Prithviraj Tankha’s review published on Letterboxd:
It's rather unfortunate that Wicked has released at the same time as the uber-masculine but ultimately inferior Gladiator II. Coincidence has led to comparison, with movie-going audiences choosing to side with one or the other not on the basis of the merits of the films themselves, but in where these audiences believe their respective ideologies and allegiances lie.
But for those discerning enough to put biases aside and give it a fair chance, they're likely to appreciate this film for what it is. Wicked is a delightful, memorable, colourful screen adaptation of one of Broadway's longest running productions, reminding everyone why Stephen Schwartz's play was such a winner.
The story begins where The Wizard of Oz left off, somewhere over the rainbow. We're swept off our feet at a brisk clip, and quickly re-introduced to all the old familiar icons of L. Frank Baum's fantastical world - the winding yellow brick road, the sparkling Emerald City, and the ubiquitous Munchkins.
Our narrator on this adventure is Ariana Grande's Ga-linda, the benevolent and graceful witch of the north. That Grande's voice was perfectly suited to the role is firmly established within the first few lines of her first song, and while her performance as an actress might not meet that high mark, she certainly understands the assignment.
Outstandingly blonde in every sense of the term and oozing main character energy all over the place, Galinda is the only one at school who doesn't seem to always have to wear a uniform. She has a fan following, a long line of boys too shy to ask her out, and an airheadedness that makes for plenty of comic relief.
Grande has impressive comedic timing, and it's the main reason she isn't overshadowed by the outstanding Cynthia Erivo. With a nuanced performance and powerful vocals, Erivo's character Elphaba deserves every bit of the green spotlight that is cast on her in this film. She is tragic, smart and sassy - an instantly winning combination that makes her a hell of a protagonist.
Her squabbles and ultimate reconciliation with Grande's Galinda make up the sizable middle act of the film, light-hearted and yet relatable, in a sad way, for anyone who ever had it tough in school. Director Jon M. Chu tugs on the heartstrings with the skill of an experienced instrumentalist, hitting a high point halfway through the film when Erivo's Elphaba expresses her anguish through an act of kindness and an emotionally resonant interpretive dance, set to little or no music.
It's a perfect example of how well the film knows when to turn off the music and when to amp it up. And like the best of musicals (La La Land, Chicago, My Fair Lady), the music in Wicked is marvelous in its own right, and very catchy too.
Not that Indian audiences would have a problem; if anything, Wicked has reminded me just how many Bollywood films are essentially musicals.
That music, and the confusifying but endearable dialogue, chugs us breezily along to the fabled Emerald City, where the set and costume design teams put up some of the finest work to be found in film. The production design a la the set pieces both during the Emerald City sequences and before it, are beautifully done, their vibrancy matched only by their attention to detail.
The Munchkins prance through these colourful backdrops in costumes that are just as inventive, inducing a sense of wonder and the odd chuckle. They look ridiculous, but ridiculously imaginative, and I wouldn't be surprised to see some of the pieces being considered high art in the real fashion world.
One of the few complaints I had with the film arises from a small but jarring technical aspect: the lighting. During the dance scenes in the classroom especially, light annoyingly interferes with shots in a lapse of cinematography that does not seem deliberate. Thankfully, it's a one-off, as the rest of the camera-work is energetic and well-directed, even moving actively with a handicapped character during a dance sequence.
It's a grand, colourful celebration, of the spirit of wonder and innocence. But it's also a commentary on the loss of that innocence, on discrimination and acceptance and identity. We all know that the wizard of Oz is a fraud, but when we watch Elphaba learn this truth for herself in the final third of the film, our hearts break all over again.
That third act really is a rollercoaster, as we're quickly whipped from emotional lows into a dizzying ascent with 'Defying Gravity', the brilliantly conceived and marvelously executed climax segment.
We're reminded, in a dazzling display, of where our ideas of wicked witches with pointed black hats and flying broomsticks come from. But director Chu also digs a level deeper, as our well-intentioned protagonist is unfairly maligned and turned into the victim of a very literal witch hunt.
It really is magnificently done, with not a note out of place, spoken or sung. Wicked ends on a crescendo, with the promise of an even stronger Part 2 that will dive deeper into the complex ideas it introduced in its final minutes. If it's even half as good as this film is, I'll be first in line to buy a ticket.
