Wicked (2024)
In much the same way as Disney’s Maleficent movies, all forms of Wicked – the novel by Gregory Maguire, the Broadway musical by Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman, and now John M. Chu’s visually stunning 3D film adaptation of the musical – takes a different, more sympathetic view of a character we’ve always regarded as a villain. In this case, it’s the Wicked Witch of the West, introduced as the antagonist of the book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, immortalized by Victor Fleming in his 1939 musical movie that dropped “wonderful” from the title; she has been transformed from a clear-cut fairy tale bad guy to a young woman who was used for her talents and then demonized for discovering a terrible truth.
Her actual name, according to this alternate narrative, is Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), a play on the initials of L. Frank Baum, author of the original Oz books. She’s the result of an illegitimate affair between her mother (Courtney Mae-Briggs) and an unknown traveling salesman who, for whatever reason, involved a bottle of a green fluid the night she was conceived. As a result, she was born with green skin – as well as uncontrolled magical powers that only seem to manifest during outbursts of anger. That, coupled with a wheelchair bound younger sister Nessarose, or just plain Nessa (Marissa Bode), made Elphaba the object of scorn, especially by her mother’s husband, the Mayor (Andy Nyman), the man she believes is her father.
The plot, essentially, is the relationship between Elphaba and another established Wizard of Oz character, Galinda, later simply Glinda (Ariana Grande-Butera) during their first year of college at Shiz University. It starts, as many cinematic relationships start, as mutual loathing, only to blossom into friendship. That doesn’t mean the girls are anything alike; while Elphaba is outspoken about unfair treatment and prejudice, especially in regards to the talking animals of Oz and their diminishing rights, Glinda is a spoiled-heiress stereotype, used to always getting exactly what she wants, constantly being the center of attention, forever on the lookout for opportunities to get ahead. She too is being redefined as a character, no longer just the Good Witch of the North but a complicated mix of shallowness, ambition, and deeply buried redeeming qualities.
Elphaba’s journey towards the label of “wicked witch” involves two scheming authority figures. One is Shiz’s sorcery dean Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), who not only knows about Elphaba’s hidden magical abilities but sees the potential to use them to her advantage. The other is the Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself (Jeff Goldblum), who we all know by now is a humbug that needs special effects and animatronics to give the people of the Emerald City exactly what they expect of a god. Like Morrible, he sees Elphaba purely as a means to his own selfish ends. This manipulation and betrayal threatens the already shaky bond between Elphaba and Glinda, the latter determined to become a sorceress despite knowing the former isn’t wicked.
The story being told is only half of what was shown on stage. Indeed, the film’s on-screen title reads Wicked: Part I, automatically making the show’s most famous song, “Defying Gravity,” the film’s finale, followed by an obligatory title card reading “To be continued…” While this does allow extra time for plot advancement and character development, it leaves certain side characters in this first part with less to do than others. It also gives the false impression that they’re extraneous; if done right, Part II will show that they’re not. There’s Fiyero, Prince of the Winkie Country (Johnathan Bailey), a slacker and acrobatic ladies’ man who immediately becomes the big man on campus. There’s Boq (Ethan Slater), a short-statured Munchkin whose unreciprocated love of Glinda leads him to treat Nessa cruelly. And then there’s the talking goat Dr. Dillamond (voiced by Peter Dinklage), Shiz’s history professor; as of late, his controversial lessons have put him and all of his kind in danger.
Stephen Schwartz’s catchy songs, similarly to the songs of Andrew Lloyd Webber, walk the fine line between Broadway-style theatricality and pop hits made for mass consumption. Of course, that wouldn’t mean anything if they didn’t cast actors who could sing. No need to mention Erivo or Grande-Butera; we already know they have singing chops. As for Yeoh … I’m sorry to say her singing voice isn’t great, which I guess is why she’s given just one small verse in a single song. The effectiveness of Goldblum’s voice is debatable; some will think he can sing, while others will snub their noses at him. I would say he can carry a tune and has good vibrato, although I don’t expect his voice could carry all the way up to the balcony.
And then there’s the choreography by Christopher Scott, which evokes the heavy dance numbers of 1950s and ‘60s musical films without keeping it too old fashioned. And wait until you see architectural wonders, especially the Emerald City; production designer Nathan Crowley, who also gave his fairy-tale touch to Wonka and The Greatest Showman, creates environments that are just as whimsical and fresh as they are familiar, especially in regards to specific visuals in The Wizard of Oz. The truth is, there really isn’t much wrong with Wicked, save for the fact that, as it’s only one half of a story, it doesn’t start to get really good until the final act. In a way, that makes me question my anticipation for the second part. What if it doesn’t live up to the hype?
