This review is riddled with spoilers.

On a dark autumn evening many moons ago, I walked into a local pub to attend a freshers’ social for my university’s musical theatre society. I bought a drink from the bar and sat down at one of the tables where the group was gathered. Finishing his conversation, an older member turned to me and said ‘So, what’s your favourite musical?’ Before I could answer, he continued, ‘And don’t say Wicked.’ 

This struck me as being weirdly confrontational in terms of starting a conversation with a stranger – especially one you’d in theory like to join your university society – and that meant it rather stumped me as a question. I have no memory of how I answered. I probably said Hairspray, the first show I saw that I learnt all the words to (from the booklet included with the CD.) Pre-Hamilton, Wicked was probably the default Theatre Kid Pick for a favourite musical. It’s so distinct and idiosyncratic, with exciting and catchy songs by Stephen Schwartz, touching on the challenges of friendship, feeling excluded and gaining self-confidence; all themes a musical-obsessed teen might resonate with and carry with affection into adulthood. The soundtrack featuring the original Broadway leads, Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, is a masterpiece, and their unique and incredibly expansive voices make it even more vivid and memorable. 

I had seen Wicked in 2008 – in fact it’s possible I may have seen Idina Menzel when she reprised her role in London, but I can’t remember the exact date – and found it to be quite an odd show. It’s broadly a prequel to The Wizard of Oz, and follows Elphaba Thropp (later to become the Wicked Witch of the West), a gifted but untrained witch who is ostracised for being green. She joins Shiz University, meeting and eventually befriending Glinda (later to become the Good Witch) and dreams of meeting the Wizard and being embraced for her individuality. The show ends by joining up with the Wizard of Oz narrative as the now evil Elphaba is melted by Dorothy (or so she thinks.) It was a prequel before prequels were fashionable, and despite receiving mixed reviews, went on to win four Tonys (including Best Actress for Menzel, up against Chenoweth who was nominated in the same category) and becoming the second highest grossing Broadway show of all time, second to The Lion King.

I don’t remember a great deal of the stage show to be honest, and any memories I may have had of the most famous songs being performed live have been almost entirely subsumed by watching online clips and listening to the Broadway recording. But I do remember thinking that it became much weirder and almost operatic in the second half, with the songs being more ominous and less memorable (with the exception of For Good), and Glinda and Elphaba being separated. Their enemies-to-friends storyline is easily the most compelling element of the whole narrative, and the second half, when they’re mostly apart and there’s more focus on the other storylines, felt considerably more strained. This is primarily because the show has to squidge all the characters and their backstories in place for the Wizard of Oz storyline to join up with the narrative at the end, and also because the vast majority of the most famous and beloved songs are in the first act. I also felt the ending was a bit of an annoying cop-out, but I’ll save analysing that for my review of Part 2.

The fact that there’s even going to be a Part 2 is somewhat bonkers in itself. The Act I closer ‘Defying Gravity,’ is musically engineered and narratively timed to perfection to conclude the first half, and it would be a struggle for any film to resume the story without the break a stage intermission provides. But the second half of the show is much more laboured and doesn’t lend itself to being an independent narrative. I listened to a podcast which suggested that Wicked: Part I is for the fans ie. embracing the songs and humour, and Wicked: Part II (now announced as Wicked: For Good) is for director Jon M. Chu, ie. heavy on reflecting his love of The Wizard of Oz. Time will tell as to whether a) this is right and b) that will make for a good sequel or standalone film. It’s also very funny and completely bonkers that Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, the film’s Glinda and Elphaba, do not get to escape from wearing pink, princessy, Glinda-adjacent outfits and green, edgy, Elphaba-adjacent outfits until November 2025 when Part II is released, or possibly even until the end of awards season for the second part. (They began in March of this year.) Thoughts and prayers also go out at this time to Grande’s hairstylist as they then try to disguise and heal the damage to her hair from three years of bleaching it to death, because she has committed to the aesthetic of the role despite wearing wigs throughout the actual film.

