Magic Leap headset test: Off your phone, into your world
The Magic Leap One Creator Edition impresses but has yet to live up to the hype
There he is, the size of a Candy Land piece, right on the ottoman in front of me: teeny, tiny LeBron James. He jets down the Golden State Warriors’ court—sitting flush on the chocolate leather— and dunks in a hoop the size of my wedding band.
No, I haven’t had a psychedelic sandwich for lunch. I’ve just been wearing what looks like a pair of oversize swim goggles, attached to a Discman thingy on my hip— the Magic Leap One Creator Edition.
These augmented-reality goggles put virtual objects in the real world, unlike virtual-reality goggles, which block it out. Think “Pokémon Go” but far more realistic and potentially useful.
If you haven’t been following Silicon Valley’s mounting interest in AR, it’s time. Microsoft’s HoloLens headset is starting to pick up steam in enterprise applications. Apple has big plans in the space. And Magic Leap, while a no-name to most, has received nutty amounts of cash, and a lot of buzz in the tech community. Since 2011, the company has raised over $2.3 billion—including funds from Google and AT&T—on the promise of its mysterious “Lightfield” technology.
And yet there’s been no product, until now. Starting Wednesday, the company begins selling the $2,295 One Creator Edition.
When the company invited me last month to its headquarters in Plantation, Fla., to test it out, I was skeptical. Then I put the contraption on. I don’t suggest anyone run out to buy one— maybe not for years. But, oh boy, was it an inspiring glimpse at the future of our interaction with technology, and each other.
I feel bad shooting the robots. On the other hand, these guys just broke through the white wall I was looking at. I block some of their shots with my left hand and use the laser gun in my right to fire back.
Given all the gear I have on— Darth Vader visits the optometrist—shouldn’t these robots be scared of me? These are the pieces of hardware that allow me to see and interact with them: The goofy goggles. What you and I would call a lens, Magic Leap calls a “photonic chip” because of all the custom electronics inside that power the special Lightfield sauce. Magic Leap’s Chief Executive Rony Abovitz spent an hour explaining the physics behind them.
Here’s the summary: The Lightwear goggles generate digital light at different depths, and send slightly different pictures to each eye, mimicking the way light from the world hits our eyeballs. Unlike an AR app on a phone, which superimposes digital images onto a digital video of your surroundings, these glasses add digital objects to your view of the real world.
The Lightwear glasses make digital objects sometimes look so real that they play tricks on your mind. I certainly didn’t think the flying robot I placed in the corner was genuine, yet the steam coming out of his jets looked like it was from a tea kettle. During one demo, I picked up an actual chess piece just to confirm it wasn’t another illusion.
What makes Magic Leap’s objects so believable is how they fit into our world. Cameras and other sensors in the headset scan surrounding objects and surfaces—from your arms to the chair’s armrest. When I placed a virtual orange fish between two actual couch pillows, it swam back and forth between them.
While not as restrictive as Microsoft’s HoloLens, the Lightwear has a limited field of view that constrains the experience. Some objects appeared cut off unless I turned my head or took a few steps back. Mr. Abovitz says this will be improved in Magic Leap Two.
The fanny pack. A cable down the back of the goggles connects to a circular, hip-worn Lightpack minicomputer. It has all the parts—processor, memory, battery—to power the headset for up to three hours on a charge.
While I looked like a one-string marionette, and the pack got warm after a bit, it was certainly preferable to wearing all of those components on my face. The 0.7-pound Lightwear headset is a little more than half the weight of Microsoft’s chunky, self-contained HoloLens. Plus, the soft pads lining the headset make it comfortable. Even after 45 minutes, I felt fine—no snorkel-mask imprints or VR-like nausea.
The hand-held control. While the headset’s cameras allow you to use your hands to push, block and move some digital objects, the controller lets you select different apps in the main menu, move objects to different parts of the room and resize items. (Oh, and shoot robots.) Some apps support voice commands. There are two speakers inside the headset to add 3-D audio to the visual illusions.
The web browser is as big as a classroom chalkboard. I hang it on the wall so I can come back to it later. I open a new window in the center of the room and select Wayfair. I click on a red armchair and drag it into the room. I place it next to the real ottoman, walk around it to get a good look. Nah, I wouldn’t buy it. Similar to the smartphone revolution, AR will be only as good as its apps. I found many of Magic Leap’s technically impressive demos to be little more than a novelty.
Take “Tonandi.” Set to music from Sigur Rós, the app sprouts neon grass that responds to the wave of my hand because… real grass has lost its luster?
But seeing furniture right in my living room before I decide to hit purchase? Watching the World Cup in a stadium in the middle of my basement? Seeing a hologram of my son as he learns to walk? Sign me up.
Some apps Magic Leap has already made, or is working on with partners, do show how realistic these experiences can be. Others don’t exist yet—hence a headset built for creators.
The NBA Preview app, featuring that LeBron James fast break, made it easy to imagine watching news, entertainment or sporting events in completely new ways. Magic Leap’s spatial web browser will let developers share 3-D models that you can drag and drop into your own environment.
When I answer an incoming call, a Magic Leap employee pops up in front of me, but he doesn’t sit still. In fact, he paces around the room. His avatar has a luxuriant Tom Selleck ’stache, but no arms or legs. When I point that out, he seems rankled, but we still chat for a bit before he vanishes.
It’s easy to look at the One Creator Edition and see just a dorky headset, but squint a bit more and you’ll see what it really is: a personal computer, similar to the Apple I or the IBM PC. And like those, Mr. Abovitz says every generation of the headset will get smaller and more powerful.
Magic Leap is attempting to build the computer and operating system that comes after our laptops, smartphones and TVs. It’s a bold, exciting, petrifying vision of the future. While the company already faces mega competition, my experience with the One Creator leaves me thinking we shouldn’t count the crazy Florida startup out.
Only developers should buy these glasses, but should you try them out? Definitely. Magic Leap plans to launch pop-up stores and demo spaces in various cities in coming months. You’ll be able to see the future—and by future, I mean a world where we can accidentally trip over tiny LeBrons.