After a deeply emotional and disturbingly long press run, the much-anticipated movie musical Wicked is finally premiering in theaters. Adapted from the historically popular Broadway play and starring Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, the film is shouldering heavy expectations from a massive (and extremely vocal, of course) fandom—but in equal measure, it is also a somewhat perplexing entity, conjuring questions such as “What is an Elphaba?” and “Why is Ariana Grande’s hair that color?” To work through that divide, and in an effort to figure out just what exactly this thing is, we gathered members from both sides of the Wicked aisle to talk it out. Their conversation below has been edited only slightly …
Katie Baker: Once upon a time, I used to fret whenever I was unfamiliar with something big in the zeitgeist. “Write what you know,” the old pep talk goes, so it felt like a personal and professional failure when I found myself catching up. These days, though, I’m older and wiser and way more tired, so I no longer fear the voids in my cultural knowledge—I luxuriate in their lukewarmth instead, like I’m floating in a sensory deprivation tank. Knowing nothing about something: I can definitely write about that!
Wicked is one such void for me, and it’s an enormous one. I somehow never read the book, even though it came out when I was a tween who read everything. I somehow never saw the Tony Award–winning musical, even though I went to other Broadway shows like The Jersey Boys and Avenue Q around the same time. And so I am almost entirely in the dark about the major musical motion picture debuting this week (other than being dimly aware that the plot is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz, which I have seen, don’t worry).
This is not the case for my colleague Jodi Walker. So how would you characterize your relationship with the intellectual property that is Wicked?
Jodi Walker: Oh, Katie Baker. What a blissful life you lead. As a former theater kid, annual rewatcher of the 2007 Hairspray film adaptation, and resident princess—excuse me, good witch—of annoying people at The Ringer …
My Broadway burden to bear is that I need this Wicked movie to be at least halfway decent. I do not bear that burden lightly! I bear it so fully, in fact, that I didn’t really know there were people who weren’t excited to see Wicked. I knew that the promotional stills had been far too dark, while the trailer appeared to be entirely sponsored by Big Backlight, with additional financial support from sun flares. But I thought that surely we were all willing to look past that to celebrate this adaptation of the beloved Broadway musical that introduced the world to two future icons: Kristin Chenoweth and the wickedly talented Idina Menzel. The show that touts one of the highest, most difficult to hit notes in musical theater history (and is thus the cause of a central Glee trauma). One of the longest-running shows on Broadway that has music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz (have you heard of Godspell? The Prince of Egypt?! Pocahontas???) and a book by Winnie Holzman (creator of My So-Called Life, for goodness’ sake). And not for nothing—the second-highest-grossing Broadway musical of all time!
So really, I ask you: Why wouldn’t we adapt the Wicked musical into a feature film, which is itself an adaptation of the 1995 novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, which is a prequel to the 1939 Wizard of Oz movie, which is, of course, an adaptation of the 1900 children’s fantasy novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz …
That is just the right amount of time between original IP and a musical film spinoff: 124 years. But given its popularity among anyone who’s ever sported a character shoe in a high school production of Arsenic and Old Lace, I’m shocked it’s taken this long for Wicked to finally make it to the silver screen. The sounds of “Defying Gravity” and “Popular” have become ubiquitous earworms, even beyond theater nerds. And so I assumed everyone was on board with at least giving Wicked a chance …
Until I became trapped inside the fortress walls of a Ringer culture meeting—recreated here for your horror—and was forced to listen to formerly trusted colleagues compare an innocent Wicked film they had not seen yet to James Corden jumping around in Cats. And how might I describe the feeling this invoked in me? Fervid as a flame. Does it have a name? Yes! Loathing. Unadulterated loathing. For your face (Miles!), your voice (Miles!), your clothing (you actually have great style, Miles). Let’s just say—I loathe it all!
Miles Surrey: The Wizard himself would be impressed by the fervor of this misinformation campaign.
