Overwhelmed with magic and myth and Ozian politics, Wicked is a splendor of theatrics, a superbly-acted and even more impressively sung movie musical that both does right by the stage musical and delves into the wonder of the original tale. This adaptation is an infamously challenging task, one postponed year after year and tossed from director to director, but it seems the theatrical, blockbuster chops of Jon M. Chu (proven also in In The Heights and Crazy Rich Asians) have finally done it justice, and it was absolutely worth the wait.
Even more fascinating to me was how the musical itself came to be; how Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman were able to distill an ambitious and rich, yet overwrought and dense novel that retold the classic tale of The Wizard of Oz into a musical adaptation that stunned Broadway fanatics from the moment the delightful overture begun. Wicked contains so much depth, and the confluence of adaptations and storytelling seem to prove that. I’m overwhelmingly delighted by the homage Wicked pays to that, its pure love and respect for the story are what made the film so impactful to me (not to mention the performances and the songs and the costume design and nearly everything else). And the thing that impressed me most about Jon M. Chu’s adaptation is how fascinated it seems to be by its story, by the power of the retelling and all the rich, incisive analysis it provides. Wicked is tragic, downright hilarious, political, bewildering, and occasionally cheesy, but above all – Wicked is a love story.
The tragedy and platonic romance between bookish, biologically green Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo) and the bubbly, fashionable Galinda Upland (Ariana Grande) has become, at least to theater or Glee-loving audiences, as iconic as the The Wizard of Oz itself. The story opens with the Wicked Witch’s infamous black hat, lonely and desolate in the puddle of water it sits in – this is what we know of Elphaba, one-dimensionality that sees her uncanny green skin and long fingernails as a sign of unmistakable evil. But Glinda the Good’s entrance, in her glimmering bubble and pink magic wand, offers to tell us (or rather, a curious munchkin) the whole story, narrating the history of the girls that they both were, before the politics, propaganda, and raucous weather of Oz took over their lives.
Glinda’s singing in “No One Mourns The Wicked,” the incredible opening number, illustrates that, amidst all the celebration and relief the people of Oz feel, she carries a deep sense of melancholy; she poses as a leader delighted at the news, but underneath the melodies, she mourns her best friend. It is the unlikely friendship sprung out of a roommate rivalry, defined by slow unravelings of initial prejudices and moments of kindness and empathy, despite the social structures that sought to separate the women from the start. There is a love triangle of sorts, involving the charming prince Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), but the emotional core of the film is the love Elphaba and Glinda have for each other. Tensions rise throughout Oz in debates of animal rights, and the growing suppression of the ability of animals to speak and teach. Elphaba becomes intensely passionate on the side of the animals, particularly through her professor Dr. Dillamond (Peter Dinklage) who happens to be a goat, and struggles to balance her personal ambitions with her sense of righteousness. Situated in this tumultuous political era of Oz and the terrifying, overarching facade of power, but the story is truly about two girls who are polar opposites, and the ways their love for one another has shaped their lives.
The release of Wicked feels inextricable from the intense press junket that has accompanied it – tearful interviews, mentions of matching tattoos, outrageous marketing campaigns, and internet backlash, to name a few. But despite all the so-called controversy that has been ignited, Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande have delightful chemistry, in both their acting and singing performances. Their voices blend marvelously, and their comedic moments are as poignant as their earnest, emotional scenes. The theatrical experience helmed by the majority of the lead cast does not go to waste, with choreography that utilizes the phenomenal soundtrack and ensemble capabilities of a film adaptation. “Dancing Through Life” has some marvelous moments, and Bailey is especially brilliant to watch. The choreography alongside the creative costume and set design is most evident in “One Short Day,” which also features a couple great cameos. The Emerald City is a marvelous depiction of the facade it hides, as are the moments with the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum). Both Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) and the Wizard aren’t as musical as the other roles, and end up feeling more iconographic than anything else, but their representation of the glimmering facade is still effective. Grande is hilarious and endearing in “Popular,” (though she is funny in nearly every line delivery) and though I’d find it impossible to top the stage version of “Defying Gravity,” and the awe of seeing Elphaba flying in the air, Grande and Erivo’s vocal chemistry still make it a showstopper.
The Wizard of Oz is famous and infamous in so many ways – production details are riddled with awful controversy, the film is remembered and honored beyond belief, and the storytelling of it has structured so many popular films in decades and centuries after. It is beautiful, and it is horrifying. In its cultural influence, The Wizard of Oz carries the conflict that Wicked holds so dear, of how closely interlinked concepts of good and evil are, and what it looks like to wear the facade of either. This central mediation of the film is a debate that first sprung the idea of a revisionist prequel novel to Gregory Maguire’s fascinating brain, and it echoes strongly throughout the film. The chemistry between Erivo and Grande swells with so much heart in the middle of “Dancing Through Life,” when Glinda is struck with a true understanding of Elphaba’s humanity, shattering the shallow preconceptions she had previously subscribed to. She breaks out of the facade she wears, one built by tight social norms and classist notions, and forges a connection with Elphaba. Erivo’s Elphaba is excellent, vulnerable and sweet with the most show stopping voice imaginable. And in true Galinda/Glinda fashion, Grande often steals the show – though again, the chemistry between the two is what really buoys the film.
Chu’s directorial skills are on full display as he skillfully maximizes the capabilities of cinema; in combination with the mechanics and physicality of Ozian structures and style, Wicked is a visual marvel. “What Is This Feeling?” particularly capitalizes on this, told dramatically with a split screen and hilarious theatrics by Erivo and Grande. Though the technicolor splendor that characterized The Wizard of Oz leaves some warmth to be desired in the occasionally muted colors of Wicked, the film is still stunning. Oz is slightly more dim at times, but still designed as fantastical and campy as the stage musical, particularly in the Emerald City. The style – in the production and costume design – pays homage to the technicality and majestic quality of the stage musical, as well as the colorful fantasy of the original film, indulging fully into the creative realm that another filmic interpretation of Oz has to offer.
In all its unlimited ambition, Wicked still has its moments of imperfection. Clips that went viral on Twitter for their lack of color are similarly lackluster on the big screen, though there are other delicious moments that more than make up for it. “I’m Not That Girl” in particular plays more cheesily and lacks the depth that the song, in its soliloquy-like essence, requires to be effective. The CGI animals definitely were not the most visually stunning part, though they could have been a lot worse. Moreover, the animal element of Wicked is essential, and it makes the story as goofy as it is poignant. A film adaptation of Wicked is a daunting task, but even in its more off-kilter moments, the heart of the film never wavers, which is what made the film so effective and incredible to me. Wicked is a celebration of blockbuster extravagance, it combines the dramatic flair and quippy humor of the stage musical into a lush, fantastical film that honors its predecessors and contributes to a new generation of movie musical filmmaking. The story of Wicked is a product of adaptation tradition, and of creative risk that never lost sight of the magic that made the original tale of Oz so thrilling and wondrous.
Wicked
2024
dir. John M. Chu
160 min.
Opens Friday, 11/22 in theaters everywhere
