Didn’t expect their friendship would blossom over an impromptu reimagining of Audrey’s Dance from Twin Peaks.
I just barely missed the Wicked craze back in ‘03. I’d already finished college – theatre college, no less – so you can imagine what life on an all-singing, all-dancing campus must’ve been like when this thing dropped. The equivalent is probably the Hamilton furor, but while I respect and admire Miranda’s ingenuity, I hold the work of Stephen Schwartz close to my heart. At a glance, it’s easy to be enchanted by his melodious scores and dreamy lyrics, but perhaps my own fascination with failure is why he’s remained such a captivating figure. His spectacular rise, calamitous fall, and abdication of Broadway should’ve meant the juggernaut known as Wicked the Musical would never exist, at least not in the form he and librettist Winnie Holzman dreamed up. 20 years, a billion dollars, and a still-strong worldwide phenomenon later, the long-in-development big screen adaptation is a bubbly, meticulously crafted, splendiferizingly grand spectacle whose simplified, even generic renderings of universal themes doesn’t detract from what’s often a rousing and even moving experience.
Oh sure, blame the green chick whenever anything goes wrong!
Stephen Daldry was attached to this for YEARS and I would’ve loved to see his take, but I doubt he would’ve included half as many wickedly fabulous extras. WORK! I wouldn’t go so far as to call director Jon M. Chu a visionary, but he certainly knows how to stage musical sequences to scadalociously maximum effect. There’s a sweep and a bouncy verve, not to mention a refreshing reliance on intricately choreographed set pieces often captured in long takes rather than overcaffeinated quick cuts, to a surprisingly breezy 2hr40 runtime. In mega-productions such as these, it’s easy to lose the narrative in the grandiosity of it all, but Chu and his able cast never forget the background motifs of racism, ethnological cleansing, manipulation, conformity, and most important of all, friendship. These are heavy themes, but it’s all handled in a playful, even campy manner which befits such an iconic twisting of Baum’s already infinitely iconic work.
Erivo’s soaring vocals and defiance in the face of scorn and adversity is inspiring and Grande’s comedic chops match her wildly physical performance: “I didn’t get my way.” Bailey’s Fiyero has a wonderfully sardonic charm and despite their brief roles, Slater and Bode make for a lovely Boq and Nessarose, especially during the Ozdust ballroom sequence. Emerald City is a real eye-popper as well with some welcome, knowing cameos from Wicked all-stars. It’s an involving watch and despite many digital effects and backgrounds, it feels genuinely magical; like the thrill of a new student finding their people and a place to belong. More than a few scenes will elicit chills, mostly whenever Schwartz’s music is involved, and this is what happens when you hire GOOD singers for your movie musical.
The last hour doesn’t drag, but post-Popular, there are a few dips here and there and Goldblum is devilish fun, if not quite able to convince that he’s not just being Jeff Goldblum in a fancy green suit. The finale, powerhouse though it may be, is also a bit too digital for my taste and easily could’ve hard cut to black much sooner, but it’s mostly, as Ozians would put it, “wonderful.” Here’s to seeing whether all of the groundwork laid here will make for a darker but no less compelling Part Two.
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