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Santa Fe, N.M. — Meow Wolf is coming to Los Angeles. And with its move to the Southland, the experiential art collective isn’t just taking over a former movie theater, it is, in a sense, placing a skewed spotlight on Hollywood’s grandiosity itself.

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Born in Santa Fe, N.M., more than a decade ago, Meow Wolf’s fast-tracked rise has taken the company to Denver, Las Vegas, Houston and the Dallas suburbs. Along the way the firm has skirted the line between theme park-like interactive experiences and hand-made, outsider art, pitching itself as a new form of all-encompassing, maximalist, sensory overloaded entertainment — or, in the words of one of its creative directors, “that classic feeling of good confusion.”

Destined to open in late 2026 at West L.A.’s Howard Hughes entertainment complex, Meow Wolf has kept much of its plan for Los Angeles under wraps. Until now.

Meow Wolf arist Chris Hilson spins a hanging mobile. Hilson is working on multiple pieces for Meow Wolf Los Angeles.

(Gabriela Campos / For The Times)

A work in progress piece by Los Angeles collective Everything Is Terrible. “Los Angeles is a city built on madness, dreams — broken and realized — and most importantly, simulacra. With this work, we are confronting propaganda, competing narratives, forgotten labor and myths that refuse to die,” said the group in a statement.

(Gabriela Campos/For The Times)

It’s been known that the installation would be taking over a large section of what had long been the Cinemark movie theaters. Meow Wolf, however, is using the location to lean into one of L.A’s longest standing — and currently troubled — ritualistic experiences. In the same way exhibitions in Santa Fe or Las Vegas begin in an otherworldly house or an extraordinary grocery store before getting truly psychedelic, Meow Wolf Los Angeles will launch via a fantastical movie theater, one complete with a concession stand — beware of the animated, sentient candy — and a grand auditorium. Here, describes co-founder and executive vice president Sean Di Ianni, guests may spy transparent seats that appear to be floating.

“Over your head will be etherealized seats — sculptures of these kind of translucent seats that will be animated with light and hyper-directional sound,” Di Ianni says. “You might hear the inner monologue of a previous audience.”

Sean Di Ianni, co-founder of Meow Wolf, is leading development of the Los Angeles space, which is taking over part of Cinemark movie theaters at the Howard Hughes entertainment complex.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

A view into the Meow Wolf warehouse during a walk through of new art projects that will be featured in Meow Wolf L.A.

(Gabriela Campos/For The Times)

When Meow Wolf announced Los Angeles as its next destination for a full-scale, walk-through exhibition in 2024, it did so during a time of tumult, the company having just undergone a round of severe layoffs. And thus, Los Angeles became not just Meow Wolf’s next step but its rebirth.

During a two-day tour of Meow Wolf’s Santa Fe headquarters late last year, the company unveiled multiple pieces of art in various stages of planning, with installation in Los Angeles set to ramp up in the coming weeks. Though Meow Wolf is keeping certain story elements off the record for now, and some plans may shift as art is completed, expect an exhibit based around an intergalactic roadside attraction, a location destined for a pilgrimage. Throughout, guests will explore the hulls of a spaceship, hop on planet-traversing bikes and uncover a divey greasy spoon at the end of the galaxy, complete with sculptures of the proprietor at various stages of his life.

Artist Karen Lembke looks to see how the cape falls for a piece destined for Meow Wolf Los Angeles.

(Gabriela Campos/For The Times)

But by grounding it in the nostalgia and timeless appeal of a movie theater, the hope is to also learn some lessons from more linear entertainment. “We pushed really hard on this one to take that story experience to the next level,” says Shakti Howeth, creative director. “We got so much feedback from other shows that people want more of that. They want it to make sense. They want to understand it. They want to think about it afterwards. They want to grab onto certain characters.”

Thus, it will be Meow Wolf’s first exhibition with a firm beginning, middle and conclusion, even if the latter is a bit open-ended. Meow Wolf is known for its byzantine tales, but here the company is aiming to simplify, zeroing in on a story that coalesces around our instinct for a rite of passage. Think, for instance, of the way humans may trek to witness a newborn panda, or similarly cross the globe to capture the aurora borealis. Locally, ceremonial destinations such as Disneyland or the corner chapel spring to mind — anywhere people gather craving community, connection, reverence and, hopefully, a revelation.