Wicked Part I‘s release has really dominated pop culture coverage in past few weeks if you spend too much time on that area of the Internet, like I do. Endless trailers, clips and behind the scenes footage was drip-fed by the studio to the hoardes of slavering fans (then divvied up and re-edited and compiled into a whirlpool of TikToks ‘All clips of Ariana singing!’, ‘Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba battlecry!’, ‘The way she says hello to everyone on the way to set ADORABLE QUEEN’ etc etc.) Erivo and Grande were roundly mocked for being constantly and improbably on the verge of tears in every interview. This wasn’t particularly a surprise to me, because the audition process alone sounded prolonged and exhausting – let alone the filming and press tour – but also because if there’s one thing about theatre kids, it’s that they Care So Much. It’s earnest, it’s somewhat annoying, and it unfortunately is extremely sincere.

The funniest moment – and the most sincere – in fact came from a journalist, Tracy E. Gilchrist from Out magazine, when she tearfully told the film’s stars that people  were really ‘holding space,’ for the lyrics of Defying Gravity. It was made all the funnier by Grande grasping Erivo’s index finger like she was about to float out of her chair (defying gravity.) Full credit to the latter for responding with similarly emotive gratitude, even though she and Grande both later admitted they were as confused as anyone by the statement.

Tracey is very much holding space for capitalising off this viral moment.

A less funny and more depressing moment came when Erivo, probably feeling under pressure with the strain of starring in a high profile film and flying round the world for an exhausting press tour, took huge offence at a fan for editing the film’s poster to look more like the Broadway original. You can catch up on that here. Needless to say, the worst people on the internet rushed onto the scene to say various versions of ‘I preferred the stage show anyway. I was thinking about going to see this, but she’s so melodramatic and self-centred! Now I’ve been put right off!’ Famously, most high-profile actors are down-to-earth everyperson types who have a strong tether to reality. Also, if they’re not, their job requires them to convincingly pretend to be someone else, sometimes even a character who has low self-esteem or is polite despite being in a high-pressure work environment – or both!

I’m not saying Cynthia Erivo is a diva, but even if she was, her job is pretending not to be, and being insufferable in real life and/or horrible to underlings has not stopped many actors getting work. Giving people grace for doing Instagram stories without thinking is not the internet’s strong suit, and getting one’s moral superiority kick from loudly proclaiming that People Are All Just Wet Wipes These Days and not seeing a film you weren’t fussed about seeing anyway isn’t the win they think it is. It’s also worth noting the pressure Erivo is under in her most commercial film role yet, particularly as a black actress and alongside a veteran of worldwide fame like Grande (insert joke about the latter’s long history of blackfishing here.) On that note, the biggest UK newspapers, which you would think would want to show off a British actress at the premiere of her culture-dominating film in the starring role, all opted to put solo photos of Grande on their front covers.

God, I’m exhausted. After a tight 1300 words, we are onto the actual film. There are many many more hours of content and think pieces out there if you want to delve into any of the above further. I’ve already watched and listened to far too much, and there are podcasts and YouTube channels out there getting endless mileage out of it all; ‘Here’s Why Wicked Won’t Work On Film,’ ‘A Guide to the Wicked Drama,’ ‘A Guide to the Wicked Drama: The Press Tour,’ ‘Wicked: Spoiler-Free Review!’, ‘Wicked: Review (with Spoilers!!!)’ (I’m not holding space for the Ariana Grande-Ethan Slater drama, but his ex-wife’s excellent article on the subject is available here. I also don’t have anything worth adding to the ‘Ariana Grande-is-dangerously-thin-and-so-is-Cynthia-Erivo-actually-while-I-think-about-it’ discourse.) 

In summary, I walked into the cavernous Showcase Avonmeads (‘Howcse’ according to the remaining letters) cinema feeling somewhat flooded with information and doubtful about whether I would actually be able to be disconnect and watch the film on its own merits. I accidentally booked some sort of VIP booth, up a level on the right of the cinema, which made me feel not unlike Glinda in her bubble at the beginning of the film. 

Following a gazillion ads, the most horrific of which was two sparkly green and pink Samsung Galaxy phones talking/singing a reworked Wicked song (I forget which in my rage) about AI on the yellow brick road, the film finally began. With a bearably minimal amount of fuss – no pretending this isn’t a musical – we launch straight into the first song, ‘No One Mourns the Wicked,’ sung by Glinda (Grande), giving the audience an insight into the life of the recently deceased’s Wicked Witch of the West, as she admits to her subjects having known her when they were young(er).

