Good News and Rejoicify! ‘Wicked’ Ascends as a Monumental Musical Spectacle

The Wicked Witch of the West has been a part of cinematic iconography for a solid 85 years. I remember when the witch terrified me so much as a kid that I had to run from the room and hide behind the edge of the doorframe until it was safe to take my seat again.

When Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, was released in the mid-90’s, it was regarded as a creative outlet to explore the themes of good versus evil before it was adapted into the musical behemoth that has dominated Broadway for over twenty years. With all of that pressure on its bubbly, Ozified shoulders, how does a film adaptation (or at least the first half of one) hold up to alllll that expectation? Good news Ozians and doubters alike! John M. Chu’s Wicked is a spectacular feat–a musical that embraces its own identity and delivers with pure stage-loving pageantry.

When Wicked begins, Dorothy has already tossed a bucket of water onto the Wicked Witch and all of Oz is celebrating in joyous relief as Glinda floats down from her wobbly bubble. Embodied by Ariana Grande, this Glinda is measured as a public figure but she still retains that unpredictable, exuberant verve that we will come to love when we flash back. Before she departs, a citizen of Oz asks her quite plainly, “Is it true that you were her friend?” The crowd murmurs and whispers–it’s almost as if they were checking Glinda’s Instagram followers to make sure she wasn’t following anyone problematic–before she admits that their paths crossed at Shiz University.

The waterfront magical institution is buzzing as students gather for a new term, and Grande’s Glinda arrives with enough suitcases and trunks to construct another Shiz wing for herself. Cynthia Erivo’s green-hued Elphaba accompanies her sister, Nessarose, but ends up enrolling when her strong powers cause a commotion and catches the eye of Madame Morrible, Headmistress and ambassador or all things Ozian. Since Glinda is desperate to get into the good graces of Morrible herself, Glinda doesn’t object when she accidentally volunteers to room with Shiz’s most mysterious, and unreasonably feared, new student.

When Glinda and Elphaba begin to get closer, Chu’s film fuses forward into something gentler and less concerned with establishing its astonishing world. Elphaba has never had to stand up on her own outside of her strained relationship with her father, and Erivo gives her a straighter back and steady gaze as Elphaba becomes more confident. Grande leans into the Glinda’s shallowness but she gives her an awareness of her lack of magical prowess–something Glinda admits is her own heart’s desire. With every enthusiastic hair toss, Grande is unapologetically vapid, but you love her for it as she hurls herself around. It’s almost as if she is throwing herself into the next frame before Chu can even turn the camera in her direction. Glinda is a character who knows the popular power and influence she wields but doesn’t pay attention to the hurt that comes in her wake until another person is sleeping a few feet away from her. When Grande’s confidence falters, it shades her Glinda with hurt and insecurity. As if this film’s press tour hasn’t told you, Erivo and Grande make an incredible pair.

With every musical adaptation that hits the big screen, there is always the question of how it is chopped up to appeal to a wider audience, but Wicked doesn’t do that. Chu invites audiences to understand what a movie musical can be. No songs from the original first act are cut or given to other characters. This is a musical lover’s musical–be not afraid directors!

And what about those musical numbers? “Dancing Through Life,” sung impressively by Jonathan Bailey’s Fiyero, has always been my favorite song from the first half, but Bailey’s performance throughout this part one is swoon-worthy. He flirts with everyone at Shiz so much that you feel ready for him to turn his eye on you right through the screen. His assured cockiness doesn’t cozy up to bullying and hints at some hurt underneath his swarthiness. When Chu continues “Dancing” at the “most swankified place in town,” we see Glinda step up to befriend her roommate. “One Short Day” is bright and enthusiastic and appeals to the enthusiasm of youthful excitement, and Erivo’s “I’m Not That Girl” carries the heavy weight of fresh heartbreak. Expect “Popular” to be played on repeat…everywhere.

“Defying Gravity,” the act one and part one closer, is the most expanded-upon sequence. Erivo’s voice opens up to its full power, and her vocalizations swirl around you as if it is being whipped around on its first flight on a steady broomstick. The finale reaches an emotional pitch that the medium of film has an advantage of over a stage production as Chu shows the moment when Elphaba puts herself first and decides to embrace the monikers being placed on her. There is a wide shot of Elphaba alone on her broom as she looks at those standing against her that says so much. She has power while others have their feet planted on the ground–she could catch herself if she fell from an enormous height because she has had to do it her entire life. Paul Tazewell’s costumes and Noah Crowley’s production design have created more texture than any other film this year. They feel like extensions from the 1939 original film but are so present and alive.

The musical Wicked has always wanted us to celebrate how our differences make us stronger, and I am curious how audiences will embrace that way of thinking as we enter an emotionally-frought holiday season. Underneath the pink and green (they do go together, after all), the bubbles and brooms, and wizardry of it all, there are heavy themes breaking through. Literal speech is being stripped away from vulnerable characters and others feel compelled to flee their homes for their safety. I admit that I have a fraught relationship with the Stephen Schwartz musical (just because I was studying theater when it obliterated Broadway upon its opening), but Wicked might be arriving at an unpredicably perfect time.

Goodness knows that we could all use a little musical distraction right now, and to convert the naysayers might be the most magical thing of all.

Wicked is now playing in theaters.