In “The Wizard of Oz,” there can be no doubt which witch is the worst witch: That would be the one with the army of flying monkeys, who melts upon contact with water. But in “Wicked,” the green-skinned spell-caster turns out to be far more sympathetic than Glinda, her ostensibly “good,” oppressively pink rival. Loosely adapted from the Gregory Maguire novel of the same name, “Wicked” flips the script on one of the most beloved films of all time, offering a timeless critique of division, fascism and fear of the other that’s especially poignant in the wake of the presidential election.
When “Wicked” debuted on Broadway in 2003, Variety’s skeptical theater critic described composer Stephen Schwartz’s revisionist take on the iconic villain as “strenuous,” “lumbering” and “overstuffed.” Such withering put-downs may have felt justified in contrast with the more intimate musicals that had come before, but failed to recognize the level of ambition that could fuel such a pop-culture phenomenon, and later support a visionary big-screen upgrade every bit as rich — and Technicolor extravagant — as Dorothy’s 1939 pilgrimage over the rainbow.
For example, at the end of the first act, when Idina Menzel’s Elphaba sang the show’s defining number, “Defying Gravity,” the Broadway production gave audiences the kind of spectacle rarely seen onstage. Cinema has the power to make moments like those even more magical, and so it does in the splendiferous 160-minute first half of a two-part adaptation, which dazzles and delights in the lead-up to a yearlong intermission.
Looking back, 2003 was the same year “The Lord of the Rings” wrapped in theaters, and in Peter Jackson’s epic trilogy — as well as the subsequent “Harry Potter” and Marvel superhero franchises — director Jon M. Chu finds the model for the sweeping, CGI-enabled pageant “Wicked” was destined to be. As expanded by the show’s original author, Winnie Holzman (with “Cruella” co-writer Dana Fox also credited), the film is still garishly overstuffed, but gloriously so, as Chu embraces the maximalist style that thrills the younger generation in “live-action” Disney remakes like “Beauty and the Beast” and “The Little Mermaid.” It’s a great big wedding cake of a movie, garnished with sparklers and tinsel.
Instead of feeling bloated, “Wicked” has found its ideal form, where every frame comes crammed with the kind of detail that could easily have been distracting, had a lesser talent than Cynthia Erivo been asked to carry it. As the enchantress with the verdigris complexion, Erivo can hit the notes no problem, but it’s the work she does in close-up, conveying the emotional nuances of Elphaba’s formative years, that distinguishes this performance from Menzel’s. The latter won a Tony for playing it big, whereas Erivo’s subtler approach invites audiences under the character’s (green-tinted) skin.
Meanwhile, getting what her heart most desires, Ariana Grande steps into the Glinda role originated by Kristin Chenoweth, proving a talented mimic of the Broadway star’s singing style but a slightly stiffer presence on-screen. With her long blond hair and fine porcelain features, Grande nails the Little Miss Perfect dimension of Glinda’s personality, but lacks her idol’s killer comic timing. Even so, she makes a ruthlessly oblivious mean girl, tossing her tresses for attention and soaking up the praise of her peers at Shiz University (including Bowen Yang and Bronwynn James as her biggest fans), blankly batting her butterfly lashes whenever her tactics fail to charm.
The movie opens with visuals that simply can’t be accomplished live, tracking past Elphaba’s hat (the adjacent puddle can mean only one thing) before taking flight through an open window, following a CG flock of winged monkeys over CG poppy fields, up CG waterfalls and along a CG yellow brick road toward a CG Emerald City in the distance. None of it looks the slightest bit real — while virtual lens flares and magic-hour lighting feel like overkill — though the sequence gives Chu license to be fanciful as he wants with what follows.
In short, the “In the Heights” helmer immerses audiences where their imaginations did much of the work onstage, starting with an Oz-wide celebration of Elphaba’s demise before unpacking the “wicked” character’s backstory. Floating to Munchkinland in a delicate pink bubble, Glinda recalls how she and Elphaba were once reluctant roommates at Shiz, the prestigious school where Michelle Yeoh’s Madame Morrible picks Elphaba — already an outcast, on account of her pickle-colored pigmentation and wheelchair-using sister (Marissa Bode) — to be her next protégé.
