‘Wicked: For Good’ Is Stuffed With Straw But All The Better For It

The expansive two-part journey of the retelling of the beloved Wicked stage musical has finally come to a grand conclusion in Jon M. Chu’s Wicked: For Good. And at what cost? With the weight of the poorly received second act of the stage musical haunting this adaptation at every turn, Chu and the crew had heavy lifting to do to make this new endeavor as much of a rousing success as the film’s highly praised predecessor, Wicked: Part I. 

To quote Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo) herself, “We can’t let good just be a word. It has to mean something. It has to change things.” For the most part, Elphaba’s words ring true for the grand finale film. Chu and his co-writing duo, Dana Fox and Winnie Holzman (Holzman also adapted the stage musical), manage to land an epic and heartbreakingly tender conclusion to one of the most dynamic friendships in pop culture history; it’s just a shame that the film travels a bumpy yellow brick road to get there. 

The plot is loaded, but simple enough. Wicked: For Good takes place about a year or so later. Elphaba never returned to Shiz University after her trip to the Emerald City with Glinda (Ariana Grande), during which she learned that the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) and Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) were lowkey behind animal discrimination and displacement across all of Oz. Choosing to fight against the powers that be instead of succumbing to them like her bestie in pink, Elphaba flees the city and lives in hiding on the outskirts of Munchkinland. Now demonized as the Wicked Witch of the West, Elphaba dedicates herself to plotting the Wizard’s downfall by, among other things, stopping the use of animal slave labor to build the infamous yellow brick road and trying to inform the citizens of Oz about their fraudulent leader. 

Meanwhile, Glinda is living a cushy life as the mouthpiece for all things good on behalf of the Wizard in the Emerald City. Tasked with being a beacon of light for the frightened citizens of Oz, Glinda has finally found what she thinks is her life’s purpose: a sweet penthouse suite, all the praise a girl can get, and the world’s sexiest fiancé in Fiyero Tigelaar (Jonathan Bailey). However, the paths both women attempt to travel are marked by an intricate blend of triumph and troubling consequences for themselves and those around them. 

You see, Glinda must learn how to dismantle her privilege and face the harsh realities of the world head-on. In contrast, Elphaba must learn that trying to radically uproot a corrupt system is a nearly insurmountable task when done all alone. (In my opinion, Elphaba gets the shorter end of the stick when all is said and done, especially if you consider that a Black woman portrays her.)  The darker thematic agenda of For Good, like its staged counterpart, proves to be too dense for this cinematic adaptation to satisfactorily unpack. A unique combination of circumstances burdens the film due to the material’s convolution from its Broadway origins, and perhaps Chu and company’s trepidation to stray from or add to the source material in a way that could have packed a more potent punch. 

However, even with that said, there are still a lot of fun moments, introspective musical numbers, and riveting performances that sustain an uneven ride. Let’s get into it. 

For Good 

The best of the film’s wobbly yet endearing moments are saved by the strong, emotionally resonant performances of Erivo and Grande. Both heighten the dynamics of their characters in a more intimate way than their Broadway counterparts can. 

Erivo imbues Elphaba with both a fervency of frustration and the delicate vulnerabilities of a woman experiencing first love (“As Long As You’re Mine”) and significant loss. As the green witch’s attempts to seek justice are constantly thwarted until she hits a breaking point (“No Good Deed”), Erivo’s evocative vocal register and the command of her body spellbindingly compel the viewer to take note that this is not the same Elphaba Thropp we’ve seen just a year prior. No, this Elphaba is going scorched earth to all who stand in her way.

Grande, on the other hand, has her dramatic work cut out for her as she soars beyond the bubble-gum cage that Part I purposefully traps her in. Glinda’s arc toward selflessness relies solely on Grande’s believability as she walks an incredibly nuanced and emotional tightrope, trying to deconstruct the persona of the Good Witch’s need for perfection (“Thank Goodness”) and Glinda’s struggle to find her own agency (“The Girl in the Bubble”).

The women do spend a generous amount of time apart (thankfully, though, not as much as the stage musical), but in the moments they do get together onscreen, the individual polishing of their characters comes together in a remarkably complimentary way. This is especially evident in the pièce de résistance, which the film title takes its name from, “For Good.” Both women have to tap into a vulnerable place where their characters express deep regrets toward each other and for their actions in general, while reconciling their friendship just as it’s coming to an end. During various interviews, Chu, Grande and Erivo have stated just how devastating the scene was to film on set. It’s not hard to see why, as both actors softly sing through streams of tears in real time as they confess their — improvised — “I Love You’s,” further cementing Elphaba and Glinda’s relationship as everlasting and irrevocably life-changing. 

