The first Wicked movie arrived heralded by merchandise. In the months leading up to its release last November, different brands began spewing pink and green products everywhere. The musical adaptation filled Oscar nominations and press junkets with its theatricality.
For a time, Hollywood was caught in a dichromatic tornado of promotional material, which then subsided. The world seemed to move on from Wicked. But a year later, I began receiving advertisements for Wicked-themed dish soap and bread. The cycle had started again.
Last year, I bemusedly described the Wicked enthusiasm before praising the first installment and hoping the second, Wicked: For Good, would provide catharsis. Now I reread the words and wonder at my own naivete.
Wicked: For Good is an interesting film, but that doesn’t make it a satisfying conclusion. Once I exited the theater, I called it “really good, maybe better than the first one.” Then I sat down and thought about whether that was true. It was complicated.
This film provides an expanded version of the stage musical Wicked’s second act. The odds were already against director Jon M. Chu, as Act 2 of Wicked is known for having the weaker songs and storyline. The plot largely draws upon and sets up elements of the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz, in convoluted, sometimes unsettling ways.
When the story picks up, the witch Elphaba, played by Cynthia Erivo, is still green, and can now skateboard on brooms and liberate CGI elasmotheriums (the last movie’s theme of animal rights is still prominent). Her former roommate Glinda, played by Ariana Grande, is a figurehead for the land of Oz’s oppressive government, and can also float around in a giant bubble.
The Wicked films have an unfortunate tendency to undercut their best qualities. Last year, Wicked’s costume designer Paul Tazewell rightly won an Oscar for his contributions, and For Good also uses his work. The film’s costume and set design is impressive, featuring vibrant hues and intricate detail.
However, Wicked: For Good’s color grading often casts a pallor over each scene. Though the visuals aren’t irredeemable, it’s hard not to wince whenever CGI and desaturation make a dramatic vista look like a muddled brown screensaver. A constant rainbow motif was reminiscent of the original Wizard of Oz movie, but also made me yearn for that film’s unabashedly bright colors.
The two new songs added to the film’s setlist also demonstrate Chu’s self-sabotage. “The Girl in the Bubble,” a musical interlude written for Glinda, has creative cinematography, but the actual song interferes with the film’s pacing.
Elphaba’s song “No Place Like Home” is better, owing to the film’s overt parallels between the treatment of animals in Oz and minority groups in modern-day America. Yet the ending of For Good seems to disregard the message of the song altogether, much to my confusion.
Other parts of Wicked: For Good are more effective. The interactions between Glinda and Elphaba, which are far more genial than one would expect, create some of the film’s funniest and saddest moments. Glinda is also a more central character than she was in the last film, befitting Ariana Grande’s talented performance.
To extend the film’s own metaphor, Wicked: For Good is at first a “shiny, pink [and green] bubble,” which pops upon further inspection. The decision to make one stage musical a collective 300 clockticks of film, which I viewed with suspicion last year, was only the first of many things that could’ve been done better.
The dynamic between Elphaba and Glinda encompasses many different dualities; a selfish princess and a selfless witch, a cog in the (gilded, impressively designed) machine and a vigilante. Wicked’s greatest strength is giving their relationship depth and relatability.
But as I watched the second installment, another contrast was on my mind: enjoyment versus substance. I had a great time watching For Good, and would advise anyone who liked the first movie to go see it. Yet on an objective level, there are too many faults to overlook. Wicked: For Good would more accurately have been called Wicked: For Mediocrity.