Though narrative plans date to 2022, before Los Angeles was chosen as the locale, once the team knew it was moving into a former movie theater it was sold on the concept. That’s in part due to the transcendent nature of cinema, but also a recognition of what Los Angeles represents culturally.

“It’s cool that we’re creating a story about a pilgrimage because L.A. is that for so many artists, especially people involved in storytelling,” says Howeth. “It’s one of those places that’s built on layers and layers of dreams, and we’re really exploring that here. Not only dreams, but broken dreams — the compost that can happen when you digest broken dreams.”

It’s not the only way the exhibition hopes to reflect Los Angeles. Throughout, we’ll follow the lives of three characters, some known to Meow Wolf die-hards and some new creations, such as a Boyle Heights-raised usher. Elsewhere, an installation bathed in neon and shape-shifting projections nods to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ennis House. And Meow recently completed the filming of multiple short movies that serve as cinematic parodies — a Bob Fosse-inspired musical, a Clint Eastwood-style western, a “Lethal Weapon”-like action flick and more. They’ll be shown throughout the space, and expect to encounter characters possessing a cult-like obsession to the films.

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1. Work in progress pieces by aritst Jess Webb. 2. Costumes by Emmanuelle John. 3. Chris Hilson’s space bike model. (Gabriela Campos/For The Times)

It isn’t lost on Meow Wolf creatives that they’re dabbling in themes of religious-like devotion to the art of storytelling at a time when Hollywood is in flux. The very venue for the exhibition, for instance, was open to the team largely because of the struggles that movie theaters have had to confront.

Early concepts had the exhibition starting, perhaps, in a motel, or a work that nodded to L.A.’s Midcentury architecture. “But being in L.A., a number of sites, due to the dire state of the movie theater business right now, were movie theaters,” says James Longmire, who works on Meow Wolf’s story development. “So why not a movie theater? Why not lean into that? In my mind, that immediately started to connect and feel a lot more resonant to this idea of art and story being important forces in humanity and human growth and how we grapple with not having answers to big questions.”

An art installation, partly inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ennis House, is planned for Meow Wolf Los Angeles.

(Gabriela Campos / For The Times)

And it will be interactive. A spiritual temple, for instance, will house a secretive space that Meow Wolf creatives refer to as a “reverse escape room,” in which guests will have to work together to find and break into. Creative director Elizabeth Jarrett, who worked on Scout Expedition’s long-running immersive L.A. show “The Nest,” is helping to devise a handful of quests and what Meow Wolf is calling “story moments,” which will take over an entire space. Lighting and visual cues, for instance, may direct audience members to collaborate or reposition themselves — a psychic motel room, perhaps, where a tree has grown into a couch. Sit in the right spot and cause the room to come alive with projections and cinematics.

It was important, says Jarrett, for the so-called story moments to be triggered by the audience. “The audience has a sense of agency in the story advancing,” Jarrett says. “We’re communicating when an opportunity is arising for you to choose to engage. The guests are a protagonist and a character as much as any other character in this world. There are characters who speak directly to the audience. We’re experimenting with breaking the fourth wall.”

Not all of the art, of course, will reference film. Meow Wolf is planning, for example, a two-player game in which tarot cards will be digitally constructed exquisite corpse-style. And art curator AJ Girard is working closely with dozens of L.A. artists to bring them into the space. Gabriela Ruiz is one such artist who will have a large presence in the exhibition, a part of Ruiz’s work being an adorably vibrant, multicolored insect that will serve as a periscope.

“I thought about a little bug because they have the ability to see infrared and visualize the world differently than we do,” Ruiz says.

Girard, too, views the space as something of a commentary on L.A. “Social media and social capital is so relevant in our city,” Girard says. “How do we make fun of it in an avant garde, punk, radical way? How do we poke holes at it?”

