Wicked – A Small Spark of Magic That Never Lights (Early Review)

If Hell could be physically imagined, it would probably be in the form of the classic fiery inferno we all know and love from our years of religious and cultural indoctrination; if Development Hell could be physically imagined, it would probably be painted in the glossy greens and pinks that populate the long-awaited film adaptation of the Broadway smash Wicked. Adapted from a musical by Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman, which was itself adapted from a book by Gregory Maguire… which was itself adapted from L. Frank Baum’s classic “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” Jon M. Chu’s cinematic reimagining of the frequently reimagined source material has been a long time in the making, suffering prolonged bouts of developmental strife and continuous shooting delays caused by everything from the COVID-19 pandemic to the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strikes; one might be wont to consider the possibility of a malicious curse plaguing the material, like the muffled chanting of a witch who simply doesn’t want this film to see the light of day.

Alas, after many, many years of development (the first official announcement by Universal pegged the film to be released in December 2019), Wicked can finally soar into theatres with all the fanfare that decades of built-up Broadway fervour and seemingly endless months of advertising can muster. No more speculation, no more memes, no more comparisons to other mythical films that were never released like the remake of The Crow or Coppola’s Megalopolis (…wait…); now, Chu’s vision has been laid out in all its shiny glory to be examined for what it is. What it is, as it turns out, is a perfectly serviceable musical about the rose-tinted throes of strained friendship in times of uncertainty, assembled with all the clarity and focus of its own protagonist’s unrefined magic powers.

That protagonist is, of course, the Wicked Witch of the West, introduced at the start of Wicked in the melted state that ended the classic Wizard of Oz. But she wasn’t always a nasty curmudgeon worthy of widespread celebration upon her death (a bit harsh, maybe?), as her former friend Galinda (Grande) will attest. Back when they met, the witch was merely Elphaba (Erivo), a gifted young sorceress whose inexplicable green complexion made her the laughingstock of her entire cohort at Shizz University, including Galinda as her reluctant roommate. As circumstances begin to warm, however, so too do Elphaba and Galinda towards one another, as a budding friendship emerges amidst the backdrop of shady politics and the eternal mystery of that Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Goldblum).

It’s mainly in this arena of budding friendship—when the film is essentially a high school comedy-drama with wizards (think Harry Potter by way of John Hughes and Stephen Sondheim)—that Wicked makes itself most comfortable as a long-gestating expression of Broadway flash brought to the silver screen. Though the musical sequences themselves are rarely shot with the sort of cinematographic dynamism that Chu so clearly wants to infuse into this largely anonymous choreography (though Paul Tazewell’s dazzling costumes do as much heavy lifting as they can), the director finds his best moments when allowing his performers to take centre-stage and interact with one another, seeing as how the polished CG scenery won’t give them all that much to work with.

Their friendship, though somewhat rushed—a particularly unforgivable development given the film’s 161-minute runtime and complete lack of a resolution, owing to its hidden “Part 1” designation—is given as much spark as can be conjured when Erivo and Grande are given the space to make their own magic. Grande especially seems delicately attuned to Galinda’s well-meaning demeanour wrapped in the veneer of a severe lack of tact, with each overconfident inflection and calculatedly obnoxious hair-flip giving the impression that Wicked may actually be setting its sights, albeit inadvertently, on an entirely different tragic figure to spotlight. Erivo, though, shouldn’t be underestimated, as her own commanding singing voice lends firm structure to Elphaba, a character whose measured presence reveals an insecurity that would be obvious even if it were not part of the film’s stated plot.

That plot is precisely where Wicked begins to take a nosedive from the tip of its broomstick, as the complete dearth of substantive development in its third act—in the grand scheme of the narrative, more of a second act—leaves the film’s flimsy grasp at themes of inequality and allegorical justice through animal rights entirely dependent on the mere breadcrumbs forced into the previous two hours that were far more concerned with (and successful at) Popular Girl antics. When it comes time for Chu to bring things to a head, the predictability of Holzman’s and Dana Fox’s script goes well beyond the knowledge of The Wizard of Oz we all have firmly embedded in our DNA, taking Wicked‘s characterization to places as bland and hollow as its faux-natural lighting. The trip to see the Wizard has been a long one, but if audiences were to get a single wish granted for their troubles, they might want to consider more concision when Part 2 swoops in from behind the emerald-tinted clouds.

still courtesy of Universal Pictures

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Julian Malandruccolo

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