When thinking of the giants of modern theater, it would be wrong to ignore the impact of shows like Wicked. Based on the eponymous book by Gregory Maguire and inspired by L. Frank Baum’s timeless “The Wizard of Oz,” this earworm-packed production has inspired audiences for two decades now, presenting a world of witches that far exceeds what anyone knew. With every inch of the stage designed with shameless spectacle, Wicked quickly became the epitome of what could be achieved on a stage, dazzling with technical ingenuity and singing feats that include the showstopping classic “Defying Gravity.” The journey of two unlikely friends became an endearing masterpiece, finding everyone relating to the comic airheaded kindness of Galinda and the awkward outsider charm of Elphaba.
The Segerstrom Center for the Arts recently featured a touring production that lived up to all expectations. Considering that the theater was still following mask protocols, it was exciting to be in a room where everyone knew the music, cheering on the actors as they arrived on stage. The theater was packed and laughter was plenty. While many can poke holes in the greater story, one thing remains true: Wicked’s best attributes have a timeless quality to them. The craft on display speaks for itself, standing out as one of the most eccentric, detailed blockbuster shows of the millennium. Stephen Schwartz’s songbook deftly swings between silly numbers about animosity to the underlying sadness of being considered an outcast for one’s whole life.
When arriving at the theater, the lavishness is already on display. On the stage is a map detailing the many landscapes of Oz that audiences think they know. Overhead is a man-operated dragon puppet whose eyes light up, jerking with life during key moments of the show. As a series of flying monkeys turn a crank, the curtain opens and the show opens with “No One Mourns the Wicked.” A wandering choir sings with condemning force. The only thing to pop the overbearing melancholic bubble is Galinda (Allison Bailey), dropped in her own aerial carriage. The fourth wall is broken for the first (but not the last) time as she instructs some unseen force to lower her onto the stage.
From there the show becomes a dizzying mix of tones thanks to two leads that embody a conventional teen comedy with some magical twists. Galinda is the popular girl, whose Reese Witherspoon/valley girl-adjacent persona mixes a know-it-all confidence with a naivety that’s easy to love. She’s the type of person who turns “Ga-linda, the Ga is silent” into a recurring gag, believing that her slightly different name makes her special. Meanwhile, Elphaba (Talia Suskauer) is a green-skinned witch with intellectual gifts and a tragic backstory that includes a disabled sister Nessarose (Amanda Fallon Smith), and a journey that grows increasingly tragic. It’s no spoiler to share that this is the origin story of The Wicked Witch of the West: a title she doesn’t earn so much as has thrust upon her.
Even if one is well-versed in Baum’s original work, there’s enough creative license here to make for an entertaining spectacle. Every scene is packed with incredible costume work, where dozens of background actors each wear different costumes and various props have elaborate technical effects that make for fun throwaway moments. By the time that she gets to The Emerald City, the audience will be overwhelmed with awe, finding so many different elements crossing the stage that it’s best to just get lost in the big emotion, finding joy in the craft of big budgeted theater. Even as Elphaba meets The Wizard (David Scott Purdy), the stage keeps the audience entranced not only in the central conversation, but additional props and actors who wander the stage in an acrobatic fashion.
While the second act may not be nearly as acclaimed as the first, there is something striking about how bold it is, where the idea of female friendship grows and changes as social pressures are placed upon them. The chemistry between the leads is especially integral to what makes the show work. As the despair kicks in, each character has evocative revelations, landing on something visceral and revealing how damaging scapegoat culture can be. It’s a moral quandary, and one whose overbearing sadness is only matched by a grandeur that is ridiculous and fun. Campy moments like an actor inexcusably entering via a swinging vine balance the show, making for an experience that feels just as wonderful and worldly. On the stage, Oz is a place of endless possibility, and it’s a show that rewards both enjoying it for what it is and just letting the power of sweet-hearted moments like the excellent “Dancing Through Life” number wash over.
Among the biggest shows to hit Broadway in the 21st century, few feel as crucial to the shift as Wicked. It’s a very modern take on the medium, where it deconstructs art while creating an insightful and original work within what is known. It creates two compelling leads that defy conventional narratives while featuring one of the catchiest songbooks of its era. As the overture kicks in, there’s a good chance that Schwartz’s music will get lodged permanently in one’s head, already anticipating the spectrum of potential. It’s a show that lives on sincerity but isn’t afraid to go big and brash, creating art that appeals to the masses and simultaneously creating the next few generations of theater kids.
Considering that Wicked is currently scheduled for a movie adaptation, it’s easy to understand why this show has remained so omnipresent. The characters are iconic, having a place in theater history that sets them apart. They transcend their mythic stance in favor of a story that reflects their humanity, asking why one is considered good and the other wicked simply because of public perception. There has to be more to the story. Luckily this is one of those shows that doesn’t get wrapped up in its own gimmickry and fails to prove a bigger point. There is a purpose to the story, where happiness can exist alongside darkness and present a complicated, familiar view of life. Many shows have tried to adapt old properties to the stage with as much commercial appeal and diversity as Wicked, but few have had this level of success. It’s a story that takes some incredible creative risks, embracing kitsch as well as heart. It’s everything that theater could be when it came out, now, and well into the future. It’s best to see it for yourself and have the crowd usher you into their personal fandom with them.
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