"Wicked" Personal Essay
The critic's inner theater girl
Just like every other Gen Z former theater girly, the original musical Wicked was an essential part of my childhood and coming-of-age. It was the first big professional musical production I ever saw and the first musical poster in my now impressive collection. The soundtrack carried me through middle school with tearful and cringy listenings of “I’m Not That Girl”, recreations of “Popular” with my best friend (shoutout Olivia), and of course, belting “Defying Gravity” in the shower. This musical has a special place in my heart. So, when the movie was announced I was filled with equal parts excitement and nerves.
I saw the movie in my hometown theater with my family, only amplifying the nostalgia. The experience was honestly magical. The movie’s beautiful vocals, bright colors, and sheer scale mesmerized me. Even now, I would say that was one of my favorite theater experiences of the year.
However, after a day or two had passed, I found my critical brain taking control. The technical and narrative issues of the film started to eat away at me and crush the excited theater girl from before. As someone who is naturally quite critical, this was not a new phenomenon for me. I enjoy picking things apart, which does not typically hinder my enjoyment. I like to say that to love something is to hold it to a high standard because we want it to reach its fullest potential.
For a few days, I held both the critic and the fan in my thoughts. Both sides had strong opinions when I thought about how to review Wicked. It was honestly exhausting.
On one hand, it was a beautiful adaptation with great performances and a story I love. On the other hand, it was a desaturated, unremarkable, CGI piece of IP at a time when we are aching for original stories and creative risks. How could I be so excited about something representing so much of what pains me about the movie industry?
Well, ultimately, I’ve decided not to review Wicked. It seems as though this movie will exist in a liminal space for me, remaining between what I love and hate. It is hard to accept when something is out of my wheelhouse, but my feelings about Wicked might be too complicated to articulate at this point. I could write a review, but it would be a lackluster version of what the movie deserves.
So, did I love watching Wicked ? Of course. Do I believe it was a good movie? I don’t know, but I’ve decided I don’t need to. For a gal with an opinion on everything, it might be good for me to sit this one out.