That’s an honor Glinda had hoped to secure for herself, as Morrible’s gifted pupils are groomed to advise the Wizard (played by Jeff Goldblum, just the right level of eccentric), who summons Elphaba toward the end of Part I. Everyone here is in awe of Oz’s “magical” leader/fraud, except for Elphaba, who objects to his oppressive policies toward the land’s talking animal population — which Chu depicts like the species they are, rather than people in anthropomorphic costumes (which might have been a more charming choice).
These fantasy elements assume an unmistakable gravity in our current political climate, demonstrating the flexibility of the film’s central allegory. “You’re not being told the whole story!” cautions Shiz history professor Dr. Dillamond (a CG goat with an uncanny resemblance to Peter Dinklage) as he’s led away by the officers of Oz. That line may as well be the motto for “Wicked,” which aims to show how Elphaba’s motives have been misunderstood in previous depictions of Oz, including creator L. Frank Baum’s OG novels.
As the first half of that more complete account, “Wicked: Part I” is missing a few key details — like the explanation for Elphaba’s green skin and why water is her weakness — but manages to stand alone far better than many multiple-installment sagas. The episodification of cinema remains a frustration, as does the ballooning of running times, though both strategies allow stories like this to go deeper than one-offs of yore, and “Wicked” benefits from room to breathe.
The talking animal business, which suggests the treatment of Jews under the Third Reich (or the mass deportation of immigrants, for those looking for more contemporary parallels), will have to wait till Part II. Here, we get the introduction of Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), a self-satisfied love interest who’s the fulcrum in a triangle between Elphaba and Glinda, treated as a third wheel for much of the film.
The stud’s cocky introductory song, “Dancing Through Life,” proves a noteworthy exception, demonstrating how well Chu reinvents beloved stage numbers for the big screen. Set in the school library, the dynamically choreographed sequence finds Fiyero stomping on books and spinning on turbine-like shelves, as Glinda shamelessly flirts and Elphaba ignores him.
“Part I” also includes Glinda’s signature song, “Popular.” That amusing makeover immediately follows the scene most enhanced by Chu’s cinematic strategy, where well-chosen close-ups deliver emotional notes undetectable onstage: Tricked into wearing a pointed black hat to her first party, Elphaba starts to dance alone, earning derision from her classmates.
Broadway audiences laughed at the scene, but here, it’s heartbreaking, almost excruciating, as Chu intercuts between the earnestness of Elphaba’s naive movements and the barely concealed humiliation on her face. When Glinda steps in, that’s the first glimpse of goodness we get from her character — and a hint at the redemptive transformation that awaits this diva.
There’s a big difference between a standard 15-minute intermission and the nearly yearlong break that separates the two parts of “Wicked” in theaters. It helps that the film doesn’t end with a cliffhanger so much as Elphaba’s embrace of her full potential, à la “Dune: Part One.” Since “Wicked” serves as a loose prequel to Victor Fleming’s 1939 film, there’s a certain amount of mythology to establish — with more still to come.
These separate visits to Oz were made by different studios, and certain details (like the ruby slippers) belong to MGM, now Warner Bros., though Chu opens with the Universal logo of the same period and styles the logo after the earlier film’s font. Sticking to that same period, production designer Nathan Crowley gives the Emerald City a stunning art deco look, whereas Shiz University looks more Eastern (and organic) in its influences.
Paul Tazewell’s astonishingly intricate costumes blend touches from many different decades and cultures, in keeping with a different aspect of Chu’s aesthetic. Yes, the filmmaker is going for an antique look in places, but all that digital detail suits something unique to this moment — namely, a resolution never before possible, thanks to both ultra-sharp digital theatrical projection and 4K home formats.
Home is where Dorothy was trying to get all along, of course, though Chu clearly designed “Wicked” to be experienced the old-fashioned way: on the biggest screen you can find, among a crowd of giddy theatergoers (inevitably singing along in some screenings). Unlike several recent tuners, which tried to hide their musical dimension from audiences, “Wicked” embraces its identity the way Elphaba does her emerald skin. Turns out such confidence makes all the difference in how they’re perceived.
From Variety US