A Man Made of Straw 

Let Wicked: Part I and Wicked: For Good perhaps serve as a future example of what not to do when casting Bailey as a featured player in the next big movie or franchise. As aforementioned, logic and depth mostly go to hell in Act II of the Wicked stage musical, mainly because of the ties the show insists on making to the Wizard of Oz film canon. But none of the brainless logic goes to the hottest, deepest pit of hell for more than that of the hopelessly romantic and underutilized Fiyero, who also transforms into the Scarecrow (but more on this later). Before attempting to tackle this, the first thing I’ll say is: Bailey is innocent. Making pitchers of lemonade from freeze-dried lemons, Bailey gave all his notorious yearning and besotted facial expressions to playing the anti-intellectual playboy turned radicalized lover to the baddest witch in Oz. Without much meat to chew on between both films, he impressively manages to dig deep to show just how much encountering the woman of his heart’s desire can change a man for good. 

Fiyero’s brevity between the two films might be my only argument against the otherwise truly brilliant plan that Universal and Chu made to release Part I and For Good back-to-back. My reason for this is not plot structure, not entirely, anyway, as the narrative is fine, it’s that I can’t help but think if they did film the traditional way with a break between movies before filming the next installment, would fan outcry have reached their ears about tweaking more story changes? The only recent behemoth musical I can compare this to is Frozen and Frozen II. In hiring Jonathan Groff to play Anna’s adorkable love interest Kristoff, fans of the first film took to the social media streets flummoxed that one of Broadway’s most talented spitter singers only had one 50-second song in a movie. Taking fan comments into consideration, Frozen II introduced Kristoff’s verses in songs with Elsa and Anna, a reprise, and his own 3-minute song. I just can’t help but wonder if spacing the movies out would have helped develop new, expansive ideas. 

In the mere week of For Good’s release, Chu and company revealed that there were more plans for Fiyero and Elphaba, Fiyero and Glinda, and Fiyero as the Scarecrow (Fiyercrow, as the fandom calls him). Considering how his role in the story causes another rift in the friendship between the two women, in addition to the love he shares with Elphaba that encourages her to leave Oz altogether, you’d think there would be more padding to flesh some of this out. A verse for him in “Every Day More Wicked” or “Thank Goodness” or maybe even a new song of his own. But I digress. 

By focusing only on what we did get in the theatrical cut, there’s still plenty that Bailey, Chu, and the writers left for viewers to feast on. The “As Long As You’re Mine” sequence is the most changed for both Elphaba and Fiyero’s characters. Even though the prelude to the sensual duet is lacking in some serious preamble that could flush out the journey both characters have been on since we’ve last since them (ie: Fiyero literally running off and joining the Gale Force, Fiyero still thinking about her, Elphaba still thinking about him or any of Elphaba’s inner dialogue and worries about what has transpired before this moment) the pair are nevertheless rising above the stilted material and drenching with chemistry as Erivo and Bailey play the scene like a coy cat and mouse game. At Elphaba’s forest hideaway, the once suave Fiyero, like Elphaba, is now full of trepidation as they try to express the secretly kept desire in both their hearts since their time together at Shiz University: they wanna f—k. And honestly, who can blame them? Because of the PG rating, things can’t get as steamy as the stage version. Still, because Erivo and Bailey play off each other so well, they know precisely how to entangle their bodies to suggestively express a devouring of heart, mind and soul. 

Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to say about Bailey’s turn as the Scarecrow. Any further insight into his transformation and his new journey with the Wizard of Oz gang, and his former schoolmate Boq, or the lion cub he saved with Elphaba, is not given to us. On stage, this lack of texturization can be more easily passed over, but in film, the glaring plot contrivances rear their head. 

You Wanna Hear A Story About How Elphaba And This Bitch, Glinda, Fell Out? It’s Kinda Long, But It’s Full Of Suspense.

Just hovering a few paces over the “For Good” ending sequence is this final exchange between Glinda, Elphaba and Fiyero. Following the death of Nessarose (Marissa Bode), after Madame Morrible sends Dorothy’s farmhouse in a cyclone to kill her, Glinda sends the homesick farm girl off to see the Wizard, in Nessarose’s shoes, in the hope that he’ll grant her wish. Sure, why not? In comes Elphaba, invigorated by the previous moment of passion with Fiyero, to whoop Glinda’s ass. (And rightfully so, as Glinda is a suggestible conspirator in the death of Nessarose.) A corny, but fun, girl fight ensues between the women as Elphaba gloats about Fiyero’s lack of commitment to Glinda. And once all is said and done, Oz’s Gale Force has come to at last capture the Wicked Witch of the West. It’s the meat of what comes next that makes this section of the movie outweigh most of the emotional character beats that come before and follow soon after. 

Unable to heed Elphaba’s pleas to stay away from Munchkinland as she tries to unravel the tragic passing of her sister at the hands of the Wizard, Morrible, and Glinda, Fiyero comes barreling in, disheveled clothes and unkempt hair to boot, to save her no matter the cost. As he calculates the monumental dangers the guards can inflict on Elphaba, Glinda realizes this is the first time she’s seen her former fiancé since he left their wedding. At the same time, Elphaba cycles through the anger from the betrayal of her friend to the fear of her newly minted lover putting his life in danger for hers. For all the film’s shaky ground, I give Chu credit for the way he lays out medium and close-up shots to encapsulate the nuanced portrayals of devastation across the faces of Bailey, Erivo and Grande. 

