Wicked Witch variations part 3: Elphaba the disillusioned fangirl (Wicked the musical and films)

I believe that I've somewhere described Wicked as a good musical, but not great as a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. Now that I've actually read the book and reacquainted myself with the movie version, I stand by that. My heart sinks when I see YouTube videos called things like "10 disturbing facts we notice in The Wizard of Oz after seeing Wicked". Please, don't judge the charming classic movie characters by what their alter egos get up to in the musical. Wicked is decidedly not canon – but my, those songs are good.

When I watched the musical in London many years ago now, I didn't have high hopes for it, but I was bowled over when the hit tunes kept coming. Not only were the songs hummable, the lyrics were witty and – towards the end – moving too. Also, the settings were suitably colourful (a far cry from Maguire's dour take on Oz) and, most importantly, the characters were engaging. Well, some of them.

Of the good/redeemable versions of the Wicked Witch I've been discussing, I prefer the stage musical's Elphaba to both Maguire's book version and the rather too goody-two-shoesy Wicked film version. Whereas Maguire's Elphaba was a rebel from the start, and only too glad to have her poor opinion of the Wizard confirmed, the musical's Elphaba is as taken in by the Wizard's glittering reputation as everyone else (and here he actually has a glittering reputation). She may be an outsider, but she wants to belong, and the sweetly optimistic "The Wizard and I", which she sings after having found out that her magic talents might actually make her his right-hand woman in time, is very relatable if you've ever been a fangirl.

She's also impressed by the seductive trappings of Emerald City, which she visits with her by-then best friend Glinda, and at first the meeting with the Wizard goes exactly as she'd dreamed it would. When realisation dawns that he's behind the persecution of talking animals (why is never quite made clear, except with the "everyone needs a common enemy" cliché), it really costs her to give up her dreams (and her friendship with Glinda) to turn against him. It's a compelling character arc, and though it feels rushed when Elphaba turns bad for about five minutes towards the end in order to explain the Dorothy business, it's worth it as it brings us my favourite Wicked song "No Good Deed".

Musical Elphaba, then, is a success. As I mentioned in my previous post, I also like how they handled the Wizard, as someone with enough charm to almost lure Elphaba back to the dark side with his unfeigned enthusiasm over being fêted and openness about not deserving it ("Hey look who's wonderful/some corn-fed hick/who said it might be keen/to build a town of green/and a wonderful road of yellow brick"). Glinda's an enjoyable character too (when she's not annoying). But oh, the rest!

Whereas Maguire at least had the courtesy to read L. Frank Baum's book, I'm pretty sure the creators of Wicked only know the movie version of the Wizard of Oz. It's as if they saw it and said to themselves: "Hey, I wonder what the back stories of the Tinman, and the Scarecrow, and the Lion, and the flying monkeys are?" To which one could reply: "Well, if you read the book, you'd find out most of them." Instead the musical chooses its own path, ignoring not only Baum's novel but to a great extent Maguire's too. Little of what the musical claims about the beloved Oz characters clashes factually with what we're told in the movie version, but psychologically it's all wrong. As any musical producer ought to know, you shouldn't mess with the friends of Dorothy.

The films Wicked and Wicked for Good aren't different enough from the stage musical to merit a separate post. In brief, I found them far too long and padded, but visually appealing, and Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande are a joy to listen to as Elphaba and Glinda (it's not always you get top-notch singing in film versions of musicals). The Chinese Whispers effect continues, though. Whereas the creators of Wicked the stage musical don't seem to have read The Wizard of Oz, the creators of the films don't seem to have much knowledge of the musical's supposed inspiration, Maguire's novel. When scenes are added in order to flesh out the story and maybe fix a plot hole or two, the plot moves further and further away from the book Wicked. 

What's more, the films forget to make Elphaba the least bit wicked, even towards the end. The fact that "No Good Deed" is actually a villain song is ignored. The shadowy Dorothy is referred to merely as a nuisance. This version of Elphaba is never that many steps away from Joan of Arc status, and it gets wearying. At least the love interests are marginally less drippy than in the stage version, and Jeff Goldblum, even when he's phoning it in, is inspired casting for the Wizard.

You may wonder why I haven't yet brought up Zelena, Once Upon A Time's version of the Wicked Witch. Actually, although I think Zelena is a fun character and I like her more than I should considering what she occasionally puts Rumple through, I don't think the Once writers dug very deeply into Oz lore when creating her. It's all very much "something something green skin flying monkeys broom cackling something". But I can definitely imagine her singing "The Wizard and I".

Wicked Witch variations part 2: Elphaba the natural-born rebel (Wicked book version)

Now I've read Wicked by Gregory Maguire, what surprises me the most is not any liberties taken with the source material (primarily Baum's The Wizard of Oz and to some extent the movie version) but how much it differs from the musical Wicked and later film versions of said musical. It's not just the tone, it's the whole thing, plot and characters included. Don't read Wicked if you're a fan of the musical and/or films and are looking to get a fleshed-out version of their story, because this is completely different. One reviewer claimed that basically only the names of their characters are the same, and well... they're not far wrong.

