The Wizard of Oz is a cheerful, delightfully composed, heart-warmingly spirited, and gorgeously visualized story about togetherness, loyalty, and bravery. Holding up even in today’s technologically advanced times, this Judy Garland-starring musical fantasy is a joyful adventure for all ages, thanks to its unwavering goodness and unshakable integrity in its search for happiness and home. There’s a good reason The Wizard of Oz has remained a classic for generations: its visual prowess and timeless themes.

One day, deep in the crop-and-cattle country of Kansas, a farm girl named Dorothy Gale (Garland) dreams of moving out of Kansas. The same day, her dog Toto (Terry) gets snatched up by a wicked neighbor, Almira Gulch (Margaret Hamilton). With little help from her Uncle Henry (Charley Grapewin), Aunt Em (Clara Blandick), and three close farmhands, she eventually gets Toto back and runs off. Succumbing to guilt after a con artist tells her of a supposed vision of Aunt Em’s heartbreak, Dorothy attempts to return home, only for glass to throw her onto her bed as a massive tornado sweeps. In her comatose state, the house tornadoes through black-and-white Kansas before crashing into the suddenly colorful Munchkinland region of the Land of Oz, a marvelous place where creatures sing their hearts out and rejoice over the littlest of pleasures—that is, when they’re not terrorized by any witches. Greeted by Glinda, the Good Witch of the North (Billie Burke), Dorothy learns of the Land of Oz and that her house actually killed Munchkinland’s captive, the Wicked Witch of the East. As the more evil Wicked Witch of the West (Hamilton) seeks her dead sister’s ruby slippers, Glinda puts them on Dorothy before the witch gets the chance, prompting the wicked green wretch to promise vengeance on Dorothy. Glinda instructs Dorothy to follow the Yellow Brick Road to Emerald City, where the Wizard of Oz (Frank Morgan) himself will transport her back—starting a journey of laughs, fear, friendship, and self-esteem boosts in the wonderfully mysterious Land of Oz as Dorothy meets new friends Tin Man (Jack Haley), Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr), and Scarecrow (Ray Bolger).

There’s not much to add to Victor Fleming’s power-, time-, and money-consuming production of The Wizard of Oz that hasn’t already been said over many decades. Performances are wonderful, whether talking about Garland’s heartily exaggerated take as the kiddishly naive Dorothy or Hamilton’s whinily charismatic portrayal of the Wicked Witch of the West; every central character changes with the Yellow Brick Road’s twists and turns, driving Oz’s primary themes of loyalty, self-discovery, compassion, and friendship with memorable figures with which to relate; from the dazzling color grading and the grandly scaled tornado sequence to the still-convincing costumes—despite the burns Hamilton experienced, the hospitalizing effects Tin Man’s original actor Buddy Ebsen suffered from inhaling his early-design costume’s aluminum dust, and any other costume/appearance-related abuses that arose—Oz is a visual bonanza; the score both further drives Oz’s boisterous wonder and acts as significant character moments—the score acts as an exposition dump replacement). While some moments feel more forced than others, The Wizard of Oz remains a timeless classic that just about anyone could enjoy as Dorothy eventually learns, “Oh, Auntie Em, there’s no place like home!”

Friends are easy to get, but ones who become family are few and far between. Many aren’t lucky enough to ever have one; they go through life with, at best, fair-weather acquaintances who can have fun and nothing else. In these darkened sociopolitical times—where our lives feel uncertain as wars ravage unabated, the rich and powerful now openly detain, disappear, and even kill, cost of living prices continue skyrocketing, and social ties get purposefully blurred to further divide the masses based on pointless, mostly uncontrollable factors like race, gender, orientation or religion to distract from billionaires’ thievery—true loyalty, compassion, and platonic companionship are vital elements of the human condition to remember and actively strive for. Against the vile Wicked Witch, home being where the heart is is not the only lesson for Dorothy and her friends to learn; they learn that, through each other and with each other, they’re both more capable as individuals and together than they initially think. Without Dorothy, Cowardly Lion wouldn’t have needed to stand up to anybody, as hiding in the shadows with nothing and no one to care about is easy; for Tin Man, he wouldn’t have learned how much he can care for others; for Scarecrow, he wouldn’t have had to think had Dorothy’s quest didn’t need constant plans; and for Dorothy, she wouldn’t have made it home without the help of her newfound friends. The Wizard of Oz is thus contemporary in its demonstration of friendship’s near-limitless benefits for the soul—an optimistic element of life easily forgettable in these trying times when we need to band together the most. Our Wicked Witch cannot melt from water, but resistance is doable, as Dorothy and co. so wonderfully show in this dazzling rendition of L. Frank Baum’s 1900 novel, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. For fantasy fans, kids and all-ages children’s flick enthusiasts, Judy Garland diehards, musical lovers, and those in need of hope, The Wizard of Oz is a delightful, stolidly vibrant, and magically displayed dream sequence of good, evil, and friends, even in the bits that feel more like filler.

Screens Friday, 2/20, 2:45 p.m. & 7:30 p.m. @ Somerville Theatre
Double Feature w/ The Bad Seed
Co-presented by ScreenBoston