“Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” may be the only song in the history of musical theatre or cinema that openly celebrates the death of a person. The jubilant number follows the watery demise of Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West at the end of The Wizard of Oz, made in the simpler time of 1939, when villains were monoliths of evil, and cheering their deaths seemed appropriate. Making villains more sympathetic through their back stories has been a common thing in the 21st century, but no one got there earlier than Wicked, the 2003 Broadway musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and book by Winnie Holzman, itself an adaptation of a 1995 book by Gregory Maguire.
“Ding Dong” does not feature in Wicked, Jon M. Chu’s film adaptation of the musical, which shares none of the songs with the 1939 film. The memory of it, though, is readily conjured in the film’s opening scene, which takes place just after that witch has been vanquished and the little towns of Oz have started popping the champagne (figuratively speaking). When Glinda the Good (Ariana Grande) arrives in one such village – transported, as is her style, within the thin membrane of a bubble – to confirm the news, she is soon greeted by an effigy of the witch taller than any building in town, which the townspeople proceed to burn. Seeing this burning effigy against the gingerbread and gumdrop appearance of the town square gives you a first preview of exactly how callous this cheering is, and what exactly this Wicked has in store.
Which is so, so much. This is a musical with flair to spare, directed by a man whose previous claim to fame was Crazy Rich Asians, who now must be considered to contain multitudes. (It isn’t his first musical as he also helmed In the Heights.) This is an uproarious comedy featuring one of the funniest screen performances in years, by a woman previously known primarily as a pop singer. This is a fantasy built in a world so thoughtfully considered that you sometimes think you might be in a Harry Potter movie, and if so, it’d be among the best two or three of those. And underneath the delicious top layer of fun, this is an aching consideration of prejudice, of the dangers of fascism, and only a bit more lightly, of the complications of friendship. Oh, and it’s only part 1 of the story, as a title card reveals early on.
That wicked witch had a name, and it was Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo). We learn that she was born with green skin due to a tryst her mother had with some sort of potion-proffering lover, whose face we never see. Her father (Andy Nyman) rejected the infant and raised her only grudgingly, always favouring her younger sister Nessarose (Marissa Bode), whose own birth “abnormality” – she was born without the use of her legs – was apparently not disqualifying for his love. Drawn to black outfits that perhaps reflected her mood, the young Elphaba (played here by Karis Musongole) doted on her sister but could never escape the teasing of neighbourhood kids. She might involuntarily answer this abuse by levitating, and then projecting, rocks in their direction.
When it’s time for Nessarose to go off to prestigious Shiz University to continue her studies, Governor Thropp barks that Elphaba should stay for a bit to help her sister settle in – never once considering Elphaba to be a contender for this sort of education. Here she crosses paths with Glinda, now known as Galinda, an entitled rich girl who confuses her condescending attempts to help the “less fortunate” with actual goodness. After an involuntary display of her powers following the mishandling of her sister by a school administrator, Elphaba catches the eye of Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), the university’s preeminent professor of sorcery, who insists that Elphaba stay and enrol. This is how she ends up in among two dozen suitcases worth of pink, sharing a room with Galinda, who was promised a private suite.
The pairing is not an instant hit, but there are bigger fish to fry – sort of literally. One of the last animal professors at the university – a goat voiced by Peter Dinklage – is being forced out as Oz in general is cracking down on the liberties once freely enjoyed by talking animals. Elphaba is determined to do something about it, and may have an ally in a newly arrived student, the handsome Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey) – though Galinda has her eye on him as well.
If anyone questions the wisdom of a 161-minute movie that is only the first half of the story of a single Broadway show, they need only spend a few minutes in the world-building of Wicked to be convinced otherwise. The section of the film where Elphaba settles in at university is such a delight, it could have run a half-hour longer, even if that necessitated a Wicked: Part 3. The wonderfully staged numbers showcase an enviable economy of storytelling, such that a single song encapsulates all the shrewd observations about social dynamics that another 2024 musical, Mean Girls, spent an entire film trying to convey. One particular song set in a library, involving dancing feet opening and closing and sliding around on books, is a show-stopper.
The film ultimately shifts locations to Emerald City, where there is an occasional moment when you start to feel the familiar “too much CGI” panic rise. Any time that happens, though, another performer comes along to remind you that CG, in its ideal form, is an aid to good storytelling and good performances, not the centrepiece. And once we get to Emerald City, we get a new performer in Jeff Goldblum as The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, joining a cast who are all doing their bit to direct us toward what’s most important in this film.
The two leads are outstanding. If Erivo and Grande were chosen primarily for their pipes, Chu ended up getting so much more from them. Now, Erivo is an acting vet, having appeared in films like Widows and Harriet, so it could have been guessed she’d bring the dramatic chops and occasional comedy her role requires. The pathos she exudes, during one particular scene at a dance, might have your audience drying their eyes. That the actress is Black, playing a woman cast out for her skin colour, adds extra poignancy.
The astounding surprise here is Grande, who was funny in a small role in Don’t Look Up, but otherwise has an IMDB credit list comprised almost exclusively of her own music videos. She conceives of Glinda/Galinda as a self-absorbed brat who is never openly unkind and always a stone’s throw away from redemption, and she executes that conception relentlessly in a manner that produces literally dozens of belly laughs. Specifically, her knack for facial expressions, line deliveries and physical comedy mighty prompt a person to evoke Lucille Ball – never a fair and rarely a deserved comparison, which somehow seems deserved here. The way she flips her hair is, alone, enough to start the giggles.
The relationship of these two is fascinating, and though we haven’t seen part 2 yet, we know it doesn’t end well. Neither character projects simply, but we already know each plays a role in establishing the defining traits of the other. As the wizard says at one point, echoing a sentiment that may sound eerily prescient in 2024, “The best way to unite people is to give them a really good enemy.” Two parts of Elphaba’s iconic outfit are direct gifts from Glinda, and they represent a mixture of both her good intentions and her bad ones.
The biggest hits on Broadway are always conceived as a blend of impressive stagecraft, soaring songs and regular laughter, and it turns out the same thing works in just right the movie — with some smart social commentary as the cherry on top. Wicked the movie did, however, come along at a moment that was in some ways disadvantageous. We’ve gotten a lot of movies where villains were recontextualised. We’ve gotten a lot of musicals that didn’t achieve lift-off. We’ve gotten a lot of CGI injected into properties we loved as children. Lord knows we’ve considered how girls can be mean to each other at school. Heck, Wicked is not even the first revisiting of The Wizard of Oz this century (don’t forget 2013’s Oz the Great and Powerful).
But Wicked the musical was doing these things 20 years ago, before all that. It turns out if you take a great musical and make a great movie out of it, it’s like you’re seeing it all for the first time.
Wicked is currently playing in cinemas.