Is the book worth reading for its own sake, then? Yes, I'd say so, albeit hesitantly. Authors aren't normally too pleased when their writing is called "interesting", but this is just that, an interesting novel. I admire Maguire for not going down the easy route when it comes to retelling a story from the villain's point of view. He doesn't make the Wicked Witch (whom he names Elphaba, reputedly after Frank L. Baum) out to be some wronged saint. She is very difficult, and ends up behaving much worse towards Dorothy and Co. – and other characters that get on the wrong side of her – than she needs to. The Wicked Witch isn't so much exonerated as fleshed out as a character, which is (theoretically) the right way to go with these kind of stories.

Also, props to Maguire for doing his homework properly. Unlike (I strongly suspect) the makers of the Wicked musical and films, he has clearly read up on the original Oz novels instead of just watching the movie. Wicked is full of references to the land Baum created, though that's not to say his Oz is much like Baum's version (I think I can safely say as much after having read only one of the original Oz novels). When Maguire brings part of the movie version of events into his novel, it's a conscious choice rather than a result of ignorance. 

For instance, of course Elphaba has to be green-skinned, we'd hardly recognise the Wicked Witch otherwise. She is also two-eyed, for convenience's sake (though there are some oblique references to where the telescopic one-eye idea might have come from), and the Wicked Witch of the East is her sister. I can buy all that, though I don't understand why Maguire cooks up his own back story for the Flying Monkeys (or Winged Monkeys), as they already have one in Baum's The Wizard of Oz. He also keeps the conflating of the two Good Witches of the North and South into one, which is a bit hard on Glinda who (as in the movie, but not the original book) gets to be the one to gift Dorothy the contentious shoes.

To keep to the negative virtues a little longer, we are spared the musical's forced back stories to the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman/Tinman, which were at odds with the original story and saddled Dorothy with the company of a bastard (the Tinman), an ingrate (the Lion) and a double agent (the Scarecrow). Though Dorothy's gang aren't very nicely portrayed in a (rather unnecessary) Prologue scene, they nevertheless keep their original back stories and functions. The Lion's story does have points in common with that of the musical version, but mercifully he doesn't believe has a "grievance to repay" towards someone who has shown him nothing but kindness. 

The love triangles from the musical/musical films are also absent, thankfully. Believe it or not, Fiyero (not a spoiled public-school brat, no) and Boq are actually likeable in the novel, and neither of them courts one girl while yearning for another. Fiyero is never involved with Glinda, and Boq leaves Nessarose (armless rather than in a wheelchair) alone.

So much for what the novel doesn't do, and the pitfalls it avoids. But what kind of story does it tell? Here's where my hesitation comes in. The story is rather oddly constructed into sections with big time jumps in between, while the intervening years' events have to be explained in exposition or flashbacks. The prose is sometimes a bit knotty, especially if you're a non-native speaker. There are questions of a philosophical nature that are, perhaps, given a little too much space at the cost of good old-fashioned storytelling. On the other hand, Maguire takes the time to let his characters talk through political and religious themes which other authors might just have served up to us as black-and-white. For instance, when Elphaba's political activism leans towards terrorism, Fiyero (by then her lover) calls her out on it.

My three main problems with the novel can be summed up as follows: the depiction of Oz, the depiction of the Wizard and, to some extent, the main character herself. Maguire's Oz never feels particularly beguiling or magical. Dorothy's probably far better off in Kansas, quite irrespective of Uncle Henry and Aunt Em. As for the Wizard, of course he's the villain of this version of the story (while Dorothy, you'll be relieved to hear, comes out of it all quite well). I expected that, and indeed the original book gave us little reason to think well of him. But I think Maguire goes too far in casting him as an out-and-out tyrant who doesn't even try to be charming. 

In this instance, I feel the musical and its film versions stole a march on Maguire. Yes, I realise the dire state of Oz and the Wizard's oppression are largely his point, but it's a shame that they're so obvious. In the musical, something bad is happening in Oz and the Wizard is a crook, but it happens under the surface. On a surface level, everything is bright and enticing enough to fool visitors like Dorothy, part of the populace and for a time even Elphaba. As for the Wizard, he is given a dangerous folksy charm. That's far more intriguing than everyone knowing he's a wrong'un.

As for Elphaba, I quite liked her in the section of the novel where she goes to University with Galinda/Glinda (the name change is surprisingly even more poorly explained than in the musical and films). After a while, though, her relentless crankiness started to be wearisome. It's easier to warm to Elphaba in the musical, of whom I'll write more in a future post. Maguire's Elphaba is never disappointed with the Wizard, because she never expected anything good from him. Instead, she takes to the rebel life with gusto – she is more comfortable being against something than for something anyway.

Ultimately, though, she is interesting, as is the novel. But it's not something for girls who enthusiastically dress up as the musical Elphaba for Halloween. Be warned: this Wicked Witch is for adults only.