Wicked: The Problem With Victimhood

A movie review from a musical theater fan.

Wicked: The Problem With Victimhood

The first time I saw Wicked was when I was about thirteen years old at the Ahmanson Theater in Los Angeles. It was a gift from my father who raised us on musicals - we had listened to the soundtrack for years before seeing the production. I had sung Popular and Defying Gravity at the piano with him, too.

But when I saw the show, I was incredibly angry. I had grown up reading the original L. Frank Baum books - there are 14 - and they were an integral part of my childhood. So to see the entire lore of Oz thrown out and rewritten to suit a new narrative designed to redeem the Wicked Witch felt lazy and disrespectful. If Wicked had taken the original world of Oz, without changing the basic elements that Baum had created, and showed them through a different lens and perspective, I could respect that as a work of art. But simply erasing the story behind Oz to create an entirely new one felt like a slap in the face to Baum’s work.

So when I learned that they were releasing the film of Wicked, I was initially disinterested. After a few of my friends shared how much they enjoyed the movie, though, I decided I would go in with an open mind. Instead of comparing Wicked to The Wizard of Oz, I chose to compare the film version against the stage production.

Now, the first thing to note is that the movie is simply part one of the show. And it’s two hours and forty minutes. The original show is that length in its entirety. Before going to see the movie, I thought that was a bit of a stretch, no pun intended. But after seeing the film, I will say that it did not feel long.

Wicked was enjoyable. The visuals were beautiful and creative, the acting was very good, and the singing was wonderful. The additional elements were world-building and character-enhancing, so it didn’t feel like length was added simply for length’s sake. I turned to my friends after the film ended and said, “I think this is kind of like Harry Potter for musical theater nerds.” There’s a lot of time spent in the university, so you are learning what Oz is like through the eyes of a student - not dissimilar to Hogwarts. However, for each positive element there is a caveat.

First, as I left the theater, I was WIRED. Perhaps because the film was long, perhaps because I rarely see movies anymore, I felt like I finally understood what Coco Melon does to babies. I was so overstimulated! The visuals are intensely engaging, the emotions are running high, and the music is ear-filling. It was so much to take in, I feel like I need to see it a second time just to make sure I actually caught everything. I don’t know whether this is a negative description or a positive one, but I will say, in many ways this film was entirely immersive. And that was cool.

Now, as a singer, I can offer a glimpse into the singing that may be beyond what others' notice. On the cast recording, Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo both sound fantastic, so I was looking forward to seeing what it looked like on film. Cynthia Erivo is beyond reproach when it comes to her technique - her singing is excellent. The one song I felt she underperformed was, “I’m Not That Girl.” Compared to Idina Menzel’s rendition, Erivo seemed a little less emotionally engaged and more focused on making the song sound pretty. It was also under-directed - Erivo didn’t have much to do. Even the visual of Fiyero and Galinda embracing as Elphaba sings of her sadness didn’t do much for the scene, as Fiyero is so clearly distracted by thoughts of Elphaba that Elphaba mourning his disinterest seems out of place.

Ariana Grande, though, was clearly straining to sing in her upper register. Although it sounds great, she uses her jaw to compensate for breath control and uses her tongue to depress her larynx. Yes, we are getting into the nitty gritty, but the big takeaway for something like this is that Grande can perform this role for a film where she only has to get it right once rather than perform it eight times each week (which is the typical schedule of a Broadway performer). If Grande had to do this every night, I think she would struggle immensely and end up injuring herself in the process.

But now we come to the real meat of this review. After seeing the movie, something about it bothered me and I couldn’t figure out what it was. Something kept replaying in my head over and over and it felt like a symptom of the problem that the movie struggled with. In the song, “What Is This Feeling?” Galinda and Elphaba each write a letter to their separate set of parents. Galinda describes her roommate as, “Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe.” Elphaba’s description? “Blonde.” In the original cast recording with Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, Elphaba’s line reading of “blonde,” is said dripping with disdain. In the film version, however, Erivo says it flatly, factually, and without any meaning at all. It rubbed me the wrong way because it completely destroys the comical nature of the line.

As I thought about this misstep, I realized there was another lost comical moment. In “Popular,” Galinda gives Elphaba a makeover after which Elphaba dashes off the stage, announcing, “I have to go.” It’s a funny moment where Galinda is clearly overstepping her role as friend and Elphaba is clearly uncomfortable with the ridiculous nature of the entire endeavor. Galinda follows up the interaction with, “You’re welcome! And though you protest, your disinterest…” In the film version, Erivo gets emotional when Galinda is being kind, and says, “I have to go” in a more emotionally distraught way which indicates that she is overcome by Galinda’s compliments. The following lines by Galinda are then rendered awkward and useless.

It occurred to me that what makes Wicked work as a musical is that both Galinda and Elphaba are flawed. Galinda is full of herself, thinks she’s perfect, and is self-absorbed beyond belief. Elphaba is harsh, cynical, and sarcastic given her background of rejection because of her green skin. The interplay of the two main characters only works when both of them need to improve and grow by interacting with the other.

What the movie gets wrong is removing all of Elphaba’s flaws in order to focus on her victim status. Elphaba in the film does not have the cynical, hard, rude nature that makes her a perfect foil to Galinda. In fact, she is perfectly sincere, which undermines her entire character. When she sings, “What Is This Feeling?” it doesn’t really ring true. She isn’t hateful or frustrated - she’s absolutely justified. By reducing Elphaba to a perfect victim, Galinda is actually just a villain. The question must be raised - why should Elphaba be Galinda’s friend at all? What does she have to learn from her?

It seems that casting a black woman as Elphaba was a purposeful move to compare Elphaba’s experience with being an outcast based on her skin color to racism in our world. And so, in order to stick with the narrative, instead of allowing Elphaba to be her own character with her own shortcomings, the filmmakers made her a stand-in for all people who have been discriminated against by simplifying her into a victim with no faults. (Don’t get me wrong - Cynthia Erivo is a fantastic Elphaba and should have been cast in the role. It’s just the conversation surrounding her casting that makes this political).

This seemingly small element of the film undermined the entire dynamic. Was the film overall worth seeing? Yes. Were the performances good? Absolutely. But there is something missing - and the movie suffers for it.

What did you think? Did you see the film? Share your thoughts in the comments below!