The Wizard of the Emerald City, Part I

The Yellow Brick Road is looking remarkably high-definition these days, but it’s carrying some heavy baggage from 1939. Walking into Igor Voloshin’s The Wizard of the Emerald City, Part I, I found myself bracing for another "gritty" reboot of a childhood staple. We’ve seen enough "dark" fairy tales in the last decade to last a lifetime. Thankfully, this 2025 adaptation of Alexander Volkov’s beloved book—which is essentially the Soviet-era remix of L. Frank Baum’s Oz—opts for something far more interesting: a vibrant, tactile sense of adventure that feels like it actually wants to be liked by children and adults alike.

A Different Shade of Green

For those of us raised on the Judy Garland classic, the names might sound like a glitch in the Matrix. It’s Elli, not Dorothy. The dog is Totoshka. And that gleaming city at the end of the road? It’s a bit more "architectural marvel" and a bit less "cardboard set." I watched this in a theater where the air conditioning was cranked so high I had to wrap my scarf around my head like a desert nomad, and honestly, the freezing temperature only made the scorching landscapes of the Munchkin country feel more inviting.

The story beats are familiar, but Igor Voloshin injects a contemporary energy into the pacing that avoids the "Part I" bloat we’ve come to expect from franchise-starters. At 104 minutes, it’s lean. It doesn't spend forty minutes in the "distant city" before the hurricane hits. We get the spectacle early, and it is genuinely impressive. Produced by Nikita Mikhalkov’s outfit and Central Partnership, the film manages to make a $9.1 million budget look like $90 million. It’s a reminder that while Hollywood is currently wobbling under the weight of bloated $300 million budgets, international productions are becoming the real wizards of efficiency.

Iron Hearts and Brazen Villains

The real magic, however, isn’t in the CGI hurricanes; it’s in the casting. Ekaterina Chervova carries the film with a grounded, non-precocious performance as Elli. It’s refreshing to see a child lead who doesn't feel like they’ve been coached to death by a TikTok influencer. But the scene-stealers are the companions. Yuri Kolokolnikov (whom you might recognize as the terrifying Styr from Game of Thrones) brings a surprising, clanking tenderness to the Iron Woodman. He’s massive, imposing, and yet his search for a heart feels genuinely poignant rather than a series of puns.

On the flip side of the moral compass, Svetlana Khodchenkova as the wicked Bastinda is eating every piece of scenery within a five-mile radius. She understands that in a contemporary fantasy, you either go big or you go home. Her performance leans into the high-camp villainy that has become a staple of the streaming era’s "reimagined" antagonists, yet she keeps enough of a sharp edge to actually be threatening. When she’s on screen, the film moves from a standard family adventure into something closer to a dark operetta.

The Contemporary Franchise Curse

If I have one gripe—and it’s a symptom of the era we live in—it’s the "Part I" in the title. We are currently living through the "To Be Continued" epoch of cinema. Whether it’s Dune or Spider-Verse, directors are no longer allowed to tell a single story; they have to build a "Collection." While The Wizard of the Emerald City handles its climax well enough, there’s a lingering sense of narrative blue-balls when the credits roll just as things are getting truly weird.

The film also grapples with the "Volume" aesthetic. While much of the production design is tactile and gorgeous, there are moments where the virtual production techniques feel a bit too polished—the lighting is sometimes a little too perfect, the horizons a little too controlled. It lacks the messy, dirty thumbprint of the practical effects seen in 80s fantasy like The NeverEnding Story, but I suppose that’s the price we pay for the seamless magic of 2025.

Stuff You Didn't Notice

Interestingly, the film’s production had to navigate a very different landscape than the original 1939 film or even the 1990s Russian adaptations. To capture the unique "otherworldliness" of the country of the Munchkins, the crew reportedly utilized AI-assisted environment rendering to create plant life that doesn't follow standard biological rules. It’s a subtle touch—a flower that moves just a bit too late, a sky with a hue that shouldn't exist—but it adds to the "fever dream" quality of the journey. Also, look closely at the Iron Woodman’s design; Yuri Kolokolnikov’s suit features intricate engravings that tell the story of the character's lost life, a detail that is barely mentioned but adds incredible texture to the world-building.

This is a film that understands its moment. It’s a visually lush, emotionally sincere adventure that respects its literary roots while embracing the technological toys of the mid-2020s. It doesn't quite reach the status of an instant classic—we need to see if Part II can stick the landing first—but it is a joyful reminder that some roads are worth walking down more than once. If you're looking for a reason to go back to the cinema, Elli and her strange, metallic friends are a pretty great excuse.

I left the theater into a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and for a split second, I found myself looking at the pavement, half-expecting a faint shimmer of yellow brick to guide me home. That’s about as much as you can ask from a fantasy film these days. It’s a trip worth taking, even if we’re only halfway there.