Meow Wolf Los Angeles will house a cafe that will feature neon art.

(Gabriela Campos/For The Times)

It won’t be easy, especially for a city that sometimes takes its main, exportable art a bit too self-serious. But if Los Angeles has long viewed the movie theater as a temple, perhaps it’s time someone turns one into a playground.

“It’s partly our job to be playful with it, to not let that weight crush us,” Di Ianni says. “Let’s poke fun at movies. Let’s celebrate them. Let’s have fun with the reputation of Los Angeles and its insane impact. We have to play. That’s what we’re inviting the audience to come in to do. They’ll hopefully have meaningful, emotionally resonant experiences that show them a different perspective on their own stories, but to get them there, they’re going to have to play.”

To rebel is to defy. It is to understand that the world as it is can and should be better.

So it’s no surprise rebels were everywhere on our movie screens in 2025. Filmmakers in the U.S. and abroad depicted the lengths to which people will go to stand up against the bland (and at times violent) vision of conformity they see around them. It’s a theme that comes through most organically in these films’ costume designs.

In “Wicked: For Good,” for instance, Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba Thropp stands apart from the glossy superficiality of the Emerald City. Paul Tazewell, an Oscar winner earlier this year for the first “Wicked,” once again wrapped Elphaba’s defiant spirit in the very fabric of her costumes. As she fights for animal rights and defies the authority of that fraud of a Wizard, the titular witch dons dresses and capes (and, yes, even a knitted cardigan that had the internet abuzz) that ground her in that land “made of dirt and rock and loam” she sings about.

Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba in “Wicked: For Good.”

(Giles Keyte / Universal Pictures)

Not that all rebels choose to stand out. In Paul Thomas Anderson’s politically urgent thriller “One Battle After Another” — costumed by four-time Oscar winner Colleen Atwood — members of the French 75 revolutionary group know better than to draw attention to themselves.

“Take Deandra [played by Regina Hall], for instance, who’s always lived off the grid,” Atwood tells The Envelope. “They have lives, but they are still somewhere on the wanted list, and some weirdo can suddenly know who they are. So they really have to blend in. They have to be not noticeable. That was a big goal with everybody’s costume in the movie, all the French 75 costumes — and Leo as well.”

That’s why DiCaprio spends much of the film in a red bathrobe, making him both incredibly hard to miss and also decidedly ordinary-looking. “Would you wear it the whole time?” Atwood remembers asking herself: “Would he get rid of it? And Paul goes, ‘Why would you take off your clothes if you’re running?’”

Leonardo DiCaprio, left, and Benicio Del Toro in “One Battle After Another.”

(Warner Bros. Pictures)

Atwood’s choice to put Benicio Del Toro in a gi and a turtleneck was similarly driven by this approach: These are all people who move through the world wanting to disrupt the system without making such disruption all that conspicuous. Here we may also add the off-the-rack suits Teddy and Don (Jesse Plemons and Aiden Delbis) wear in “Bugonia” to face their kidnapped CEO; the beret-and-turtleneck-wearing revolutionary (Richard Ayoade) in “The Phoenician Scheme”; and the stylish, delightfully unbuttoned shirts Wagner Moura wears throughout “The Secret Agent.”

Not all instances of rebellion are so obviously political. Take Harry Lighton’s deliciously kinky dom-com “Pillion,” which finds shy young Colin (Harry Melling) entering into a BDSM relationship with an enigmatic biker called Ray (Alexander Skarsgård).

“Ray’s an anomaly; he’s the rebel, you can’t place him,” costume designer Grace Snell says. When we first meet him, he is wearing a striking white leather biking outfit: “I wanted him to be like a light at night on this bike and a shiny toy for Colin.”

Harry Melling, left, and Alexander Skarsgård in “Pillion.”

(Festival de Cannes)

The leather and kink gear that Skarsgård, Melling and the rest of the “Pillion” cast wear allowed Snell to give audiences the Tom of Finland fantasy Lighton’s film clearly demands. Yet the film is about a quieter rebellion.

