You remember the ruby slippers. Of course you do. But if you grew up in the early nineties, there’s a good chance your version of Dorothy didn't just walk down a yellow brick road—she clicked those heels to warp through the air like a localized teleporter. We’re talking about the 1990 Wizard of Oz cartoon produced by DIC Animation City. It only lasted thirteen episodes. Just thirteen. Yet, for a specific pocket of Gen X and Millennials, it defines the Land of Oz more than the 1939 MGM masterpiece ever could.
It was weird.
Actually, it was beyond weird. It was a Saturday morning psychedelic trip that tried to bridge the gap between L. Frank Baum’s original books and the iconic movie visuals everyone recognizes. It had the flying monkeys. It had the green skin. But it also had a ghost. Literally, the Cowardly Lion was haunted by the ghost of his own courage? No, wait, he was looking for his "inner king." The details get fuzzy because the show was a frantic, colorful blur of 1990s syndication energy.
The Wizard of Oz Cartoon: A Failed Masterpiece or Just Pure Chaos?
Most people think the animated history of Oz starts and ends with some obscure anime or the Tom and Jerry crossover movies. They’re wrong. The 1990 series was a massive deal because it was a direct "sequel" of sorts to the movie. Or at least, it wanted you to think so. It used the physical likenesses of the 1939 cast—within legal limits, obviously—and even brought back the Wicked Witch of the West.
How? Magic.
In the pilot episode, "The Rescue of the Emerald City," the Winged Monkeys fly into the ruins of the Witch’s castle and use a magic fan to blow her ashes back into a physical form. She’s back. She’s mad. And she immediately conquers the Emerald City, turning the Wizard's hot air balloon into a prison. Dorothy has to return from Kansas, find her old friends, and start a revolution. It’s basically Red Dawn but with more munchkins and a talking Scarecrow who is surprisingly good at physics.
The voice acting was actually top-tier for the era. You had Charlie Adler—the guy who voiced Buster Bunny and Starscream—playing the Scarecrow. He gave the character this frantic, high-pitched neuroticism that worked perfectly for a guy made of straw. Then there was Frank Welker. If you’ve watched a cartoon in the last forty years, you’ve heard Frank. He did the Cowardly Lion, making him sound less like Bert Lahr and more like a vibrating pile of anxiety.
Why the Ruby Slippers Changed Everything
If you’re a purist, the 1990 Wizard of Oz cartoon probably makes your eye twitch. In the books, the shoes are silver. In the movie, they’re ruby. In this show, they are essentially a Swiss Army Knife for the plot. Dorothy doesn't just wear them; she uses them to solve every single problem.
🔗 Read more: Jack Blocker American Idol Journey: What Most People Get Wrong
Need to fly? Tap the heels.
Need to see the future? Look into the sequins.
Need to blast a hole through a wall? Magic shoe laser.
It was a blatant attempt to make the brand "action-oriented" for a Saturday morning audience that was currently obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and X-Men. The showrunners knew they couldn't just have a girl wandering through a forest for twenty-two minutes. They needed stakes. They needed a ticking clock. So, they gave the Wicked Witch a "Dread Detector" and turned the quest into a series of tactical strikes against her occupation of the capital.
It’s honestly kind of brilliant in a cynical, toy-driven way. Except they never really made the toys. A missed opportunity.
The Anime Influence You Never Noticed
Before the DIC series, there was the 1986 Japanese adaptation. This is the one people usually confuse with the 90s version. This 52-episode behemoth, often referred to as the "Cinar" version in North America, followed the books much more closely. It covered The Marvelous Land of Oz, Ozma of Oz, and The Emerald City of Oz.
If the 1990 show was an American action flick, the 1986 version was a sprawling epic. It introduced Tip, the boy who turns out to be Princess Ozma. It had the Mombi the Witch—who is terrifying, by the way—and the Gump, a flying creature made out of sofas and a palm tree. For kids in the 80s, this was a gateway drug into high fantasy. It didn't have the "movie" look, which made it feel more authentic to the original illustrations by W.W. Denslow and John R. Neill.
The difference in tone is jarring.
1986: Philosophical, slightly melancholy, focused on identity and destiny.
1990: "Oh no, the Witch has a giant magnet! Use the shoes, Dorothy!"
Both are valid. Both are Oz. But they represent a massive divide in how we consume "classic" stories. Do we want a faithful adaptation of the literature, or do we want a continuation of the pop-culture brand? History shows we usually pick the brand, but the 1986 anime remains a cult favorite for a reason. It captured the weirdness of Baum’s mind.
