There’s some kind of magic afoot. If, like me, you’re one of the very few people who hasn’t already seen the blockbuster stage musical Wicked (it’s the second-highest-grossing Broadway show of all time, so that’s an awful lot of bums on seats), you may approach this shiny, high-energy, relentlessly marketed movie adaptation with low to moderate expectations. There’s the unwieldy running time, for a start – two hours and 40 minutes – and the cynical, box-office-gouging decision to carve the story into two films (fans will have to wait almost a year to the day before they get to watch the concluding chapter).
But here’s the thing: reservations are soon extinguished and grumbles about the release strategy swiftly quashed. Wicked matches its polished razzle-dazzle with real heart. Driven by knockout performances from Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, Jon M Chu’s impossibly slick charm assault of an adaptation zips along so enjoyably that you almost wish it were longer (your bladder may disagree). With its all too timely themes of bullying, corrupt leaders and the demonisation of difference, this is a movie that promises a froth of pink and green escapism but delivers considerably more in the way of depth and darkness.
For those who have somehow evaded Wicked’s cultural reach over the past couple of decades, here’s a brief primer. The film and the stage show are both loosely based on Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, which offers an alternative backstory for the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz. This film focuses on Wicked’s early years and two young witches-to-be: green-skinned outcast Elphaba (Erivo), who will go on to become the Wicked Witch of the West, and the vain, popular Galinda (Grande), who will eventually blossom into Glinda the Good.
Both Elphaba and Galinda are newly arrived at Shiz University (think the student politics of Mean Girls’s North Shore High and the curriculum of Hogwarts). Although not enrolled as a student, Elphaba is on site to help her paraplegic younger sister, Nessarose (Marissa Bode). But the formidable teacher Madame Morrible (a haughtily fabulous Michelle Yeoh, breezing over any vocal limitations in a cloud of intimidating glamour) spots potential in Elphaba and offers her one-to-one tutoring in the art of enchantment. To the mutual disgust of both girls, Elphaba and Galinda find themselves assigned as roomies.
It’s not just their personalities that clash: the film’s colour palette is at first a battleground between the chlorophyll green of Elphaba’s skin and the candyfloss pink of Galinda’s wardrobe. But visuals that initially seem jarring start to find harmony as the movie progresses. A scene in a forest full of mossy tuffets of vegetation and garlands of delicate, rosy blooms is lush and lovely, one of several notable triumphs for the production design department, led by Nathan Crowley, whose credits include the similarly lavish Wonka. Likewise, Elphaba and Galinda warm to each other and a genuine connection is forged between them.
Both lead actors impress. Erivo is terrific, her rich, velvety voice cracking under the weight of rejections and ridicule suffered by Elphaba; her eyes showing the bruises that her skin cannot. And Grande is supremely well cast. It’s not just the voice: the singer has a vocal range so extensive that some of it is only audible to bats, and she uses every last note of it here. But more crucial is her gift for physical comedy – each flouncy hair toss, each ditsy heel kick, is a precision-tooled punchline.
Elsewhere, Bridgerton’s Jonathan Bailey, as the shallow and self-absorbed Prince Fiyero, skips away with every one of his scenes – in particular, a dizzyingly complex song-and-dance sequence in the college library. Kudos, too, to the choreographer Christopher Scott for dreaming it all up, and to cinematographer Alice Brooks for capturing the magic.
Does it all work? There are moments that get too caught up in their own whirl of CGI pageantry and empty spectacle. And certainly some scenes could be tightened up a little – it’s worth noting that the running time of this first film instalment is longer than the stage version in its entirety. But for the most part, Wicked the movie takes flight and lifts our hearts along with it. We’re caught in the slipstream of Elphaba and her knobbly and uncomfortable-looking broomstick as she whooshes off into the second half of the story.