Flying high, defying gravity

If you want an origin story done right, 'Wicked' has it all

SLOUGH, ENGLAND:

Are you starting to get a headache from watching villains trying to sway you with their origin stories? Are you of the staunch opinion that a baddie should remain a baddie without trying to woo you with their tale of woe?

Your view is entirely justified. Villain origin stories have been hurled our way whether we like it or not. Disney, for example, appears to believe that our lives have been marred by a Mufasa-shaped hole waiting to be filled with a two-hour photorealistic explanation of what tipped Scar over the edge.

If you are sick to death of reforming villains, however, you must excuse Elphaba, the star of Wicked. Formerly called the Wicked Witch of the West, chiefly known for spreading mischief and mayhem in Oz, Elphaba is the exception that proves the rule – as Wicked illustrates in a dazzling multi-coloured extravaganza. Based on the Broadway show that opened in 2003, this biggest musical of the year has it all: high school cliques, flying monkeys, a pink-clad doe-eyed good witch brought to you by Ariana Grande, and a maligned green-faced witch played by Cynthia Erivo singing her sorrows away. Threaded together by a clever musical score, you would have to have a heart of stone not to forgive Elphaba for having the audacity to serenade you with her villain origin story.

A quick recap

To any kid who grew up on a diet of VHS tapes, the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz personified forever what a self-respecting wicked witch ought to be: cloaked in black, owner of a pointy hat, flying on broomsticks, and cackling in glee as she formulates her next bout of evil-doing. Starring Judy Garland as wide-eyed Kansas-loving Dorothy, Margaret Hamilton as her witchy nemesis and a rather dazzling pair of ruby shoes coming between them both, the film firmly delineated the line between good and evil.

If you revisit The Wizard of Oz as an adult, however, it may occur to you that all this slightly misunderstood Wicked Witch really wants is a pair of shoes that she inherited. This denizen of the West has already lost her sister when a flying house crushed her to death. Must she also lose the only memento left of her? Why must pig-tailed Dorothy saunter off with them? Why can't she saunter off in her own shoes?

It is precisely this casual defamation of a witch's character that is the focal point of Wicked, and if you are a musical junkie, it would be inconceivable that you do not cave to temptation and watch the film. Split into two parts, with the second instalment coming out next year, the film ends precisely where the curtain falls on Act 1 of the show: with Elsa belting out her big-ticket number, Defying Gravity.

If Elphaba's green visage is the face of Wicked, then Defying Gravity is its voice. Like Let It Go defined Frozen, Defying Gravity defines Wicked. Just like Disney is famous for inserting an 'I want' song for its protagonists, Defying Gravity is Elphaba's 'I want' anthem, and is such a magnificent denouement to the first act that whatever follows on stage is almost a let-down. Incidentally, despite the necessary inclusion of a Disney format 'I want' song, the only connection Wicked has to Disney is Idina Menzel: the woman who made her breakthrough as the first Elphaba on stage went on to voice Elsa in Frozen. Millions will remember her urging you to let it go, but the true musical junkie will crown Menzel as the woman who was once flying high, defying gravity.

The magic of cinema

You don't have to have watched the musical theatre production to be persuaded to see Wicked on the big screen. You just need to have a solid appreciation for a good old-fashioned bold in-your-face musical. Comparing a cinematic adaptation to its theatrical production is not quite like comparing apples and oranges, but the two are still vastly different beasts. A theatre production reels you in with the magic of live performances, a pit orchestra, and a black-clad stage crew seamlessly changing the set before your disbelieving eyes. But when you can only manage to find a seat at the back of the theatre, no matter how high your seat is, you can end up squinting your way through the next two hours, and no amount of helpfully placed binoculars in the seat pocket can help if you have been putting off that eye test.

A cinema, on the other hand, is all-encompassing enough to embrace even the visually challenged viewer. Where theatre reels you in, a cinema screen vacuums you in. Suddenly, you find yourself transported to this dazzling other world full of people you are emotionally invested in. For the next two hours, it is just you and them. The only thing that tethers you to reality is that bucket of popcorn on your lap.

A gift for the musical junkie

Of course, your willingness to be vacuumed into a world where Elphaba is increasingly wronged depends on which direction your suspension of disbelief is willing to stretch. Some are perfectly happy to accept, say, Ethan Hunt rappelling off buildings and sprinting for miles without ever developing a stitch in his side (no one loves an impossible mission better than Ethan). This same film buff is also on board with watching John Wick go on a killing spree or an enraged woman gouge out eyes during a little nostalgia trip in Kill Bill.

But try to nudge this breed of screen lover into the direction of seamless Swiss clock-style choreography and soaring vocals, and it is as if they have never watched anything more unbelievable than a weather report. Like Robert in Enchanted, they are suddenly unable to comprehend how anyone can burst into song to get across their point of view.

"He knows this song too?!" cries Robert, flabbergasted when the people around him ditch speaking in favour of singing. The action-lover cynic thinks the same way. If this is you are like Robert, watching Wicked will be as enjoyable as being trampled on by livestock.

But the musical junkie? We can forgive almost any crime – including the origin story of a villain – when it is presented via the medium of song and dance. By the time Elphaba rises above the ashes of her problems, belting her verse about flying into the Western skies, we are flying along with her, ready to go wherever she will take us.