💡 You might also like: Why American Beauty by the Grateful Dead is Still the Gold Standard of Americana
What Really Happened to the DIC Series?
Thirteen episodes. That’s it. One season.
It aired on ABC, and then it just... stopped. Usually, when a show based on a billion-dollar IP fails that fast, it's because of a rights issue or a total collapse in ratings. For the Wizard of Oz cartoon, it was a bit of both. The 1939 movie is a legal minefield. Warner Bros. owns the movie elements (the ruby slippers, the green skin), but the books are public domain. DIC had to walk a razor-thin line to keep the show looking like the movie without getting sued into oblivion.
Also, the competition was brutal. 1990 was the year of Tiny Toon Adventures and Captain Planet. A show about a girl in a gingham dress, even with magic laser shoes, struggled to find its footing against the "extreme" marketing of the new decade.
But here is the thing: the animation was actually good. Not just "good for the 90s," but genuinely fluid. The backgrounds were lush. The Emerald City looked like a futuristic Art Deco dreamscape. It felt expensive. Maybe that’s why it died—it cost too much to produce for the return it was getting.
The Weirdest Villains You Forgot
We have to talk about the Truckle.
In the 1990 cartoon, the Wicked Witch had a sidekick. He was a tiny, winged monkey-type creature named Truckle. He was basically her punching bag. He wore a little vest. He had a voice like a raspy toad. He represented that classic 90s trope of the "incompetent henchman" (see: Bebop and Rocksteady, Starscream, Bulk and Skull).
But the show also introduced villains like the Time Weever and the Growleywogs. These were deep cuts from the books that most casual fans had never heard of. It showed that the writers actually cared about the source material. They were trying to weave the 1939 film's aesthetic with the deep lore of the fourteen original novels. It was a massive undertaking for a twenty-two-minute cartoon.
📖 Related: Why October London Make Me Wanna Is the Soul Revival We Actually Needed
How to Watch It Today (If You Can Find It)
Finding the 1990 Wizard of Oz cartoon is a bit of a treasure hunt. It isn't sitting pretty on Disney+ or Max. Because of the complicated web of rights between DIC (now owned by WildBrain), Turner Entertainment, and Warner Bros., it often falls through the cracks.
- Check YouTube: Fans have uploaded low-quality VHS rips. It’s grainy, it has 1991 toy commercials embedded in it, and it is the absolute best way to experience it.
- DVD Sets: There was a "complete series" DVD released in the mid-2000s. It’s out of print, but you can find it on eBay for a decent price if you're a collector.
- The 1986 Anime: This one is much easier to find and is often streaming on various free services like Tubi or YouTube’s "Free with Ads" section.
The Actionable Legacy of Oz Animation
If you’re a fan of animation or Oz, there are a few things you should actually do rather than just feel nostalgic. First, go watch the "Rescue of the Emerald City" pilot. It’s a masterclass in how to reboot a franchise without losing its soul. It respects the 1939 film while acknowledging that the world has moved on.
Second, if you have kids, show them the 1986 anime version first. It builds a foundation for the "real" Oz—the one where things are a bit darker, more complex, and less reliant on Kansas. The 1990 version is great for a laugh and some 90s "tude," but the anime is art.
Finally, look at the credits of these shows. You’ll see names like Paul Dini—the guy who basically created Batman: The Animated Series. Understanding that these "silly" cartoons were built by the giants of the industry changes how you see them. They weren't just filler; they were experiments in world-building that paved the way for the golden age of animation in the late 90s.
The Wizard of Oz cartoon didn't fail because it was bad. It failed because it was ahead of its time. It tried to build a cinematic universe before that was a thing. It tried to merge different canons before "multiverses" were a box-office staple. It’s a fascinating relic of a time when we weren't afraid to take a classic story and give it a magic laser shoe upgrade.
If you want to dive deeper into the history of Oz on screen, your next step is to track down the 1985 live-action film Return to Oz. It’s not a cartoon, but it shares that same "fever dream" DNA and will give you a much better appreciation for why the 1990 animated series chose the tone it did. Seeing the Wheelers in live-action makes a cartoon witch seem downright cuddly. Afterward, compare the character designs of the Scarecrow across all three—you’ll see exactly how the 1990 series tried to split the difference between horror and heart.