Growing up in a land devoid of musicals that were the hallmark of everything Disney and magical did not deprive me of a fondness for Broadway. It also did not rob me of making sure the giants of Broadway legend were on my bucket list. I may have learned of them later, what with being across the world and whatnot, but my enthusiasm for them was never small. For a very long time, “Wicked” has topped that list for me. Perhaps it was through the new version of Oz, or Lea Michele’s obsession with the musical and the vocally brilliant performance of “Defying Gravity” again and again that I discovered it; I don’t quite remember anymore. What I do know, though, is that finally seeing “Wicked” Thursday at the Overture Center defied all my expectations.
The brilliance of “Wicked” is that you’re not just simply sitting there and watching yet another Broadway classic. There are many things ratcheting together at the same time. There’s the excitement of finally watching a musical that has been hailed as spectacular for over the past decade. There’s anticipation for learning more of a tale that is a quotable classic in every yellow brick way. And then there’s the surety that you will walk away having experienced something truly inspired. The last one is only truly felt at the end because it changes your perspective of a tale you’ve known since your childhood and you find yourself identifying with a villain who you have hated, while secretly respecting her cackle.
I was lucky enough to have gone into “Wicked” without knowing the story of it. I knew the universe and the characters, but I was blissfully, and thankfully, unaware of the things we unlearn from Dorothy’s original tale. Gregory Maguire took an iconic story and did something strange with it in 1995. He made it even more iconic by giving it the kind of heart and spirit that allows a story to survive on Broadway, and show no signs of ever dying out, in his novel “Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West.”
On the face of this musical is a stellar performance, beautiful sets and songs that have tugged at all of us for years. It is laugh-out-loud funny and grin-and-bear-it funny at the same time. It has the kind of magic and warmth usually only seen in original Disney productions and yet has so much more beyond the surface. It makes you think what it truly means to be wicked, how living in a world that worships conformity and conventional beauty soon reduces us to cruelty toward anyone who may be even the slightest bit different than us. It may be set in a land of talking animals and green people, but the rejection and scorn towards what we cannot comprehend and neatly control is no different than the kind exhibited around us.
Discovering the history behind the true “goodness” of Glinda the Good makes her more human and less saint. Being unapologetically vapid and narcissistic, Carrie St. Louis perfectly executes the sheer lack of depth and character the good witch has. Concerned with nothing more than goodness simply for the sake of being worshipped by others, she does not understand much more than her perfectness. Or so it’s at first. St. Louis also exhibits Glinda’s growth into someone who finally understands the meaning of being good. With her cringeworthy shrill giggles and the precious moments of no pretense, she shone in “Popular” to the extent that never have I enjoyed a song within a musical more.
Learning the story of the Wicked Witch of the West, who instead of portraying wickedness, is simply searching for where she truly belongs in the world, is heartwarming and unexpected. Rejected since she was a baby for being different and “green,” Elphaba has never allowed that to break her spirit or ruin the great courage she possesses. Alyssa Fox truly exhibits Elphaba’s disenchantment with everything that she believed and had faith in. Witnessing the dissolution of her black-and-white morals into grey areas, where sometimes lines have to be crossed to fix and prevent greater wrongs, is no less familiar than watching a rogue vigilante lose and then find their way again to a greater purpose. Of course, Fox and her flawless pipes know how to belt out songs to truly do them justice.
More than simply the lessons of acceptance, individuality and love, the heart of the musical for me was friendship. What Glinda and Elphaba grow to mean to each other is what legendary bonds of friendships are made of. Moving past the green skin, the pink dresses and blonde hair, they manage to accept and love one another for who the other really is. And they do so accompanied with great music, some magic, a healthy dose of redemption, courage and a neatly wrapped surprise happy ending. With all this, I wouldn’t mind such wickedness either.