While Erivo and Grande get their most tenderly distressing moments in the “For Good” sequence, Bailey gets time to devastatingly shine here in a way that “As Long As You’re Mine” understandably does not allow. Fiyero, in a last-ditch and desperate effort to save Elphaba from being carted away to be imprisoned, threatens to end Glinda’s life. Shakily pointing his gun at her face, he demands with all the courage he can muster that the guards, “let the green girl go.” The guards do as Fiyero says, but even he knows that his act of valor has grave consequences. He warns the stunned Elphaba to flee, “No, not without you,” she says behind misty eyes. Then he demands that she leave at once. Bailey and Erivo communicate a few tender seconds of love and loss before Elphaba lets down her walls of defenses and leaves without so much as a word to Glinda. 

Like Bailey, who must infuse so much emotion into sparse dialogue, Grande must process a series of emotions in a matter of seconds. Through a series of close-ups, Bailey and Grande’s faces flicker through patterns of regret, grief, and understanding in a way that their time together during “Thank Goodness” can’t quite connect. Fiyero and Glinda have to process the possibility that this might be the last time they ever see each other. Glinda, especially, as it’s the first time she has to confront the truth of what Elphaba said just moments before. Fiyero loves Elphaba so much that he was willing to feign putting her life in danger and thereby putting his own in danger just to buy her a shot at freedom. As this realization sets in and she speaks the truth aloud to everyone, Fiyero crumbles under the weight of it. He’s never said the words himself to Elphaba, and perhaps now, he never will. Bailey carries the weight of this devastation in the control of his eyes, the slack in his jaw and the furrow of his brow as he delivers an apology to Glinda for his inability to be honest about his love for Elphaba sooner. Grande beautifully melts into this moment as she wails in horror when Fiyero is dragged off to be tortured by the very soldiers she surrounds herself with in the Emerald City.  

If the film had consistent character anchors like this, it would be all the better for it. Overall, Wicked: For Good is an entertaining time at the movies. Hiccups be damned, there’s still plenty of treasures to mine repeatedly just from the cast’s stellar performances alone.

Left Along the Yellow Brick Road 

Some stray observations that I couldn’t get into the review without making this a 20-page essay, but should get some mentions: 

• Glinda having dominion over the Grimmiere, very nice! A great moment for the film adaptation. 

• “The Girl in the Bubble” is a superior thematic song that showcases Glinda’s inner turmoil in a way the stage show cannot do effectively outside of “Thank Goodness.” Glinda forces herself to be an advocate for justice and fairness throughout Oz after sending the Wizard packing and Morrible to jail—powerful moments for Glinda as a character.

• Elphaba singing about not leaving your home (“No Place Like Home”), no matter if others try to push you out, and then leaving her home at the end of the movie is a bit silly.
  
•  Also, it grinds my gears that all of the rage built up in March of the Witch Hunters kind of results in nothing. In the stage show, I understand why, but in the film adaptation that goes hard in the paint with Elphaba’s animal abolitionist crusade, I was sort of expecting a stand-off at the very least with a mob of people showing up to Kiamo Ko or Elphaba rallying the animals in a staged protest on the Emerald City steps. Understandably, these would be radical changes to the source material, but something truly new and exciting to chew on. That’s what adaptations are for! To push boundaries.
  
• Yes, Fiyero is largely underutilized in the film, aside from a few “because plot” moments. But Nessarose and Boq are bafflingly underserved. We should have gotten more context on Nessarose. OK, she’s upset that the man she’s been *check notes* playing a “friendly game of cards” with since leaving Shiz is in love with Glinda. But why? Are they even really in a relationship? Do they hang out outside of the governor’s mansion? 

• Elphaba is the governor’s daughter. I wonder why the movie or the play never explains why she wouldn’t take advantage of this and lobby the Wizard for animal activist legislation in a bureaucratic way. 

• Fiyero is a prince. Does that mean nothing? Why was he killed anyway, and what are the consequences of such an action? Wouldn’t that start a war pitting Winkie Country against the Emerald City on behalf of the murdered prince? But if he doesn’t care enough to talk about that with Elphaba before walking off into the sunset, then neither do I.
  
• Chu and company revealed in an interview that initially, there was a shot of the note that Fiyercrow wrote to Elphaba on the cloth of his uniform. Well, yeah, there had to be for that whole last act to make sense. However, I will mourn what the movie would have looked like, showing us glimpses of the Tin Man and Fiyercrow contemplating as they choose to accompany Dorothy to see the Wizard. 

• I feel that Elphaba should have had an inkling of the Wizard potentially being her father before the end of the movie. Perhaps she couldn’t put her theory fully together, but it would have been a good way to bring up her having the bottle again before Chestiry gives it to Glinda in the end. This would have no impact on the Wizard’s devastation once he finds out.

• What would the Wizard and Morrible have done to Elphaba if she had been successfully captured? I think their agenda needed a significant rewrite.
  
• The sex cardigan is lovely and perfect, and I need 10 of them, even though I am not having sex. Thank you, Paul Tazewell.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars