Defying Brevity — Wicked Part One

William J Hammon
14 min readDec 25, 2024

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I’ve had a very hard time compartmentalizing my thoughts on Wicked Part One, which is the actual title of the film despite the endless dishonest marketing that just called it Wicked as if it was the whole story (including using the line, “Let me tell you the whole story” in the finished movie and trailer), even though it’s just the first act. Universal Studios and director Jon M. Chu were only willing to visually admit that once you were seated in the theatre, ticket paid for, and the title screen came up.

I guess that’s the easiest part to tackle first, the disingenuous campaign. There are so many films that are perfectly fine and entertaining that get oversold to the point of frustration and even contrarianism just to prove our brains are still intact. It happened recently with the West Side Story remake as well as Lightyear, Summer of Soul, and a few others. The incessant barrage of ads begins on Oscar Night, with the studio paying Disney (or just being Disney) for what is essentially a dedicated block of sponsored content in the broadcast to promote the upcoming film, either by showing a trailer or presenting an award. This not only puts the project on the public’s radar, but also that of Academy voters, many of whom are susceptible to the idea that if it’s being shown on the Oscars, then it must be of Oscar quality the next year. It’s the first not-so-subliminal message to members that they need to think of things as being in the year’s pantheon, often before they’re even finished, so that they’ll be predisposed to favor it the next Awards Season.

Wicked Part One is certainly guilty of this initial sin, trotting out stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande — the latter draping her very slight frame in a giant pink marshmallow dress that must have infuriated whoever had to sit behind her in the Dolby Theater — to present the two music categories. You know, because they’re in a musical? Eh? EH!?!?!?!? DO YOU GET IT!?!?!?!?!? That was the more obvious metatext, but the subtext was also to create a mental link between the “Barbenheimer” craze (because Original Song was always going to go to one of the nominated tracks from Barbie) and the nascent, craven “Glicked” campaign. Again, the goal is to create prestige by association long before anyone can actually see the flick.

From there, the public was inundated for eight solid months with ads, trailers, and brand integrations, including at cinemas themselves, with AMC being the biggest offender, showing the trailers before nearly every single film (The Apprentice being the sole exception I witnessed) and extending their post-trailer, pre-Kidman self-promotion ad block to include a 90-second “No Talking” PSA using clips from the movie. It was unavoidable, with Universal entering into an estimated 450 different promotional partnerships and spending upwards of $150 million — equal to the film’s actual production budget — on marketing alone. In literal terms, it was just as important to make a workable picture as it was to sell it as such, and really so much more.

The whole effort culminated in advance screenings that were only accessible to friendly press and Wicked fans and influencers with significant social media followings. It was understood that these people were only allowed in the door because it was their job to praise the product to no end as the greatest movie ever made. It could have been 160 minutes of Ariana Grande taking a Cleveland Steamer on some poor bastard and those invited to watch would have still been recruited to tell the world that it was God in cinema form.

This sort of crass, corporate bullshit has always disgusted me, and it likely always will. Why is it such a crime to just let the movie speak for itself? Why must we browbeat the public for months on end, rather than just let them be aware of when it’s coming out and judge it for themselves (with the help of an open-minded critical media, of course)? When you bombard us with this aggressive of a campaign, all you’re doing is setting an impossible standard for yourself. For all we’ve been put through, this would have to be one of the greatest films of all time, something that redefines how we tell visual stories and changes the course of the artform forever. Anything short of that, and you’ve wasted our time.

This brings me to the second point, which is to say that this is definitely not a pantheon film. Hell, it’s not even a complete film, yet another lie of the advertising (at least Dune, Lord of the Rings, Deathly Hallows, Breaking Dawn, and Mockingjay made it clear from Day 1 that these were multiple installments). It’s not terrible by any means. While I have issues with certain aspects, I definitely didn’t hate it, and was outright delighted in parts. But this doesn’t even remotely live up to its own hype, not that it really ever had a chance to.

So what am I to do, other than parse the various elements and say what I liked and didn’t, and hope you understand my perspective after being assaulted by this overreach for 2/3 of the year? If you fell in love with this, I can’t exactly blame you. The book and the stage musical have legions of fans who debate the relative merits of each, and I can’t fault anyone for being touched by this (though I will fault the two people behind me in the concessions line when it opened who were arguing over who would get to spend $20 on a “collectible” Elphaba cup lid). But for me, it was just… all right, which means for all intents and purposes, it could be seen as a failure for all the time and money spent trying to convince me that it was stupendous months before it was even done.

I think the highest compliment I can pay is that, having never read the book or seen the show, I now want to do just that, if nothing else than to get the end of the story, because it really is cheap to spend the GDP of several small countries on half a movie. On the one hand, I want to finish my engagement with the material, but on the other, there is enough there to keep me interested and genuinely curious as to how it all turns out (at least within this particular context; we all know what happens in The Wizard of Oz).

Let’s start with the performances. Cynthia Erivo is fantastic. I’ve been a fan of hers for years, and she makes me believe Elphaba’s plight, for the most part. I don’t buy her falling for the dipshit Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), and I have a real hard time suspending my disbelief enough to think that in a world full of magic, wizards, and talking animals that everyone could be instantly put off by green skin. But once I got past that, I really got behind her journey, her struggle for acceptance, and her senses of kindness and empathy. She sings circles around the rest of the cast, and her rapport with Nessarose (Marissa Bode) felt real. This is also aided by Bode’s performance, to the point that I often found myself far more invested in what happened to Nessa than the leads.

Further, some of the supporting cast members have great moments. Michelle Yeoh as Madame Morrible is fun until her heel turn, Jeff Goldblum — the literal “Wizard of UHs” as he’s dubbed by some — is an oddly perfect fit for the charlatan Oz, and in the biggest surprise of all, Peter Dinklage lent just enough sincerity to his voice role that I actually found myself caring about the fate of a CGI goat. How does that even happen? The design of Dillamond isn’t even that convincing, but somehow Dinklage made it not only work, he was able to wring actual pathos. I was stunned.

The rest of the cast, not so much. I rolled my eyes every time Bailey opened his mouth. I found myself stifling the urge to raise my hand and point out the bullshit that was Ethan Slater as Boq trying to stand on things to make himself look taller… even though he literally dwarfs Elphaba and Galinda by half a foot (was it weird to anyone else to have a 5'7″ “Munchkin” while the actual littler person in the cast plays a goat?). Bowen Yang and Bronwyn James as Galinda’s entourage were annoying in the extreme, particularly Yang. I love the guy, and he’s funny as hell, but he does know it’s possible to play something other than a gay stereotype, right? Andy Nyman’s Governor Thropp is just a generic shitty dad character. Keala Settle, the sole element of The Greatest Showman that was universally beloved (I STILL sing “This is Me” when I’m feeling particularly low), basically doesn’t get to do anything as Headmistress Coddle.

And then there’s Grande. Look, if you’re a fan of hers, that’s perfectly fine. You do you. We all like different things. But ever since I was first exposed to her (oddly enough via her brother Frankie when he was a contestant on Big Brother), I just couldn’t stand her. Every word she says or note she gets fed through Auto-Tune in her pop career doesn’t so much feel like nails on a chalkboard to me, but more like nails angrily hate-fucking a chalkboard in a BDSM dungeon. I hate how conceited she is. I despise her public persona. Every person who tells me she’s “hot” I mentally put on a sex offender registry, because clearly they have a thing for 10-year-old Filipino boys.

When I found out she was in this, I shuddered, but at the same time, you can’t dismiss good casting. Galinda is a stuck up, entitled, talentless Catch U Next Tuesday who only cares about public image and popularity, is transparently fake, and is so romantically shallow that she gloms on to the first “cute” guy she meets regardless of his lack of substance. I mean, how could she ever prepare for such a difficult role that is totally against her personality (*sarcasm*)? We’re talking about someone who willingly slept with Pete Davidson. Were we really expecting something deeper?

Still, I gave her a chance. I swear to all things holy that I set my bias aside and judged her performance as objectively as possible. There are times where she’s very animated, trying her best to be irritating but eventually grow on you, like a cyst. And if that worked for you, awesome. I’m glad you liked it. However, there are two glaring problems with her turn as Galinda. The first is that she doesn’t lip sync properly. You would think that as a pop star she’d be old hat at this, but she’s incredibly off. You can notice it particularly when she “sings” a high note. Her lips and jaw barely move, separating only about a centimeter. Her mouth moves in the exact same fashion no matter what notes are played or what lyrics are uttered. She looks like a puppet. Everyone else has convincing lip sync, but Grande is almost remarkably unwilling to match her own tone, which is a shame because, assuming it actually is her singing on the tracks, she does show more vocal range here than she ever has as a pop diva. Were her facial movements not so artificial, I might have momentarily enjoyed it.

The second is that, as becomes apparent, she’s not playing Galinda. She’s playing Kristin Chenoweth. Like I said, I’ve never seen the stage production, but I’ve seen clips of Chenoweth’s original performance here and there, and I’ve spent the better part of the last 20 years enjoying her being America’s Pixie. All Grande is doing is an imitation. Now, you could almost excuse it as that just being the character, but there’s a scene late on that disproves the theory. When Elphaba and Galinda get to Emerald City, they are greeted by the “One Short Day” ensemble number, led by the OGs in the form of Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, both of whom interact with their modern counterparts. In this moment, you can clearly see that Erivo is giving us her own take on the role and the musicality of Elphaba, doing her best to distinguish herself from Menzel, while Grande is just doing Chenoweth.

There is a HUGE push to give Grande the Supporting Actress Oscar, and I will be legitimately pissed if it happens. I can admit my prejudice, but I still wanted to like her. However, this is the reality of the situation. I thought I was going to despise Grande for playing herself. Instead I despised her for playing someone far superior without even trying to make the part her own. I concede that the very things that rubbed me all the wrong ways may be exactly why you were enchanted by her. I get it. Truly, I do. I know I’m in a minority when it comes to her entire career. But I have to be honest and say what I really feel, otherwise there’s no point. This was not a performance, it was a pantomime. Also, I swear to God in His Heaven that if I had to sit through one more hair toss I was going to throw shit at the screen!

Moving on, let’s tackle the production elements. This film will likely compete aggressively for Production Design and Costume Design next year, and is shortlisted for Makeup, Original Score, Sound, and Visual Effects. I’m torn here, mostly because Chu at times creates something brilliant, and at others I cringed. The stage show is essentially performed on a single, multi-faceted and moveable set, opening the door for some massive creativity in expanding this world. When it comes to practical sets in and around Shiz University (South Hampton Institute of Zechnology?), there’s some awesome stuff, from a library where bookshelves double as hamster wheels for a dance number (though one has to wonder how books don’t fall out when they’re on top) to a woodland area that feels like it’s out of a fairy tale, the sets that are actually there are wonderful. The CGI shit on the other hand? Well, it’s shit. The color palette is completely washed out and desaturated (a side effect of trying to justify an upcharge for IMAX and other large formats where more vibrant colors are harder to render), most of the effects look cheap and fake (remember, Godzilla Minus One did something far more convincing for 1/10 the budget), and so much of the visual profile is drab and dull. It’s kind of amazing when you consider the classic Wizard of Oz movie came out in 1939. An 85-year-old film has a more eye-popping and memorable visual profile than one claiming to have the best scenery today.

Finally, there’s the script. Let’s at long last fully address the elephant in the room (or in a cage once the animal-haters get a hold of him). This film is over two and a half hours long to only tell the first half of the story, even though the full stage musical runs about the same length of time. Chu, who definitely knows how to stage musical numbers and scenes inspired by them (Crazy Rich Asians and In the Heights), sadly falls short on the basic element of pacing. Part of that is Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox’s bloated screenplay, but it’s ultimately up to Chu to make sure the picture doesn’t feel as long as it is, particularly when you’re only giving us a portion of the actual plot.