“Colin’s kind of testing his boundaries and understanding who he is as a gay man, and exploring what that means for him,” Snell says. It’s why he spends much of the film in uniform, as a traffic warden, as a member of a barbershop quartet, and later as the new member of Ray’s biker gang.

“Pillion” is about self-fashioning at its most elemental: how gear and uniforms, roles and positions, can help you bloom into yourself; how in losing yourself in another you can find who you want to be.

Blending such a lesson in ways political and personal is Bill Condon’s “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” also costumed by Atwood. The musical is framed by the tension between Valentin (Diego Luna), a righteous revolutionary, and Molina (Tonatiuh), a gay hairdresser, who share a prison cell under Argentina’s military regime.

Diego Luna and Jennifer Lopez in “Kiss of the Spider Woman.”

(Roadside Attractions)

Along with designer Christine L. Cantella, Atwood aimed to honor the history the film was depicting and the message it embodies. “Not only is it set in a revolutionary time, but it’s also about two people opening each other’s eyes to the world,” Atwood says, “in a way that is such a great message for today.”

Atwood and Cantella had to balance the dingy reality of the prison — where Molina finds modest beauty in his silk robes — and the movie musical he loses himself in — where Jennifer Lopez’s Aurora is dressed like a silver-screen siren throughout. Lopez’s big number, where she dons an ode to the all-white ensemble Chita Rivera wore in the original Broadway show, including a fedora to match, is all about the lure of escapist Hollywood fantasy: “Turn off the lights and turn on your mind,” she sings.

As the ending of the musical attests, there may be a way to do both, to be politically engaged and still enjoy the beauty of the world around you. For, as these varied films attest, a rebel doesn’t just voice their discontent at the status quo. They wear it proudly.

The author of the Los Angeles Fire Department’s after-action report on the Palisades fire declined to endorse it because of substantial deletions that altered his findings, calling the edited version “highly unprofessional and inconsistent with our established standards.”

Battalion Chief Kenneth Cook emailed then-interim Fire Chief Ronnie Villanueva and other LAFD officials with the subject line “Palisades AARR Non-Endorsement,” about an hour after the highly anticipated report was made public Oct. 8.

“Having reviewed the revised version submitted by your office, I must respectfully decline to endorse it in its current form,” Cook wrote in the email obtained by The Times. “The document has undergone substantial modifications and contains significant deletions of information that, in some instances, alter the conclusions originally presented.”

Battalion Chief Kenneth Cook complained to former interim Fire Chief Ronnie Villanueva about deletions and revisions in the Palisades fire after-action report.

(L.A. City Mayor’s Office)

He continued, “While I fully understand the need to address potential liability concerns and to modify certain sections in consultation with the City Attorney to mitigate litigation risks, the current version appears highly unprofessional and inconsistent with our established standards. I strongly urge you to reconsider publishing the report as it stands.”

In the email, Cook also raised concerns that the LAFD’s final report would be at odds with a report on the January wildfires commissioned by Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office, which has yet to be released.

“I am concerned that substantial disparities may exist between the two reports,” Cook wrote.

Izzy Gardon, a spokesperson for Newsom, said in a statement Tuesday, “The Governor commissioned an independent review by the world’s leading fire safety experts to ensure the public receives a complete, accurate, and unvarnished accounting of the events leading up to the Palisades fire and how responding agencies carried out their response.”

Cook — who emails show provided a final draft of the after-action report to Villanueva in August — has declined to comment. Attempts to reach Villanueva were unsuccessful.

The LAFD has refused to answer questions from The Times about the deletions and revisions. Mayor Karen Bass’ office said the LAFD wrote and edited the report, and that the mayor did not demand changes.

On Sunday, The Times reported that Cook was upset about the changes to the report. The previous day, The Times had disclosed the watering down of the after-action report after analyzing seven drafts obtained through a public records request. The most significant changes involved the LAFD’s failure to order firefighters to stay on duty for an additional shift and to fully pre-deploy engines in high-risk areas before the Jan. 7 fire, as the wind warnings became increasingly dire. It’s unclear who exactly directed the revisions.

