There’s No Way 'Wicked Part II' Will Be Better Than 'Wicked Part I'

We all know of the Wicked Witch of the West: A fearsome green witch with a pointed nose, equally pointed hat, and equipped with a broomstick and evil cackle. For decades, the character was associated with Margaret Hamilton’s depiction in The Wizard of Oz. A very archetypal depiction of a witch, she is presented without motivations or backstory. It isn’t until Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel, “Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,” that we are finally given an image of a human being behind her wickedness. Like the stage musical by Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman, Jon M. Chu’s Wicked asks: Why does wickedness happen? Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? This first part of a two-part film adaptation re-introduces one of cinema’s most well-known characters on the big screen while recontextualizing a classic story we thought we knew so well.

In Wicked (or Wicked: Part I), Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), our green witch, has a premonition that there will be a celebration around Oz about her. What she doesn’t know yet is that the celebration is her death. The film begins after she is turned into a puddle by Dorothy. “Ding dong! The witch is dead,” as the song goes. While the munchkins of Munchkinland celebrate with Glinda the Good (Ariana Grande), they are surprised to learn that she and the Wicked Witch of the West were once friends. What begins is a story about that friendship that takes place long before the brick road was yellow and long before monkeys could fly.

Elphaba, like everyone else, had a childhood. She had a father, the governor of Munchkinland, and a mother, too. And like many families, hers had their secrets and their tragedies. From the moment she was born, she was rejected, including by her father, for the color of her skin. Those who showed her love were few, but all were impactful. There was her nanny (a bear) who raised her and her paraplegic sister Nessarose (Marissa Bode). Despite Nessarose being favored by their father because she’s the “right” color, Elphaba never feels jealous. She loves her sister and isn’t annoyed when her father asks her to keep an eye on Nessarose on her first day at Shiz University. What Elphaba doesn’t expect is to end up being enrolled by the end of the day.

When Elphaba arrives at Shiz University with her sister, she is immediately looked at with disgust for her appearance. Her magic abilities, brought on by anger, don’t help in a situation that could inevitably reach a boiling point. However, the University’s Dean of Sorcery, Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), sees her talent and potential and decides to give her private lessons to harness her power and eventually be invited to meet The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Jeff Goldblum). Meanwhile, she has to put up with her roommate, Glinda. Entitled, bubbly, and dolled up in bubblegum pink, Glinda and Elphaba couldn’t be more different from each other. Despite initial loathing, they slowly become friends. This friendship between them is tested as dark secrets begin to emerge about what’s happening to the talking animals of Oz. Caged and losing their voice, Elphaba has the eyes to see the truth, and using her voice to fight injustice, she finds herself in the face of it as she takes a flight of defiance.

Now, for some transparency: This is the first time I’ve seen Wicked. I can’t state my opinion on whether this is a faithful adaptation of the story’s first act, but looking at what fans of the musical have said, I can relay with certainty that it is. Very little has changed and it’s pretty much identical when it comes to everything from the songs to the dialogue. It’s surprising because this part one is basically the same length as the entire stage production. While some fans say that this film didn’t need to be split up, and it does feel long because of this, at no point is it noticeable which parts they stretched out. Everything feels cohesive, and its length allows Chu to play around with its more cinematic aspects — and this is one of the most cinematic musicals ever. The longer runtime also allows for more breathing room to explore the characters, especially Glinda and Elphaba, with even more depth, allowing the story’s emotional beats to truly pierce the heart.

Glinda and Elphaba are the main draws of the story, and likewise are the performances by Erivo and Grande. The latter proves, one hair whip after another, that she is the perfect choice to play Glinda. Like Elphaba, The Wizard of Oz never gives us any insight into the kind of person Glinda is. Grande captures a very bubbly and perky personality that can unleash very subtle and yet still razor-sharp insults. This makes her both amusing and unlikable at the same time, especially when we first meet her. Slowly, her very entitled air fades, and she begins to display a tug and pull between image and doing what’s right. This is what makes her and Elphaba total opposites, as Elphaba has never cared about what anyone thinks, or doesn’t show it at least, and is driven by what she believes is right. This is something Glinda will never understand, but this difference is what makes their friendship so interesting.

While Grande is hilarious in moments of melodrama that never go overboard, Erivo delivers a more reserved portrayal that really shines in her more quiet moments. Despite that stoic exterior with sparks of fire underneath, she also displays a vulnerability that comes out in moments of comfort with another person. Erivo’s depiction of The Wicked Witch of the West turns her from a caricature to someone we can easily identify with. The magic of Wicked really comes out when these two performers are on screen together, especially in the OzDust Ballroom sequence where Glinda joins Elphaba on the dance floor. Dancing to a beat only they can understand, their movements, and Glinda’s acceptance of Elphaba in the face of laughter from others, create a reaction from Erivo that’s emotional to witness. Combined with the muted soundwork and light melody, it’s a stunning sequence that captures their friendship with sincerity.

One X (formerly Twitter) user pointed out a funny commonality between all Wicked reviews. They essentially say the same thing: “The performances are perfect and the choreography leaps off the screen, [but] there’s just one small problem, it’s completely hideous.” While I can agree with the former points, the latter isn’t completely true. While the film does remind us that the classic Technicolor of the old OZ is dead, Wicked’s visuals are not so much impacted by a lack of color but how lighting is used. The biggest example of its misuse is how it can often struggle to capture Elphaba properly. As a character with an all-black wardrobe, she drowns in the darker scenes. When the film’s backlighting fails to deliver the vibrancy such a whimsical film deserves, song, dance, production design, and costumes bring life to the screen. Every one of these elements creates a fully immersive experience without traces of it ever feeling like a film-to-stage production. The camera sweeps the audience across scenes, just as the musical numbers do, with each sequence taking place in another corner of this gorgeous world. The film’s supporting cast makes a big impact, as well, especially Jonathan Bailey as the sexy Prince Fiyero. He brings a vivaciousness to the piece, especially in his energetic and fun performance of “Dancing Through Life.” You can’t get enough of this heartthrob, to the point you wish he was featured in Part I way more than he is.

Wicked is magical and epic. This version of Oz is different yet familiar at the same time. The familiarity also extends to this story, not so much as to mean familiarity with the musical, but familiarity with the story of The Wicked Witch of the West and how it’s a reflection of the many women who are marginalized, excluded, and persecuted; stories of women set aflame for simply walking a different path. There’s a sense of bravery and a look of sadness as Elphaba steps away, but there’s also a fist-pumping sense of rebellion as she defies not only gravity but all of Oz. There’s relevancy in the fight against patriarchal institutions; there’s relevancy in fighting for groups that are silenced; there’s relevancy in the journey of trying to understand ourselves and embracing it. Wicked is as relevant as it is impactful, and we’ll have to wait and see if Part II will be able to fly as high as this part does.