There are several scenes that go on for far too long, with instances of false tension that cut back and forth to several characters saying nothing and looking in various directions as we wait for the reveal. When Elphaba goes to the nightclub and defiantly dances by herself, it should feel like an epic moment of self-actualization, but because of the terrible editing and shot selection it plays like an episode of the 2008 game show, The Moment of Truth (the editing gimmick was endlessly mocked by comedy hosts and late night shows). Several plot threads are left dangling (Nessa’s relationship with Boq, Dillamond’s fate) while major character moments are needlessly rushed (Morrible turning villain when Elphaba doesn’t go along with the Wizard’s con), leaving us simultaneously thinking that the film is too long and too short, and yet it audaciously contends that the film is somehow a self-contained narrative that can stand on its own. More attention is paid to the L. Ron Hubbard-esque nonsense words peppered throughout the dialogue than it does actual plot and character development. There are moments that feel like all we’re doing is standing in a holding pattern in between songs, but that pattern lasts for 10 minutes at a clip when it just doesn’t need to.

This is a huge detraction, because the musical numbers are excellently staged and choreographed. Even the songs I hated (“Popular,” “Dancing Through Life”) were performed spectacularly, which only made the great numbers (“The Wizard and I,” “One Short Day”) all the more amazing. And of course, while I vehemently disagree with the splitting of the film, if you’re going to do it, you might as well go out on “Defying Gravity,” which along with the likes of “Memory” from Cats, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” from Carousel, and “Being Alive” from Company, is among the greatest showtunes ever written, and with minimal lyrical changes could fit naturally into any production. For all the gripes I had in this flick, and the several up-and-down moments of enjoyment and enragement, you best believe I was silently belting it out when it finally came, a song and scene almost note-perfect (the CGI on Elphaba’s eventual cape was laughable, trailing ever so slightly on the ground when Galinda gives it to her but flowing out for 30 freaking feet when she’s in the air). If Chu had focused more on making one great movie full of these numbers rather than stretching it out to two with superfluous padding, this might actually have gotten to the top ranks of 2024 cinema for me.

And yeah, I know this review is all over the place, and I’ve taken now 22 paragraphs (easily my longest review of the year) to ironically say that this film should be shorter. But here’s the thing. I’ve said repeatedly on record that you should always take the exact amount of time you need to tell your story properly. I required all this space to get my opinion across as thoroughly as possible. This is a good film, but far from a great one, because it has numerous flaws that were intentionally obfuscated in favor of a massive hype campaign that it could never live up to. All its promotional pomp and circumstance merely opened it up for more intense scrutiny, and the result is that it ultimately settles into the middle of the [yellow brick] road. In the end I do believe it accomplished its goal, because it will get a bunch of Oscar nominations (though few are deserved) and on a personal level I do want to see more, just not necessarily in this format. Jon M. Chu and crew already had a proper blueprint to tell this story in the form of the stage musical that finishes the job in the time it takes them to do half of it. You can easily allow for a somewhat extended runtime to further flesh out the world and the characters, again because you’re moving beyond a solitary interactive set. But there’s not enough in what we got to justify the time we spent, especially when we have to wait another year for the conclusion. That’s a hell of an intermission, and like the advertising blitz itself, it just shows that they were trying to do too much when (in relative terms) brevity remains the soul of wit. When it all comes down, I’m satisfied, but I just don’t see any actual magic here, which like Elphaba, I guess makes me the bad guy.

Grade: B-

Join the conversation in the comments below! What film should I review next? Was it worth the wait — either the movie itself or this review? How many of you are planning horrible things to do to me for not liking Ariana Grande? Let me know! And remember, you can follow me on Twitter (fuck “X”) and subscribe to my YouTube channel for even more content, and check out the entire BTRP Media Network at btrpmedia.com!

Originally published at http://actuallypaid.com on December 25, 2024.

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William J Hammon
William J Hammon

Written by William J Hammon

All content is from the blog, “I Actually Paid to See This,” available at actuallypaid.com

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