Before we get to how I, the leader of the anti-Wicked brigade, feel about this movie, it’s worth digging into Hollywood’s checkered history of adapting the wonderful (?) world of Oz. The original film notwithstanding, this universe doesn’t exactly have a proven track record on-screen: Movies like Return to Oz and Legends of Oz: Dorothy’s Return have bombed, while the glitzy NBC series Emerald City was canceled after one season. (I’ll happily concede that “Vincent D’Onofrio is … the Wizard of Oz” is an incredible bit of casting on Emerald City’s part. In a better universe, he would’ve used his Wilson Fisk voice.)
Frankly, the only offshoot that could be deemed a success was 2013’s Oz the Great and Powerful, which made nearly half a billion dollars. But the film was so meh that Sam Raimi immediately announced that he wouldn’t come back for a sequel and wound up not directing another movie for almost a decade, which I choose to believe was the result of post-Oz burnout. (Drag me to hell was all I could think while sitting through that film.) To be fair, unlike our dear friend Evan Hansen, Wicked is one Broadway adaptation that’s shaping up to be a box office hit. But many horrible movies command the spotlight—er, become pop-you-lar!—without being worthy of praise. [Gestures at the Marvel Cinematic Universe.]
I’m also a bit confused about why they’ve chosen to split Wicked into two parts, especially when the first movie already has a [deep breath] 160-minute running time. Is there enough story to spread out over this many hours? If Part 1 doesn’t connect with audiences, will Universal cut bait? Is Wicked destined to be John Carter for theater kids? (While we’re on the subject, justice for John Carter!) I have nothing against Wicked’s story: I saw the Broadway musical, it was fine! And I hate to burst the bubble of The Ringer’s Wicked contingent, but no matter how hard its stars hit the press tour, you can’t turn this IP into a cultural juggernaut through sheer force of will.
Nora Princiotti: But here’s the thing … can’t you? I’m here as a member of Team Wicked, though really I’d describe myself as only Wicked-curious. And I’m interested in the movie and think it’ll be successful, mostly because the entire cast is giving off strong we-think-we’ve-got-a-hit-on-our-hands vibes. These actors are committed to this movie and this press tour! Ariana Grande dyed her hair, has worn only pink for months, and basically punted on her own album cycle to finish and promote this movie. Cynthia Erivo is fighting fans over poster edits. Jonathan Bailey is wearing short shorts. Everyone is crying all the time!
Without the press tour, I probably would have seen Wicked at some point. Now, I need to immediately know what all the fuss is about. And I do think the fact that these actors chose to spend months of their lives enthusiastically promoting this movie (and dressing outside their color seasons!) says something about how good they think it is.
As a matter of timing, both parts were filmed simultaneously and are finished, so these actors know what kind of product they’ll be releasing, and the decision to split the movie into two parts can’t be read as a testing of the waters. I’m betting on Wicked because it seems like they really are.
Baker: What’s funny is that I think I know more about the process of making this movie than I do about its basic tenets. I couldn’t tell ya, like, what any of the characters’ names are—with the exception of … Glenda the Good Witch and (I’m assuming here!) the Wizard of Oz—
Surrey: I believe it’s Glinda …
Walker: So close! The character is named Galinda, but she eventually drops the first a in her name as a tribute to Dr. Dillamond, a talking goat who taught at Shiz University but was SILENCED by the GOVERNMENT because of DISCRIMINATION, turning him into a martyr, and—
Surrey: …
Baker: [Blinking rapidly] OK, so I clearly know even less about this project than I thought. Yet I somehow did know the logistical details Nora mentioned about the production. And that’s 100 percent thanks to this GQ profile of Ethan Slater, the longtime star of Spongebob on Broadway who met “Ari” Grande on the set of Wicked and remains her paramour. The article does not quote the time Slater’s ex-wife called her family “collateral damage” of the Slater-Grande romance, but it does say this:
Because Chu split the story into two movies, concluding this film where the Broadway play’s first act ends, Slater will spend much of the next 12 months in promo mode for Wicked and then Wicked Part Two.
