“Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?” The conundrum of theodicy has long plagued humanity, just as it’s plagued the Ozians of Munchkinland. Like the source novel and Broadway musical, Jon M. Chu’s film adaptation of part one of Wicked (penned by Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox) doesn’t dig into the existential nitty-gritty of the question. But it makes its position on the matter as blunt as the theatrics are dazzling: no, people are not born wicked. It’s thrust upon them by circumstance or, more specifically, the powers that be.
As all fans of the musical already know: we begin at the end… of The Wizard of Oz. The Wicked Witch of the West has been defeated and the munchkins are rejoicing like they’ll never rejoice again. They’re throwing the biggest party ever seen this side of Emerald City. Munchkins hoot and holler across the Yellow Brick Road, singing and dancing and eventually rolling out a giant wicker witch, intricately woven and taller than the houses around them. Soon enough they set it ablaze, burning the wicker woman with all the cult-like fervor of a creepy village people who have been chronically lied to, who know only propaganda (but don’t know it).
Glinda the Good Witch of the North (Ariana Grande) is their north star of the moment, so they direct the theodical question toward her. As legend goes that the Good Witch and the Wicked Witch were once buddies, the Munchkins ask her about that, too, sending the film into a feature-length flashback that traces the relationship between Glinda (named “Galinda” for most of the film) and Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) at Shiz University, where Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) reigns supreme in her sorcerous teaching.
In concept and design, Shiz is a Hogwarts-esque magic-harnessing school. It’s so Hogwartsy that it’s straining in both production design and teachers’ hair, makeup, and costuming not to evoke Harry Potter––a difficult task, it turns out. (Though one can’t help wondering if J.K. Rowling pulled Hogwarts inspiration from the Wicked novel, which was published two years before Sorcerer’s Stone.) Where it escapes Harry Potter, it embraces Lord of the Rings, the school ultimately looking like Hogwarts-meets-Rivendell.
That said, Nathan Crowley’s production design is nothing to balk at. The same can be said of Paul Tazewell’s costumes. The hand-made sets are one of the most impressive elements of the film, Chu opting for as much carpentry and concrete reality during the shoot as possible (opposed to filming everything in front of green screens). Each set is ornate and contributes to the legitimacy in the blocking and framing of each scene, something typically lost on projects that rely on CGI wherever possible.
Once at school, the rivalry between Galinda and the green-skinned Elphaba begins. Elphaba is taken under the wing of Morrible, Galinda’s dream, while the school takes Galinda’s lead in chiding Elphaba over her skin color. Moreover, Morrible flat-out tells Galinda that Elphaba will be her only protégé, heightening tension between the students. Despite the 160-minute runtime, it isn’t long before their rivalry breeds best friendship, Elphaba receives an invite to meet the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum), and the two are off to Emerald City to meet the most powerful man in Oz.
Despite how much money was poured into the production––or perhaps because of it––Wicked feels as stale as blockbusters can be, hitting every major storytelling trope. Yet the songs are engaging (the riveting “Defying Gravity” climax is undoubtedly the movie’s best moment, one Chu said took as much out of him as directing the rest of the movie) and the leads are terrific.
It’s not laugh-out-loud funny, but there’s a genuine charm upheld by the two lead performances and consistent self-aware punchlines. (“Why don’t you just teach us history, and stop harping on the past?” Galinda pleads with their history professor.) Erivo fills Elphaba out perfectly. But Elphaba is a subdued character (at least in the first half of Wicked). Grande, on the other hand, plays a much more electric part, bringing a deeply felt confidence and comfort in front of the camera.
Given that she got her start on TV, it’s no surprise that she’s comfortable, but even the most experienced actors can’t conjure chops like Grande’s out of their confidence. She’s also taken on a role that requires a good deal of self-awareness. She has to play the part with a sense of real-world irony that comes through but doesn’t interrupt the character. Between her pure acting skills and sense of humor about herself (see: her recent SNL episode), she’s proving someone to look forward to on film.
At its core, Wicked is about propaganda, miseducation, fake news, and the people’s passion borne from it. It makes an enemy out of the popularity of thoughtlessness, chosen stupidity, and misinformation––a ripe (if not eternally ripe) topic for the times. But it relegates its thematic strengths to the corner of ironically thoughtless family fun entertainment that seeks to please and assuage where other projects might investigate the theme and leave you with a sense of concern over the real-world parallels without sacrificing entertainment. As they say, “Life is fraughtless when you’re thoughtless.”
Maybe Wicked: Part II will give us a little more to think about.
Wicked opens on Friday, November 22.