“Too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It’s time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leap. It’s time to try defying gravity!” These electrifying words from Wicked’s anthem of empowerment, “Defying Gravity,” buzzed in my head as I stepped out of the theater, their echoes mingling with the collective energy of the crowd. Around me, people were smiling through tears, bursting with joy and immersed in the magic of Wicked: Part One. The atmosphere outside felt almost as alive as the movie itself—a shared exhilaration that seemed to hum through the air, reminding us of the story’s enduring message: to embrace who you are, fight for what you believe and, above all, dare to defy the odds.
Director Jon M. Chu’s Wicked: Part One brings the beloved Broadway musical to dazzling cinematic life, reimagining the fantastical land of Oz with spectacular visual and emotional depth. The film transports audiences into a world of shimmering emerald towers, lush tulip landscapes, and electric performances that honor the heart of the original while expanding its scope. Yet, beyond the spectacle, the film’s real triumph lies in its thematic resonance—an exploration of identity, courage and the transformative power of friendship.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Ozdust Ballroom scene, what I believe to be one of the film’s most poignant and emotional moments—said as someone who both witnessed and experienced tears myself each of the three times I watched the film before sitting down to write! When Elphaba, played with extraordinary vulnerability and strength by Cynthia Erivo, begins to dance freely despite the mocking stares of her peers, audiences witness a powerful and vulnerable act of defiance. Her unpolished, quirky movements reflect a confidence she has long buried under years of lifelong judgment. The unexpected twist, however, is Glinda—originally known as Galinda—who decides to join her. Ariana Grande-Butera’s initially hesitant, polished pink and image-conscious character watches Elphaba’s declaration alongside her love interest, Jonathan Bailey’s Fiyero, who while watching turns to her, “I’ll say this much,” he said. “She doesn’t give a twig what anyone thinks.” With tears building behind her eyes and a sudden moment of clarity, Glinda looks out at Elphaba and responds to Fiyero, “Of course she does…she just pretends not to.”
Glinda’s willingness to set aside her need for perfection and dance in solidarity with Elphaba is a quietly revolutionary moment, embodying the themes of acceptance and connection that make Wicked so moving. It’s not just a dance; it’s a declaration: that kindness and authenticity are forces powerful enough to challenge the status quo and shift the tides of expectation. It’s a bold act of vulnerability, proving that staying true to who we are—despite the pressures to conform—is a risk worth taking. Watching these two equally beautiful and unique individuals connect through their differences was incredibly powerful and rests with me as my favorite scene of the entire film—despite it not even being a momentous musical moment!
Since its debut on Broadway in 2003, Wicked has captivated audiences worldwide with its bold themes, spectacular visuals and unforgettable music. It explores how the iconic characters from The Wizard of Oz—not just the witches but also the Scarecrow, Tin Man and Cowardly Lion—came to be the figures we know today.
The film adaptation, with Erivo and Grande-Butera has long been anticipated by fans of the stage production with part one having finally been released November 22, 2024 and part two coming out November 21 of the following year.
Thematically, the film beautifully captures the essence of Wicked as a story of empowerment and defiance. Elphaba’s arc, from shy misfit to courageous activist, reflects the universal struggle of finding one’s voice in a world that fears difference. Her fight to defend Oz’s animals, whose voices are being systematically silenced, resonates as a metaphor for the real-world struggles of minorities fighting against oppressive government. Meanwhile, Glinda’s journey adds complexity as she grapples with her complicity in the system she has always benefited from, ultimately revealing her capacity for growth and introspection. Together, their stories emphasize the importance of standing firm in one’s beliefs, even when it feels like the world may be against you.
However, despite the film’s numerous triumphs, the casting of Jeff Goldblum as the Wizard left much to be desired. Goldblum’s jazz background and distinct charisma might have seemed like an inspired choice on paper, but his vocal performance felt ill-suited to the demands of his song, “A Sentimental Man”. Instead of enhancing the Wizard’s charm or menace, his singing lacked the depth and resonance necessary to carry the character’s emotional weight, making his musical moments more of a distraction than an enhancement. In contrast, Michelle Yeoh’s portrayal of Madame Morrible showcased how to effectively navigate limitations in singing ability. The production smartly leaned into Yeoh’s formidable acting prowess, crafting her role to highlight her commanding presence without relying too heavily on vocal demands.
Additionally, the film’s choice to split the story into two parts left me feeling incomplete.While the extended runtime allows for deeper character exploration and world-building, it comes at the cost of significant narrative momentum. Just as the stakes for both Elphaba and Glinda reach their peak, the movie ends, having left me and many viewers yearning for the catharsis that made the Broadway production so “wonderlocious,” as Ozians may say. It’s certainly a bold gamble that sets increasingly high expectations for the second installment, but also risks frustrating audiences who expect a more self-contained story.
From an economic perspective, however, the decision has already proven lucrative; the first installment has earned $449 million worldwide, positioning the franchise to maximize its box office returns with two high-performing releases instead of one. The play’s roughly 2.5-hour runtime compresses the story into a tight, emotionally impactful experience, while each movie installment is closer to 2.5 hours on its own, nearly doubling the time spent in Oz. This expanded format allows for greater depth in exploring the characters’ backstories and the nuances of the world. However, it also diffuses the immediacy and cohesiveness of the narrative, potentially diluting the emotional intensity that made the stage production so memorable. While fans may appreciate the added detail and grandeur, the extended timeline risks testing audience patience and could result in a loss of narrative momentum between the two releases.
Ultimately, Wicked: Part One is an ambitious and deeply emotional adaptation that celebrates the enduring magic of Oz. It doesn’t just bring the musical to the screen; it breathes new life into it, using the cinematic medium to expand its scope and deepen its characters. While the incomplete story arc tempers its impact, and Jeff Goldblum’s singing feels out of place, the film’s visual brilliance—through its stunning sets and gorgeous costumes—combined with stirring performances and powerful themes, ensures it leaves a lasting impression.
If the second part can deliver on the promise of this first installment, Wicked could become a definitive cinematic classic. Until then, this first film reminds us of the beauty in defying gravity—one bold leap at a time!
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