Oh my God, much of the next 12 months?! This has already felt like one of the longest and loudest promotional cycles of my lifetime, and I lived through War of the Worlds and Don’t Worry Darling. The Wicked teaser came out in February during the Super Bowl. In March, Grande and Erivo wore Wicked-inspired outfits as they presented at the Oscars. This summer, a train from the movie pulled up at the Paris Olympics. The other week, the Arc de Triomphe was lit up in green and pink. You can buy $380 Wicked-themed Lingua Franca sweaters, because of course you can. I’ve lost count of how many times Grande has widened her doe eyes as some overinvested superfan freaks her out. (I’m partial to the one who wanted to get a tattoo of her signature.) I’m half expecting these gals to wind up on Pat McAfee.
Walker: Wicked is a cultural juggernaut for nerds who are just as passionate as those of more traditional IP juggernauts (the Broadway show has made $1.7 billion in ticket sales since its 2003 debut was originally panned by critics—you’re in good, wrong company, Miles!), so I just don’t think that anyone can deny the movie has been set up for success. The story is there, the music is there, but more important than any of that, this adaptation features one of the biggest pop stars of all time—who is, at her core, a theater nerd of the highest degree—and one of the most inordinately talented Broadway stars of all time.
Say what you will about their fun and fancy-free takes on the sanctity of marriage, but you cannot say a thing about the vocal talents of Erivo and Grande. Whether the overall Wicked experience is good or bad, I literally cannot wait to watch and listen to them in this movie. Which is to say nothing of the world’s hottest, flirtiest man, Jonathan Bailey, who’s taking up the mantle of Fiyero, the hottest, flirtiest role on Broadway.
So what gives, Miles? Why do you think this is going to be bad?
Surrey: My biggest objection to Wicked is simply a matter of taste. This is, and I’m really not trying to be hyperbolic here, one of the ugliest-looking blockbusters I’ve ever seen. The original Wizard of Oz was a Technicolor wonder; Wicked is what would happen if you asked an Oompa Loompa to redesign the Windows XP home screen in their image. Ariana Grande looks like an off-brand Mattel doll who’s harboring a sinister secret; I sincerely hope she’s getting enough vitamin D. (I have nothing bad to say about Cynthia Erivo—and not just because her social media presence terrifies me.)
Wicked is far from the only thing wrong with modern Hollywood, but it’s emblematic of the industry’s shortcomings: doubling down on familiar IP, over-relying on chintzy special effects, embracing terrible lighting. Even though the odds are against me, I hope Wicked bombs and that its failure forces Universal to reconsider how it can support original (and profitable!) filmmakers in the mold of Christopher Nolan and Jordan Peele—rather than subjecting audiences to more CGI abominations like this:
You’re gonna look at me and you’re gonna tell me that I’m wrong?! AM I WRONG?
Baker: I agree with Miles! Whenever I see clips from this movie, they almost always seem badly lit, straight-up bad, or both. (It’s me, hi!) To be fair, this would be easier to overlook if I were familiar with the lore, so that’s on me, to some extent. But it’s mostly on them. I know it was like 18 months ago, but who thought this post was a good idea?
Princiotti: They have the brightness set to the Game of Thrones levels. And hey, things worked out for those guys!
Baker: You know what, that’s a great point, Nora, and it is [extremely dweeby election voice] shifting my priors.
Walker: I ask you: Do we judge books by their covers? Do we judge movies by the ill-advised tweets of their earnest, overeager directors? Do we judge promising young witches by the emerald hue of their skin simply because their mother had an affair with [redacted]?
The answer, of course, to all three, is a resounding yes—regardless of whether we should. Behind the terrible lighting, towering stacks of Mattel products, and future Mattel lawsuit for accidentally linking to a porn site on their Glinda and Elphaba doll packaging—that’s what Wicked’s all about, Katie.
