This was my first time seeing the theatrical juggernaut Wicked. The material doesn’t particularly resonate with me. I find Stephen Schwartz’s music and lyrics catchy enough, but too trite for my taste. Having seen it live, though, in this touring production presented by Mirvish, I can understand its intense popularity. It absolutely is serving! It knows what it is, who its for, and delivers the goods.
Based on Gregory Maguire’s novel, which re-contextualizes the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz by delving into her sympathetic backstory, Winnie Holzman’s book for this musical frequently lands in pantomime territory. There is some fourth wall breaking and many cute little references to the original film—with iconic lines and imagery popping up all over the place.
At Shiz University, blond and popular Glinda (Austen Danielle Bohmer) gets stuck rooming with green-skinned social pariah Elphaba (Lauren Samuels). They don’t like each other and tensions are high. This whole set-up is hokey, very Disney channel, with Glinda at the forefront of the student body’s ostracizing of Elphaba. As bad things start happening in Oz, a love triangle forms between playboy prince Fiyero (Xavier McKinnon), Glinda and Elphaba.
To my astonishment, I fell pretty hard for Fiyero. I felt fourteen years old again as McKinnon’s smile and swagger worked their magic on the duo and me! It isn’t just his bright doe eyes and chiseled jaw-line, McKinnon fully embodies the character’s most endearing aspects—the noble conviction and anti-establishment edge that lurks beneath Fiyero’s charming facade.
When their professor, Doctor Dillamond (Kingsley Leggs), a goat, looses his power of speech and is removed from his teaching position, Elphaba discovers that all Animals in the land are losing their voices and being systematically oppressed—Munchkins too, eventually. The narrative’s socio-political messaging is both blunt and blunted, making for easily digestible family entertainment.
With her growing magical abilities and the pull of her moral compass, Elphaba becomes an activist and seeks out the Wizard of Oz (Blake Hammond) to set things to right, only to discover that he’s a fraud with sinister, fascist plans. Dorothy’s storyline tangentially intersects in the wings as Elphaba becomes the “Wicked Witch,” taking down the Wizard and his cohort, Madame Morrible (Aymee Garcia).
Though a strong friendship blossoms between Glinda and Elphaba, it remains rather fraught—an aspect I appreciate. A villainized crusader and a charismatic figurehead working in tandem, a society fracturing and swarming under their influence, is an intriguing framework for their relationship. I want to see the full beauty and ugliness of that. (Perhaps the novel takes us there. I’m compelled to read it.) Here though, there is a frothy sheen over everything. The leads, however, with their abundant presence and chemistry, drew me in. Bohmer, frequently hilarious, nails Glinda’s extroverted pageantry and Samuels grounds Elphaba’s brooding, conflicted ambition.
Figuring into the story is a plot thread I found especially disquieting: a secondary love triangle between Elphaba’s wheelchair-bound sister, Nessarose (Erica Ito) and an ingratiating Munchkin, Boq (Alex Vinh), who feigns interest in her while pining after Glinda. As Nessarose takes on political power, enslaving Munchkins and trapping him with her, the troubling implications of their dynamic are only grazed by the musical, which isn’t concerned with the psychological complexity or emotional cost of this.
Of course, any of the darkness here is pretty vague and feels designed to give this dazzling musical an edge rather than properly explore any of its themes. As two decades of adoring patrons prove, it offers a persuasive escapist spectacle. And, well, fair enough. My favourite aspect of director Joe Mantello’s production is the lush aesthetic. Eugene Lee’s scenic design is utterly stunning with its motif of oppressive clockwork. Gears grind and propel metallic machinery through the story’s gorgeous environments. Kenneth Posner’s iridescent lighting and Susan Hilferty’s glitzy costumes contribute to some truly compelling atmosphere.
It’s a tad awkward that the show’s famously show stopping number, “Defying Gravity,” such an exhilarating first act closer, is never quite exceeded—or even matched—by anything the second act has to offer. It’s got some tricks up its sleeve, of course, and plenty of satisfying scenes, but I spent so much of the second half intensely aware of the big moment having passed.
Like so much nostalgic, revisionist prequel-ization, Wicked aims to provide context for legend. There are several ah-ha moments as the origin of the Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion and Tin Man are revealed, but it is kinda silly that the Wicked Witch of the West’s hat needs to have a backstory.
Whatever, it’s fine. I had a good time. You already know if you like Wicked. You know what it is, even if just through cultural osmosis. Though your milage may vary, it’s a well-oiled theatrical machine offering exactly what you imagine.