Cook’s Oct. 8 email laying out his concerns in stark language adds to the growing evidence that city and LAFD officials attempted to burnish the LAFD’s image in a report that should have been an honest assessment of the department’s failings in preparing for and fighting the fire, which killed 12 people and destroyed thousands of homes. The goal of such a report is to prevent similar mistakes.

Cook’s email reached Bass’ office in mid-November, according to Bass spokesperson Clara Karger.

Karger said last week that “the Mayor has inquired with Chief Moore about the concerns,” referring to Jaime Moore, who became LAFD chief last month.

The Times submitted a public records request last month for all of the mayor’s emails about the after-action report, a request that the city has not yet fulfilled. Bass’ office provided Cook’s email to The Times on Tuesday.

The city had withheld Cook’s email from its response to a separate records request filed by an unknown party in October. Almost 180 of Cook’s emails were posted on the city’s records portal on Dec. 9, but the one that expressed his concerns about the report was missing. That email was only posted on the portal Tuesday, after The Times asked about it.

The LAFD did not respond to a Times query about why the email was not released with Cook’s other emails. Bass’s office also did not respond to a query about Cook’s concerns and the fact that they were withheld from the public.

Gene Cameron, who lived in the Palisades for 50 years before his home burned down in the Jan. 7 fire, was disturbed by the LAFD’s revisions, which he said amounted to a cover up.

“I appreciate his bravery to stand up against these unprofessional immoral edits,” he said of Cook, adding that the point of the report is not to assign blame, but to prevent future mistakes. “It’s just to establish a set of rules, procedures and guidelines so that this doesn’t happen again.”

City Councilmember Traci Park, whose district includes the Palisades, said in a statement Tuesday that the city can’t fix systemic failures or rebuild public trust without full transparency.

“I’ve said from the beginning that LAFD should not be investigating itself. After a disaster of this magnitude, the public deserves a full, unfiltered accounting of what went wrong and why — and my independent after-action report will provide exactly that,” she said, referring to a report she requested that the City Council approved and funded earlier this year, though it hasn’t been completed.

Genethia Hudley Hayes, president of the Board of Fire Commissioners, did not immediately respond Tuesday to a request for comment. She previously told The Times that she heard rumors that the author of the report was unhappy, but that she did not look into the matter.

A July email thread reviewed by The Times shows concern over how the after-action report would be received, with the LAFD forming a “crisis management workgroup.”

“The primary goal of this workgroup is to collaboratively manage communications for any critical public relations issue that may arise. The immediate and most pressing crisis is the Palisades After Action Report,” LAFD Asst. Chief Kairi Brown wrote in an email to eight other people.

“With significant interest from media, politicians, and the community, it is crucial that we present a unified response to anticipated questions and concerns,” Brown wrote. “By doing so, we can ensure our messaging is clear and consistent, allowing us to create our own narrative rather than reactive responses.”

Cook was not included on that email thread. It’s unclear how much of a role, if any, that group had on the revisions.

The after-action report has been widely criticized for failing to examine a New Year’s Day fire that later reignited into the Palisades fire. Bass has ordered the LAFD to commission an independent investigation into its missteps in putting out the earlier fire.

One edit to the after-action report involved language stating that the decision to not fully staff up and pre-deploy all available crews and engines ahead of the extreme wind forecast “did not align” with the department’s policy and procedures during red flag days.

The final report did not include that language, saying instead that the number of engine companies rolled out ahead of the fire “went above and beyond the standard LAFD pre-deployment matrix.”

A section on “failures” was renamed “primary challenges,” and an item saying that crews and leaders had violated national guidelines on how to avoid firefighter deaths and injuries was scratched.

Another passage that was deleted said that some crews waited more than an hour for an assignment the day of the fire.

Two drafts contain notes typed in the margins with suggestions that seemed intended to soften the report’s effect and make the Fire Department look good. One note proposed replacing the image on the cover page — which showed palm trees on fire against an orange sky — with a “positive” one, such as “firefighters on the frontline.” The final report’s cover displays the LAFD seal.

The final version listed only 42 items in the section on recommendations and lessons learned, while the first version reviewed by The Times listed 74.