Baker: One of my happiest memories in life was when my friend’s sister sent out gorgeous baby shower invitations on tasteful stationery with a little note that said the gift registry was at a store called Giggle—except she put the URL “giggles dot com,” which is … a wholly different, though I suppose not altogether unrelated, place of business. OK, maybe I’m liking Wicked now, you guys!
Despite my skepticism about this movie, I have come out of this press tour with a renewed appreciation for Ariana Grande, even if it’s largely based on (A) her friendship with Wicked colleague Bowen Yang (she’s definitely a finalist with a Kayteigh rising!) and (B) her recent work on SNL. (She and Michael Keaton should honestly just be added to the cast.) So if I respect Ari and Ari respects the movie, then who am I to argue?
Justin Sayles: Can I interject for a moment?
Walker: I don’t know, have you ever tried defying gravity with these hands? (Just kidding, everything is fine, I am engaging in healthy artistic debate!)
Sayles: I have no broom in this race. But I just wanted to say I think we’re way more likely to be discussing Wicked as an award-season juggernaut than as a bust. I occasionally spend some time on the r/oscarrace subreddit, and over the past few weeks, I’ve watched the number of posts about the movie (and Ariana’s performance in particular) grow. The reality is that in these waning days of 2024, when the current front-runners seem to be a Neon film about a sex worker and a four-hour postwar epic about an architect, the Academy may reach for something more familiar. (Also: A 90-plus score on the Tomatometer doesn’t hurt, either.) What I’m saying is: Pink goes good with green, but maybe both go better with Oscar gold.
Princiotti: I’m not calling the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences a grown-up drama club with better plastic surgery. But if you were to think about it that way, you could see how this would be a movie that would perform well with that audience, no?
Walker: Around the time I threatened Justin Sayles, a beloved colleague who was simply attempting to report the news (Reddit), I realized I may be coming at this a little emotionally. Because even though Wicked isn’t my personal favorite musical, I feel protective over the people to whom it means so much. Having debuted just 20 years ago, Wicked was one of the first musical soundtracks that several recent generations of theater nerds fell in love with in their bedrooms all across America—many without knowing whether they’d ever be able to see this story (one of identity and self-love, of government corruption, of standing in defiance of propaganda and dehumanization) play out on a stage. And now it’ll be playing in a theater down the street in (OK, not exactly) Technicolor. Knowing that I’m about to see this tale of female friendship that features lines like “You’ll be with me, like a handprint on my heart”—well, the chances of me crying in a Friday showing are reaching Ariana and Cynthia levels of severity. And really, who—I mean, who—could fault me for loving such a thing?
Baker: Well, now I want them to make a Mike and the Mad Dog musical so that I can know this sort of love.
Surrey: To all the theater kids in my life, I’m sorry for what I’m about to say—actually, scratch that, I’ve avoided interacting with theater kids on principle. Wicked is an affront to art; it will be remembered as nothing more than Cats with better branding. Sure, there’s a good chance that audiences will end up embracing it—Deadpool & Wolverine made over a billion dollars, after all, so we know that moviegoers don’t always have the most discerning taste. But nothing should take away from the fact that Wicked looks awful, and it doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near the Oscars stage in 2025.
In fact, I’ll go ahead and put this on record: If Sayles is correct and Wicked wins Best Picture next year, I’ll let The Ringer’s Wicked superfans devise a … wicked punishment for me.
Walker: Miles, I think the sheer punishment of being this wrong on main is good enough for me. But I cannot speak for the rest of the musical theater lovers, Cynthia Erivo (I’m so sorry, but your supplication will not be enough), and future Oscar voters. You are likely about to set your own box office record as the first person to ever be shoved inside an AMC locker by a group of theater kids. And I have terrible news for you: It’s pink and green in there.