Flashing back in time, we meet a not-yet wicked Elphaba (Erivo) a young witch who is Green and Therefore Different (subtlety is not the name of the game here) when she is born (to widespread horror), Grows Up Bullied, and then arrives at Shiz University, staying after her distant father pressures her to stay to look after her beloved disabled sister Nessa (Marissa Bode). Elphaba’s unharnessed but powerful magic leads to the offer of a place from Dean of Sorcery Studies, Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), who is inexplicably a permanent faculty member despite only periodically privately tutoring outstandingly gifted students when they happen to turn up (not my point, but I can’t remember which podcast/video I saw laughing about this.)

Elphaba soon meets Glinda (Grande), who is Very Pale And Notably Not Green, popular(la), and spoiled – plus both her parents are alive and like her. They immediately clash, even more so when they’re forced to room together. The songs come thick and fast, the most famous and interesting being ‘The Wizard and I’ (Elphaba fantasises about where her magic can take her) and ‘What is this Feeling?’ (the two leads realise they hate each other.) ‘The Wizard and I,’ one of my favourites, suffers slightly from ‘We Are On Film and Therefore Must Use Many Sets As Fast As Possible Syndrome,’ but Erivo’s voice is singular and gorgeous. ‘What is This Feeling,’ is great fun, and takes advantage of the medium through jump cuts and split screens to enhance the song and create a snappy, fresh take on it, with sharp and exciting choreography.

I struggled with ‘Dancing Through Life,’ another of my favourite songs, because of some odd directorial choices. In the original, it’s a long but pacey song in which a lot happens, including the audience being introduced to Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey) and Glinda sidestepping a munchkin, Boq (Ethan Slater, ironic-look-to-camera)’s, advances and setting him up with a thrilled Nessa. On film, it’s a bit more of a challenge to get across all the narrative that happens. We start out in the Shiz library, as Fiyero introduces himself and his philosophy (‘Stop studying strife/And learn to live the unexamined life.’) Bailey, the Internet’s Boyfriend, is excellently cast as Fiyero. His heartthrob Bridgerton years – just like Ryan Gosling’s years of pin-up roles pre-Barbie – have primed him for this himbo role. Fiyero comes on the scene as a late addition to Shiz, where he has effortless chemistry with everyone, but is immediately pursued by Glinda. There are some fun touches during the number, like the ensemble bobbing down as one and copying his dance moves, but it’s so oddly shot and heavily backlit by the giant library window it’s sometimes hard to see the leads and their expressions. Nessa is asked out, and then back in their shared room, Glinda pranks Elphaba by giving her her grandmother’s ugly hat to wear to the Ozdust ballroom party, where she appears to laughter. She moves into the middle of the room and dances deliberately and silently until Glinda is moved to join in, and they dance together, officially transitioning from enemies to friends. Obviously this silent period is not included in the Broadway cast soundtrack and I’d completely forgotten about it; I’m not sure if it’s as long in the stage version, but it was so prolonged that I found it excruciating, despite Erivo’s raw and heartrending depiction of Elphaba’s humiliation. (I will admit to being British though.)

The music then picks up again and everyone dances together for a final reprise, but not for the final time, the length of the gap severely impacts the momentum. This was one of the less successful adapted numbers musically too, having been made lighter and less stirring. We then move onto ‘Popular,’ which also slightly plays with the original score, but much more successfully – and Grande has great fun with Glinda’s flighty, hyper physicality as she jumps around their room, in an excellently foamy, floaty pink dress by costume designer Paul Tazewell. In general, it’s worth saying that Glinda is easily the more fun and exciting role – even though she gets less stage time – as detailed below by Clara, who writes the excellent culture blog ‘Hmm That’s Interesting‘, in which she also quotes a review of the original stage production by Ben Brantley:

While the audience is already predisposed to like Glinda, Grande’s natural wit and many years wringing humour out of painful Nickelodeon punchlines have made this a role she was made for. Hers is a more feathery, ephemeral interpretation – both in voice and acting – than Chenoweth, and she’s best when she embraces her deeper register rather than her familiar lighter pop tones. The role was written with the former in mind, and her operatic training and singular comic inflections makes it harder than the Elphaba role to either mimic or put one’s own stamp on. It’ll be interesting to see how Grande’s interpretation evolves in the more emotionally complex, less fun, second half – and how the inevitable awards run shakes out in terms of distribution. This is also true of Fiyero, who again in common with Ken in Barbie, is also able to count on the audience’s immediate affection without having to carry the weight of the Moral High Ground, like Barbie/Elphaba.

