Great music, great singing, great visuals, great plot concepts, though I had the feeling the two principal leads were not really acting. Ariana Grande plays the privileged, pretty, and popularity-obsessed Galinda/Glinda while Cynthia Erivo the unwanted green child destined for infamy, Elphaba. Although we all know what’s coming for the so-called “Wicked Witch of the West,” it was nevertheless thrilling to see her stand her ground at the conclusion of this first installment, declaring literally and figuratively that she will “Defy Gravity.” Too bad that she can’t defy reality as well.
Breaking box office records, the film is certainly very “Popular,” though I wonder if the masses are getting the irony and social commentary therein. A moving interview on NPR with Cynthia Erivo helped me understand that director Jonathan Chu (Crazy Rich Asians) is not just making a blockbuster but making a statement. When peeling back the layers of this analysis of friendship, acceptance, ethics, and autonomy from the perspective of two female characters, I began to wonder if the masses flocking to see it were aware of its very feminist and “woke” message as well? A woman of color is rejected, ridiculed, pitied, empowered, envied, desired, feared, and finally, hated (in that order). She fights for justice only to be villainized for it. A group is silenced because of who they are. Galinda/Glinda complains they don’t want to learn about the dark real history of the past and prefers a more sanitized version. An affable outsider arrives and finds “chaos,” and to unify the country he states “the best way to bring people together is to give them a common enemy.” People manufacture lies to maintain power. And finally, in the hit “Popular,” put to song is the message that “It’s not about aptitude, it’s the way you’re viewed. So it’s very shrewd to be very very popular. Like me!” This all sounds too familiar.
When children’s author Gregory Macguire wrote the book, he sought to explore the nature of evil, and wanted an “arresting plot that would engage hundreds of thousands of people around the world.” Before you think this meant he sought fame and fortune it should be noted that this book is a tragedy, and initial book sales were slow. But thus are classics; they take time to mature. The genius of the book version is that the Elphaba therein is not very likeable, yet she earns the reader’s empathy over the more polished Glinda; the true “Wicked Witch” wasn’t green after all! Indeed, the book turns everything from the “Wizard of Oz,” and our societal expectations, on its head. I look forward to how the movie version works this out. Well, we do know how it all works out: the uncompromisingly authentic fighter for justice is dead while the world rejoices, and the conformist enjoys wide renown and fame. So while Macguire seems to begin with the premise that “good” and “evil” is merely what we say it is, the way he crafts the story and pulls our sympathies towards the “evil” character forces us to confront our own prejudices. Indeed, he seems to actually hint that “good” and “evil” are not so malleable, that they are, in fact, indelibly stamped on our hearts. We know who’s actually the “good” witch but we are loath to admit that, despite our better judgement, we’re attracted to the vapid prom queen. It seems that when the chips are down and we have a choice between aptitude and popularity, we choose popularity. Case in point: during this last election cycle, we chose a convicted felon over a clearly more qualified woman of color.
So what is the moral lesson here, if any? We want the uncompromising Elphaba to succeed, and Glinda is portrayed as an unapologetic social climber, but the arc of the story eventually melts the former and elevates the latter. Elphaba even does a solid for the undeserving Glinda, only to turn into a liquid. There is a clear winner here, though we are conflicted about it. Therein lies the moral lesson. Wicked seems to sarcastically suggest that since good looks or privilege (often both) virtually guarantee success, it’s just wishful thinking to believe otherwise, right? Just look at what happened to Elphaba! But we simultaneously know that there are many who make the ultimate sacrifice for their beliefs. Some might call them “suckers.” Others would call them martyrs.
Wicked lays bare the dueling Elphabas and Glindas within us; we want to be authentic and accepted, and many times it is hard to be both. To be authentic, we merely have to be true to ourselves, whereas acceptance relies on someone else’s judgement, which is notoriously fickle. If morality is a social construct, what if that society is falling into decay and corruption? Those who are labeled “wicked” are therefore those who haven’t capitulated to the decadence and strive to live authentically. Maybe it’s high time we all become a little wicked.