That spot did not go over well with many fliers, who voiced their disagreement on social media (it’s unclear that getting gussied up would solve the upset caused by delayed flights, increasingly tiny seats and other flying indignities). But it was merely a warm-up for the longer show, which has its debut next month on YouTube. This one features Duffy in a whole variety of dad outfits straight from the “Father Knows Best” closet of the American mind, with his family as supporting characters, down to their matching PJs.

There he is in the Oval Office, introducing his kids (and the show’s concept) to President Trump as white-collar dad in a Trumpian outfit of blue suit, white shirt and red-and-blue tie. There he is in snowy Montana, leading his gang on snowmobiles in coordinated snowsuits. In Philadelphia, he’s in a polo shirt and jeans, introducing his children to a role-playing Benjamin Franklin. He hangs out in a plaid shirt with Kid Rock, a scene that also features Duffy’s wife, Rachel Campos-Duffy, a Fox anchor, in an American flag sweater and matching American flag cowboy boots. (The two met on the reality show “Road Rules: All Stars.”) He wears a lot of shackets. And that’s just in the show’s four-minute promo.

In other words, this does not seem to be in the mode of the storied road trips of American pop-culture mythology, be they the grungy road trip of Peter Fonda and Jack Nicholson in “Easy Rider” or the existential one of Chloé Zhao’s Oscar winner “Nomadland.” It does not even seem to be modeled on the gaffe-filled comic road trip of the Griswold clan in “National Lampoon’s Vacation.”

It’s more like “Road Trip: The Suburban Nostalgia Version.” (See the cars, which include throwback station wagons redolent of “Leave It to Beaver” and a big, black Toyota SUV with Duffy, of course, in the driver’s seat.) It was conceived, presumably, to evoke the values — “wholesome,” “patriotic,” “joyful” — enumerated by Duffy in his post on X and meant to define the show and, by association, himself.

As such, it effectively brands him as the Everydad of the administration, complete with ur-weekend wardrobe. And when it finally airs next month, it may turn out to be less about actual reality (reality TV rarely is) than about heavily messaged reality. In other words: marketing for history.

A pivotal moment early in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” arrives when Harry’s suburban house is swarmed and flooded with letters of acceptance for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry’s aunt and uncle have been preventing such dispatches from reaching the young wizard-to-be, but the boarding school’s messenger owls are having none of it.

Letters flood in from the fireplace, windows and nearly seem to cause the house to burst. And while watching the film recently at Inglewood’s Cosm, home to an all-encompassing high-definition spherical screen, I half expected a letter to fall upon my lap. Cosm specializes in sports, but has released three collaborations with Warner Bros. for what it deems “experiential film.” A framed screen displaying the original 2001 work from director Chris Columbus is untouched, but surrounding it are newly added digital animations designed to envelop guests.

And in this early “Sorcerer’s Stone” scene, letters were a-flying any which way I looked. Up, down, left and right — mail missives were rocketing toward the center screen. As the world closed in on Daniel Radcliffe’s Potter and family, it did so, too, at Cosm. I’ve seen Cosm’s take on “The Matrix” and “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” so I knew a letter wouldn’t come zapping my way, but one could be forgiven for protecting their cocktail — themed, of course — from being knocked over.

Such is the power of Cosm’s curved screen, which brings a sense of dimension, and even at times movement, to the film. Think of Cosm, perhaps, as a mini version of Las Vegas’ Sphere, but smaller doesn’t mean any less sweeping. No, “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” in Cosm’s hands is often quite grand, as the first glimpse of Hogwarts Castle inspired cheers from the opening night audience, its cliffside towers, a romanticized spin on medieval architecture, towering above us in such a way that we will crane our necks. Only in Universal’s theme parks does the palace seem more real and welcoming.

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” arrives at Cosm during what is a big year for the franchise. It’s the 25th anniversary, of course, of the first film in the series, and later this year on Christmas Day a new television series based on author J.K. Rowling’s popular book series is set to premiere on HBO Max. This summer, Harry Potter: A Hogwarts Express Adventure will open at the Southern California Railway Museum for guests to experience the Wizarding World rite of passage aboard a real moving train in the Inland Empire.

All of this activity is happening as Rowling has become the center of heated debate for her controversial views on trans women. None of it, however, has seemed to curtail fan interest in the series. The 2023 video game “Hogwarts Legacy” became a massive hit despite calls for a boycott, and Universal Studios last year opened in Florida a brand new theme park land based upon the franchise at its Epic Universe park, with its centerpiece ride, Harry Potter and the Battle at the Ministry, often commanding some of the longest waits at the park.

At the film’s early May premiere at Cosm, Rowling was mentioned little, and wasn’t among the massive list of names being thanked by studio and Cosm execs. “Harry Potter” in 2026 is perhaps best viewed as a franchise that has outgrown its creator to take on a life of its own, and Cosm’s approach is that of a love letter to its many fans, recognizing that this is a magical, enchanting world that generations have long wished to find themselves immersed in.

A climatic scene in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” is outfitted with additional effects at Cosm.

(Stefan Silvers / Cosm)

To that end, I’d rank “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” as the most successful of Cosm’s three cinematic interpretations. Certainly the subject matter plays a role, and while Cosm has been successful in matching the high-energy of “The Matrix” or the trippiness of “Willy Wonka,” here Cosm and its partners — experiential firm Little Cinema and effects house MakeMake — can simply luxuriate in atmosphere. The train to Hogwarts, for instance, is especially well done, seemingly stretched to infinity. The famed “sorting hat” scene, too, as Cosm’s wizards contrast the internal anxiety of being assigned a role with the external one of doing so in front of an audience, bringing to exaggerated life the cavernous Hogwarts assembly hall.

Cosm works best when it’s able to use its venue to create the illusion of no longer being a spectator, when the space itself starts to feel like a living theater. Feel this, for instance, when Harry and pals traverse the moving staircase. The frame of the screen may move, creating a slight sense of disorientation as the stairs themselves shift. The portraits on the wall, whose characters occasionally come alive, start to envelop us. Cosm used some restraint here, keeping us guessing as to which framed pictures may seek to speak or nod our way.

If there’s any qualm in Cosm’s work it’s that at times there could be a tinge more self-control in order to let the film do its work. Stepping into the hidden magic nook of London’s Diagon Alley is a showcase moment in Columbus’ film, and at times it is in Cosm’s interpretation as well. Out on the street, the shops circle around us, further conveying the cramped nature of the neighborhood. It feels, more than ever, like a real-life space. Inside an intimate pub, however, filling out the scene with empty tables could distract from the hurried, nervous nature of the filmmaker’s original intent.

But we live in an immersive age. Art, increasingly, is maximized to encompass us, and Cosm understands this moment well. Once again, the venue has made the argument that cinema can feel like communal, live entertainment.