After becoming a smash hit—and playing on Broadway now for over two decades—it would have been easy to make a rushed, condensed version of Wicked that failed to live up to the Tony-winning hype of its show counterpart. I still remember hearing about the concept for the first time when I was in high school. Think: The Wizard of Oz, only retold from the Wicked Witch’s point of view, with Dorothy and the Wizard as the bad guys. My mom saw it with some girlfriends in the city, and came back raving about how much I would adore it. As an Oz-obsessed youth, seeing this show on Broadway became everything to me. It wasn’t until 2006 that I ended up going, and it was everything I had hoped. Wicked was my Hamilton. All these years later, Elphaba has still stayed in the pop culture conversation; the possibility of a movie adaptation constantly fleeted in and out of existence. At long last, Wicked arrives on the big screen just in time for the 2024 holidays. Split into two parts, John M. Chu’s colorful extravaganza stands tall as one of the best movie musicals of the 2020s, alongside recent home-run titles West Side Story, The Color Purple, Wonka, and tick, tick… Boom! Boasting incredible vocals, visual decadence, and intimate character moments, Wicked truly may change musical cinema… for good.
From the very beginning, Wicked blurs the lines of good and evil, leaning into the grey area in between. Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? All that remains of the Wicked Witch is but a puddle and a pointy hat. Folks all around Oz celebrate her death, and Glinda (Ariana Grande, Scream Queens, Don’t Look Up), the good witch, comes down in a literal bubble to ensure Munchkinland that evil has been defeated forever. But there’s so much more to the story than that, even if “no one mourns the wicked.” This so-called “Wicked Witch” has a backstory too. At one time, she even called Glinda a friend. Following in the footsteps of so many projects before it, Wicked’s narrative is almost exclusively told in flashback. Glinda recalls this tale, a note of tragedy in her recollections. Even early on, Grande already immerses herself in the sugary sweetness of her Glinda portrayal. Her booming, operatic vocals are a surprise; despite knowing Grande has quite a vocal range, she slides into this role effortlessly.
The majority of our story takes place at Shiz University, an exclusive school where only the most worthy can enroll. An all-green Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo, Widows, Bad Times at the El Royale) makes her grand appearance to escort her wheelchair-bound sister, Nessarose (newcomer Marissa Bode), to class, at the insistence of their abrasive father. From birth, Elphaba was already ruffling feathers. Her parents were so distressed by her appearance that they cast her off; afterward, Elphaba was raised solely by animals. Even at school where she should be openly accepted, Elphaba’s otherness automatically puts her at odds with the neat and tidy folk attending the university. A few small tweaks are made here in regards to Elphaba’s admittance into Shiz, and they honestly work even better to fully form her passion for animals. Just like with the animal professor, Dr. Dillamond (Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes), people judge and disrespect Elphaba because she does not fit whatever mold they have in their heads. By deepening Elphaba’s connection to animals, this character trait has been carefully weaved in since the beginning. To no one’s surprise, Erivo’s textured voice, rich with depth, perfectly fits this fresh take on Elphaba’s character. Her rendition of “The Wizard and I” gave me those familiar full-body chills. Erivo carefully handles Elphaba’s emotional outbursts, always playing with a fire bubbling just beneath the surface. But more on that later.
Shiz University is host to a variety of unique characters, including dorky munchkin Boq (Ethan Slater, The SpongeBob Musical), Glinda’s annoying sidekicks, Pfannee (Bowen Yang, Fire Island, Dicks: The Musical) and ShenShen (Bronwyn James, Harlots, The Dig), and later, the gorgeous Prince Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey, Bridgerton, Fellow Travelers) rides in on his horse. A truly formidable professor, Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All At Once, Crazy Rich Asians), becomes a mentor to Elphaba in the ways of sorcery after observing a shocking outburst of magical talent the likes of which she has never seen before. Glinda and Elphaba’s rivalry is born when Morrible assigns Elphaba to share the suite assigned to Glinda; from here, the girls should technically be fighting over a man, a mentor, and missed opportunities. Thankfully, the script from Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox presents nuance rather than the easy target of pitting females against one another for the sake of entertainment. In “What is This Feeling?,” Chu uses split screen and creative techniques to add extravagance to the first major musical number between Elphaba and Glinda. Chu consistently integrates movement and fluidity to each song, leaning into the high energy yet allowing the more intimate, slower sequences breathing room.
The true standouts are three-fold, with Grande, Erivo, and Bailey embracing the tonal shifts with unbridled glee. Grande turns her hair flips into a second nature; when she finally gets to deliver “Popular,” the notable tune becomes a showcase of the zingy, fun side of Glinda. Fiyero has major bisexual vibes, and chemistry with every single character. Bailey’s take on “Dancing Through Life” lets the Olivier Award-winning actor unleash his sex appeal on a library full of unsuspecting Oz-ites. Erivo has probably the hardest role of the picture, especially given the acclaim of Idina Menzel’s take on Elphaba. Positioning her in this role was no mistake, as Erivo more than earns her place as a captivating Elphaba constantly on the edge of explosion. By the time we reach that huge “Defying Gravity” climax, Erivo’s passionate release rips free every ounce of her anxieties and frustrations with those around her. At its core though, this is a friendship story. If Elphaba and Glinda were not a believable duo, the whole thing would melt faster than a witch drenched in water. If anything, this version works to expand their role to an even greater extent, leading to an infinitely more satisfying and inevitably heartbreaking iteration of their bond.
There are plenty of changes in shifting from stage to screen, so let’s talk about a few of them that absolutely benefit the movie itself. The scope and scale of Oz itself probably has been given the biggest upgrade, adding a whole other epic layer to what was already present. Of course, we have seen plenty of Oz in movies such as the original Wizard of Oz, Return to Oz, Oz: The Great and Powerful, and many others, but Wicked‘s marvelous take evolves the works of L. Frank Baum and Gregory Maguire. Another positive: a runtime as long as the Broadway show just for this first “half” of the story allows for plenty of breathing room for character development. New scenes add depth to everyone’s arcs, and especially to the bold friendship between Elphaba and Glinda. In particular, an added sequence set at Ozdust Ballroom between Glinda and Elphaba feels immediately iconic. Jeff Goldblum brings a suave coolness to his portrayal of the Wizard; his sole number at least looks impressive despite clearly being the weakest tune in the show. What works less so are a couple of tweaks to Nessarose and Boq, neither of whom emerge as standouts. Perhaps their time to shine may come in the second half of the story, but they seem extraneous in a movie that mostly wastes not a second of runtime on the unnecessary.
Elphaba must learn to harness her powers for the greater good while fighting against a system that automatically finds her revolting just for her appearance. In a world where talking animals are being harassed and implored to be “seen and not heard,” how can Elphaba find her true purpose? As with the musical and the novel before it, Wicked presents so many interesting points about inclusiveness, and standing out no matter how loud one’s presence may be. Sometimes being different is okay, too. Growing up queer in the 90s and 2000s, this was a message I immediately latched onto, feeling other myself and oftentimes lost at sea. Perhaps the enduring power of Wicked lies in that message. If unwilling to stand up for one’s own morals, is fitting in really worth the trouble? This question arises again and again—despite the ominous presence of that puddle from the beginning, at least “Defying Gravity” ends this first chapter on a bold exclamation mark of hopeful defiance. Wicked captures the colorful dynamism of the Broadway show, overstuffed with plenty of easter eggs, a bubble-gum aesthetic, and a wickedly talented cast that devour their respective roles.
Follow the yellowbrick road into theaters for Wicked, arriving just in time to meet the Wizard himself on Friday, November 22nd.