In the press tour, there was considerable emphasis by director Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians, In the Heights) on the commitment to real sets – such as a real and enormous tulip field – and the world of Shiz looks convincingly tangible yet majestic. In order to make it magical, however, it is peppered with CGI animals and insects, most notably Dr Dillemon (Peter Dinklage.) I wished that Chu had had the confidence to take a leaf out of Greta Gerwig’s depiction of Barbieland, and had fully committed to a a less realist, more vivid version of Oz, with actors in animal costumes as opposed to CGI. This is also might’ve made the peppering of Ozian language less jarring. One of the few complaints about the film from fans was about the colour grading; Chu responded that he wanted Oz, and the relationships and characters in it, to feel real in a way that wouldn’t have been possible if it mimicked the Technicolour of the film. This seems like a fundamental misunderstanding of the power of good writing and characterisation to make an audience empathise with a narrative despite the setting, but then I haven’t directed multiple films. It is worth saying that since it’s now not technically possible to make Technicolour films, any amount of colour would probably have not been enough for some fans, but it adds to the lack of momentum as the added scenes and content tot up the runtime. It all feels a little bland and forgettable, even in the rich and expansive Emerald City scenes; your eyes are always on the main cast rather than the world around them.

It’s a sign of the staying power of Glinda and Elphaba’s friendship and associated songs that I’d actually forgotten the entire subplot of the film; there’s a conspiracy to stop the animals in Oz from speaking, and their teacher Dr Dillamond (Peter Dinklage) is removed from the school as a result. Elphaba, who again is Green and Therefore Other, immediately feels a kinship with their plight. When she and Glinda go to the Emerald City (‘One Short Day’), they discover the oppression goes right to the top. From being an ensemble piece, the two of them are alone very fast and things take a turn for the emotionally intense and action-packed; Erivo anchors the action nobly, but it is quite a jarring tonal change as we build to the end song, ‘Defying Gravity.’ The medium also lays bare the lack of real complexity and nuance in the Wizard’s General Fascist Agenda, which is less noticeable onstage. 

I’d read a review from someone who said that while they found portions of the film frustrating, all was forgotten when it came to Elphaba’s barnstorming final song. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the same experience. The song keeps being broken up by action and dramatic pauses, which really killed its momentum; much like ‘And I’m Telling You,’ from Dreamgirls, it’s perfectly designed to build to an emotional peak pre-interval, show the protagonist’s transformation ahead of the next act, and display the full extent of its performer’s vocal prowess. The most annoying part for me was when Glinda is being restrained by the Wizard’s guards, and Elphaba yells ‘It’s me you want. It’s me!’ before falling from the sky almost to the ground, having a vision of her childhood self (what is this, The Crown season six?) before rocketing back up to the sky on her broom and singing ‘It’s meeee!’ The pause was so elongated it took me a second to remember what she was singing about. In the stage show, Elphaba, high up on a customised cherry picker, belts the final note before a dramatic cut to black; I wished Chu had also done a hard cut rather than adding a few more seconds of Elphaba flying towards the horizon, backed by the ensemble’s vocals. The extra few seconds of flying – while vocally pursued by the masses of Oz – and the accompanying sense of her self-actualising and entering the unknown with purpose, just unnecessarily spoonfeeds us the takeaway narrative of the song, just like the shots of Glinda and Madam Morrible going back down the staircase together, after we’ve already seen Glinda return her embrace.

Reflecting on the film as a whole and listening to the soundtrack, it feels like the latter is actually the best takeaway from it. While fans of Grande will find it incredibly exciting to see her in a major film role, and Erivo and Bailey are both surely on paths to superstardom after years of graft, it is their voices and charisma that made the film remotely memorable. In many ways, the main plot is too thin for a film adaptation. Hearing new vocal interpretations – despite the endless riffing – and Stephen Schwartz’s musical tweaks to his original score are for me, the most interesting takeaways from this version. In many ways, I think this is applicable to the whole film; it’s an interesting riff on an stage classic, but not a patch on it. Let’s say a prayer for Part II.