Jasmine Piakan says “Wicked” makes us reconsider our assumptions
As the opening notes of “No One Mourns the Wicked” swelled, I was transported into the fantastical world of Oz. However, for those willing to look past the dazzling spectacle, “Wicked” is a powerful allegory for the complex and often fraught nature of race, power and relationships.
At the heart of this story is Elphaba, the misunderstood green-skinned girl and her unlikely friendship with the rather privileged Galinda. On the surface, their dynamic may seem like a straightforward tale of opposites attracting. But looking critically at the subtext, it’s clear that the story addresses weightier themes of prejudice, power, and the challenges faced by the marginalised.
The casting of Cynthia Erivo, in this pivotal role, marks a significant departure from the musical’s historical precedent of white performers inhabiting her character. This decision, spearheaded by director Jon Chu, has transformed “Wicked” into a mirror that reflects the lived experiences of many Black women.
Elphaba’s very existence as an outsider, her “otherness” defined by the colour of her skin, is a direct parallel to the systemic marginalisation faced by people of colour, particularly Black women, in society. From the moment she steps onto the campus of Shiz University, Elphaba is met with hostility, suspicion, and a refusal to see her as anything other than a threat. Teacher Madame Morrible’s chilling directive to Elphaba to “limit her emotions” to gain access to power serves as a damning indictment of the impossible standards of respectability politics. Standards Black women are expected to uphold while being used to further the agendas of those in power and the goals of those who seek to control them.
The contrast between Elphaba and Galinda/Glinda, the fortunate, blonde, becomes all the more poignant when viewed through this racial lens. Glinda’s initial hostility and threatened reaction to Elphaba’s presence echo the ways in which white women have historically leveraged their own privilege to maintain the status quo, even at the expense of true allyship with women of colour.
This dynamic reaches a heartbreaking crescendo in the pivotal moment when Glinda, faced with the choice to stand by her friend or prioritise her social standing, ultimately abandons Elphaba. Her decision to “grovel in submission to feed her own ambition” is a commentary on the failures of “white feminism” and how even well-meaning allies can fall short when the stakes are high.
Erivo’s captivating portrayal of Elphaba’s anguish, her righteous anger, and her dogged determination to fight against injustice was truly visceral. Through her despair and reclamation of her power in the final scene, Erivo’s performance resounded as a powerful metaphor for the Black experience.
The struggle to maintain humanity in the face of constant dehumanisation, the refusal to be silenced or diminished.
The Wizard of Oz is essentially a fascist demagogue, scapegoating the animals and Elphaba as a means of consolidating power, further solidifying that “Wicked” is a cautionary tale about the rise of authoritarianism. The parallels to present-day issues of racism, the targeted persecution of marginalised groups, and the normalisation of anti-intellectualism are impossible to ignore.
Closely tied to the theme of power is the concept of loyalty and friendship. The evolving relationship between Elphaba and Glinda serves as the emotional heart of this story. Their bond is tested by their divergent responses to the Wizard’s scheme, as well as the social pressures that pull them in different directions. Their values are different, which makes for an unbalanced relationship to begin with and so throughout the tale, we’re invited to consider the sacrifices and compromises made to maintain meaningful connections with those we care for.
Ultimately, “Wicked” challenges you to confront how power, privilege, and systemic issues shape experiences. By centring the perspective of a Black Elphaba, the production unveils the full depth and urgency of the musical’s political and social commentary, refusing to allow us, the audience, to remain passive.
I was teary-eyed at certain points in this film; Cynthia Erivo’s range was spectacular in certain songs like “The Wizard And I”, “I’m Not That Girl”, and of course “Defying Gravity”. My reaction to the beauty of her performance was also a manifestation of the raw emotion stirred by the recognition of my own lived experiences mirrored on the screen. In this way, “Wicked” transcends the realm of entertainment and becomes a catalyst for necessary introspection and dialogue. It demands that the audience confront their own biases, their complicity in perpetuating systems of oppression, and their responsibility to show up as true allies in the fight for justice. The story addresses the subject of otherness and being ostracised, social justice and the rights of the oppressed, including those of the sentient animals in this story.
One of the most emotional scenes for me was at the Ozdust ball, where we see a representation of the prejudices and social vulnerability Elphaba had to face. However, what made it a powerful scene was how it highlighted her resilience and uniqueness. The social expectations, performative identity and pressure to conform that we all know were brilliantly represented in this scene. We see the unadulterated cruelty of superficial judgments and how few, like her character, can demonstrate dignity and individuality in the face of social rejection. There is a pain that comes with being othered, and while this story is inherently political, it also encapsulates the concept of personal transformation for those who have ever been abandoned, bullied, labelled as different and exploited.
This movie is a microcosm of our own societal issues and tensions.
The decision to cast Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba is not only a nod to representation, but a deliberate choice to honour the integrity of the narrative and unlock its full sociopolitical potential. With a Black actress, the production acknowledges that Elphaba’s story has always been, at its core, a reflection of the Black female experience.
Regarded as a lighthearted musical, its deeper resonances were, I think, obscured by the dazzling visuals and catchy songs in the theatre production. So in the end, when Elphaba’s fate hangs in the balance, the audience is left with a choice: will they, like Glinda, turn a blind eye to the injustice unfolding before them, or will they heed Elphaba’s call to join her in defying gravity — to stand up, speak out, and demand a more equitable, just world?
“Wicked” (part 1) is a fantastic piece of cinema. The costumes and set design were gorgeous and created a truly immersive world, despite what I felt to be slightly muted colours and excessive glare at times. The standout performances were, of course, from the leads, with Cynthia Erivo’s portrayal of Elphaba and her emotional delivery and Ariana Grande’s comedic timing as Glinda being spot on. I’ve watched this movie twice so far, and on my second viewing, I was still blown away by the vocal performances and the freshness of the script, which kept me engaged despite the long run-time.
Wicked’s appeal and impact lie in its ability to explore weighty themes with a deft balance of nuance, humour, and emotional resonance. [A further strength was in] centring the perspective of a character who was relegated to the sidelines of Oz for having compassion and unwavering commitment to justice, even when faced with prejudice and misunderstanding. The musical invites you to reconsider your assumptions, expand your empathy, and engage with the realities of our society.
Cinema as an art form is powerful, and it’s great to see them cast a Black woman in an iconic role to deeply enrich the story’s message and impact. “Wicked” defies expectations. I loved this movie — Go watch it!