined the film using practical, immersive effects, such as billowing smoke and drone-controlled flying monkeys, with computer-generated visual effects and artificial intelligence, according to The Washington Post.

“We’re not talking about this as a movie,” producer Jane Rosenthal told The Post. “We’re talking about this as an experience.”

I wish I had my own Sphere to project the arched eyebrow emoji. Oh boy.

The film, which has been trimmed to 75 minutes from its original 102, began screening daily in August with showtimes at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. Tickets start at $104. It was hard not to be charmed by attendees across generations at my screening, donning gingham dresses and their finest ruby-red slippers.

But my susceptibility to charm was tested as the movie started and Judy Garland’s beaming smile began to look uncanny as it soared above us in digitally modified form. One haunting question of our digital age kept rattling in my brain during the dreary Kansas sequence: Did they yassify Dorothy?

However, the experience was delightful when it became a full-on amusement park attraction. When the haptics on my seat in Section 205 began vibrating, I smiled as cutout leaves swirled around the auditorium and the sound of a gusting tornado rose to a decibel level that swallowed the dome.

That smile was short-lived when the once-Technicolor dreamscape of the Land of Oz swept through the Sphere and revealed a horizon of unease. Newly created images of flora and blue skies looked as if they were taken from a PlayStation 4 video game.

Is somewhere over the rainbow a television screensaver? My Sphere’s emoji would nod its head: yes.

‘Getting lost in it’

I left Oz in a daze. But I still had another date with the Sphere and its latest musical resident, Phish, that night.

The Vermont quartet has built a legacy as America’s premier jam band in the post-Grateful Dead world. It previously played the Vegas venue four times in April 2024 before returning for a nine-show weekend residency that began April 16.

To put it generously: I’m Phish-skeptical. I have too much knowledge about its whole deal from spending hours listening to a podcast in which a devotee tries to convert a skeptic. So I cast a net among the Phish “phaithful” and asked them to preach their gospel.

Thankfully, George Karabelas was in Vegas after making the trek from his home in Timonium. He said he’s gone to 130 Phish shows but made a point to visit the Sphere.

“I mean, the venue is incredible,” said Karabelas, an engineering project manager. “The sound is amazing, and Phish is my favorite band. I had to make it happen.

“Normally, you go to an act and you’re looking at the musicians, but you find yourself staring at the screen and getting lost in it.”

Let’s talk about that sound.

Across “Wizard of Oz” and Phish, the most immediately pleasurable quality of the Sphere was its audio. Sound mixes can get muddled at large arenas and stadiums. But here instruments and vocals punched through and ping-ponged around the dome with nearly crystal clarity.

It was almost enough to get me to join the thousands of, let’s say, less-than-diverse attendees, who were throwing their best arm-swimming, hip-swaying dance moves.

My strongest reaction was the chuckle of disbelief when Jon Fishman emerged from behind his drum kit and played an old vacuum while he was projected as towering more than 300 feet above us.

It was a great distillation of Phish: goofy yet maybe not for me.

The hope for Prince George’s

Prince George’s County Executive Aisha Braveboy went to see the spectacle herself in December while working to lure the Sphere to Maryland.

“I knew right away that this was the type of entertainment experience that would work extremely well with National Harbor,” Braveboy told me.

“It gives us an opportunity to grow our footprint as a place where people want to go to experience something amazing and new and different.”

Prince George’s County has been eager for a development such as the Sphere as it contends with the closure of Six Flags America in Bowie and the forthcoming departure of the Washington Commanders.

Vegas’ version can seat 17,600 people and can grow to 20,000 with standing room. A similarly sized Sphere is planned for Abu Dhabi, while the project in Maryland is expected to seat 6,000.

Braveboy said projected revenues for the Sphere would triple what the departing attractions contributed to the county.

County officials intend to provide $170 million for the project, including $130 million in tax increment financing from the state that was approved in April. The financing will allow the county to issue bonds that are paid back through projected property taxes.

But economists have long been wary of such rosy projections. Experts told The Banner in January the subsidy seemed outsize because the venue could already charge premium prices and attract affluent customers without incentives.

Braveboy said there were naysayers with National Harbor also.

“I can tell you there was a lot of folks who didn’t want it, who said it was gonna fail,” Braveboy said. “And 20-plus years later it’s still booming, thriving and is our largest single revenue source in the county.”

The other costs

Karabelas, 34, had seen Phish’s show the night prior to me and had a ticket for the closing Saturday performance. He spent $763 for the three-day pass.

I found a ticket for Phish’s penultimate show during this Sphere run on the resale market for $266. The price of admission for some seats through Ticketmaster or other resale sites was double or triple what I paid. Music fans have long worried about the rising cost of tickets to see popular artists at large venues.

The specter of the Sphere could also shake up booking calculations for artists and venues across Maryland and the region.

Phish is scheduled to perform two nights at Columbia’s Merriweather Post Pavilion in July. Sphere officials have said they hope experiences can transfer across locations.

Merriweather can hold more than 19,000 guests. But it remains an open question whether that means fans like Karabelas will get double the Phish in Maryland in the years to come or whether the Sphere will siphon away acts and maintain Vegas’ residency model.

Comparably sized venues include the Anthem on D.C.’s waterfront, which has hosted past and future Sphere resident Kenny Chesney. The concert hall, which opened in 2017, also holds 6,000 attendees and is owned by I.M.P., the company that operates Merriweather. Even Sphere’s next-door neighbor, the Theater at MGM National Harbor, which can host 3,000-4,000 people, may face competition for marquee performers.

After taking it all in, Karabelas said the Sphere is different. He didn’t hesitate when asked whether he’d attend shows at Maryland’s Sphere.

“Totally,” Karabelas said. “I’m 100% going to be interested in trying to go.”

After my final, nearly four hours encased in the Sphere, I stumbled out with thousands into the din and the bright displays of the Venetian’s casino floor.

Thousands went from their seats, consumed by a massive screen, to smaller portals along the Vegas Strip or in their pockets that lured them with the same promise of immersion and gratification.

In the Sphere, we could leave and try to reset our eyes and mind.

On our sphere, it seems we’re destined to live alongside costly screens.

And it looks like Maryland is willing to go all in.