This review contains spoilers for the film.
“Are people born wicked?” asks Glinda Upland (Ariana Grande), the Good Witch of the North, at the outset of “Wicked.” “Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?”
Those are deep questions from one of Broadway’s most shallow characters.
In both the movie and the hit musical it draws inspiration from, Glinda serves as a magnetic, materialistic, and conditionally kind contrast to Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo), the story’s protagonist and the young Wicked Witch of the West.
However, unlike the play — where Glinda’s privilege villainizes her — the movie portrayed the characters’ diverging paths with humanity, highlighting that, when taken at an extreme, society offers no good choices for women: like Glinda, we can abandon our ideals for social success or, like Elphaba, we can sacrifice popularity to protect personal character.
The outcomes are polarizing. And, either way, they dictate the course of your life.
Though longer than the entire stage production at an aggressive two hours and 40 minutes, “Wicked: Part One” is, for the most part, ruthlessly loyal to its source material, lingering on somewhat superficial details but enhancing the producton’s best elements through the emotional investment, nuance, and tension that the movie’s close-up shots allow it to build.
Powerful visual components of acting — such as eye contact, presence, and posture — are much easier to illustrate cinematically rather than on stage, and the movie knows this.
Not only does this film underline the moral grey area for these characters through camera angles spotlighting the messages sent through small gestures — Elphaba winking in “Defying Gravity” or Glinda’s body language throughout “Popular” — it also monopolizes the phenomenal presence Erivo has in every scene she’s in, making her, without question, the star of this show.
Not that there was ever any question about what elevates “Wicked” to unprecedented heights. From start to finish, it’s Erivo.
As different actors carry the torch of playing these iconic roles, it is crucial that their own experiences pour through in their performance.
In the hearts and minds of “Wicked” on Broadway and in much of popular culture, Indina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth define what success looks like as Elphaba and Glinda respectively. To compellingly tell this story to a new audience, Erivo and her co-stars needed to discover and portray not only how their identity intersected with that of their role but how to shed new light on that character’s growth, journey, and perspective.
Erivo — as a black, queer woman and celebrated actress — did this flawlessly.
Almost every time she started crying on screen, we found ourselves tearing up. In such a dynamic, moving way, she embodied Elphaba’s shame, defiance, pride, and courage, showcasing with subtlety the depth of her character’s principles and pain.
And as a counterpart to this icon, the ideal actress was chosen: Ariana Grande.
Her effervescent voice embodies Glinda, and Grande’s vocal range — crucial to singing Glinda’s emblematic high notes — is a show stopper. She utilizes it like the critical acting tool it is, drawing the reader into Glinda’s hidden, raw emotional vulnerability in scenes like “No One Mourns the Wicked” and how her sense of self and societal adoration are codependent in the pop ballad, “Popular.”
Together, these actresses have compelling chemistry and a mutual understanding for one another’s roles. Up close, the banter and multilayered jokes woven into their expressions and body language allow the audience to feel their friendship develop, something that is not easily observed in the Broadway version.
However, while this movie’s commitment to extravagance is one of its greatest strengths, it’s also where it stumbles.
Take, for instance, “Dancing Through Life.”
While one of our favorite songs — and an invaluable insight into who Fiyero Tigelaar (Jonathan Bailey) is — the choreography is, frankly, all over the place. It represents this film’s Achilles’ heel: it tries to do too many things too much of the time, overestimating the bandwidth and visual stamina of its audience rather than letting the stellar heroines, supporting roles, and music speak for itself.
Overall, this adaptation was a great success, carried by a jaw-dropping set reminiscent of both Hogwarts and Candyland, a first-rate cast, and its potent, relative messages.
As the film artfully points out, maybe villainy isn’t inherent, but a product of circumstance. Maybe our perception of what makes an antagonist mirrors our culture rather than their character.
Maybe discomfort at the witch’s green skin isn’t a reflection of her immorality, but of the flawed, exclusionary, and elitist mindset that places blame on those ostracized rather than those who ostracize — both in Oz and the world beyond “Wicked.”
