If Wicked (2024) is about learning to fly, then Wicked: For Good is about coming back to earth to reckon with reality.
Jon M. Chu’s adaptation of the hit Broadway musical opts to separate each act into its own film, a decision that paid off in droves with Part One. Scenes had more room to breathe, the backstory was fleshed out, and character dynamics were more elaborately developed.
However, the true measure of success would come with For Good. Act Two of the stage show has been widely criticized for its rushed pacing and numerous plot holes. It seems that if any act were to benefit from a two-part split, it would be this one.
Despite a wobbly start, Chu and company manage to do just that, bringing the second half of the story to a satisfying, emotional conclusion.
For Good picks up some time after Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) defied the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) (and gravity) and left Glinda (Ariana Grande) behind.
Now, Glinda fully immerses herself as a public figure to brighten the spirits of her fellow Ozians, with Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) pulling strings behind the scenes. Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey) becomes captain of the Gale Force, the military tasked with hunting down the Wicked Witch. Nessarose (Marissa Bode) assumes her father’s role as Governor of Munchkinland with a reluctant Boq (Ethan Slater) by her side.
Meanwhile, the Yellow Brick Road begins construction at the expense of the Enchanted Forest, where the Animals dwell. Elphaba, in her continued effort to take down the Wizard, disrupts construction and frees the Animals who are being exploited for labor.
Screenwriters Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox struggle out of the gate trying to flesh out the story while dropping us right back into the world of Oz. There is a constant push and pull of welcome additions to fill plot holes, additions that disrupt the momentum, and rushed scenes from the show that are left largely untouched.
For example, in the show, Act Two opens, and everyone is talking about the Wicked Witch’s reign of terror. Here, we actually see Elphaba’s acts of defiance that are propagandized against her image. It strengthens the political undertones presented in Part One and allows them to land fully.
On the other hand, we get an abrupt flashback to Galinda’s childhood. Although its presence makes sense in the grand scheme of the film, it drags the momentum built by the opening moments to a halt.
There’s also the matter of Nessarose. When we reunite with Nessa in the show, she’s essentially a dictator. We actually see her darkness take hold, and the oppressive lengths she goes to keep Boq with her. Yet, in a later pivotal scene involving Nessa and Boq, it feels like Chu is racing to get it done, which is frustrating given the strength of the performances. However, once Elphaba and Glinda have their first reunion, the film finds its footing and its smooth flying from there.
Chu does a great job at establishing the darker tone from the beginning. This is not the same Oz we visited just a year ago. As the film goes on, it embraces that tone tighter and tighter and shines all the brighter for it.
The real-world comparisons may feel obvious to some—a specific group of citizens being demonized by the government, stripped of their speech, and imprisoned. Still, the political undertones are impactful because Chu treats them with weight and severity. And while they are present in the musical, the film has more room to let the themes feel all the more critical.
Likewise, the more serious tone forces our characters not only to reckon with their larger reality but also the consequences of their decisions. These internal struggles are heightened by the performances of the remarkable cast, who sink their teeth even deeper into their roles.
Erivo is the defining Elphaba. She makes rich, nuanced choices that bring out the storm in Elphaba’s head as she tries to navigate this impossible situation. Her brilliant decision to craft “No Good Deed” as a rock bottom moment for Elphaba allows the painful self-reflection to ring true. Try as she might, Elphaba is thwarted at every turn to expose the Wizard and seemingly causes more harm than good to her loved ones. As she asks herself if she was “really seeking good or just seeking attention,” her painful realization hits audiences right in the heart. It’s a moment that really brings the house down (pun fully intended).
The beauty of Erivo’s performance is how she holds space for Elphaba to harden against a world that turned on her while also cracking her wide open and exploring her vulnerability. Elphaba simultaneously embraces the label people want to bestow upon her and trembles under its scrutiny.
Then there’s Miss Grande-Butera. Her impressive work in Part One carved out layers for a character that sometimes fell into cartoonish territory. Grande-Butera excavates her entire soul in this outing. Her guilt-ridden Glinda attempts to reckon with the life she dreamt of, now clashing with the reality that she cannot unsee. Her wakeup is painful and difficult, but, at her core, she does want to be good.
So much happens in her eyes, especially in her rendition of “Thank Goodness.” On the Sentimental Men Podcast, Grande-Butera stated that she is a “Thank Goodness” Glinda; her understanding of Glinda specifically in this moment is so clear as she struggles to pour positivity into others while navigating her own complicated personal life.
Both women also get an additional song to flesh out their characters a bit more. While they may take a minute to grow, both “No Place Like Home” and “The Girl in the Bubble” feel intentional in how they try to address some gaps in their respective characters’ journeys. They don’t feel thrown in for the sake of having an original song nomination (although I don’t doubt that it isn’t part of the motivation).
When these women come together, it’s pure magic. Somehow, they’ve outdone themselves from the first one. The friendship is complex, full of big emotions, all of which flow between the two without a single word. We are so lucky to witness Erivo and Grande-Butera’s artistic collaboration.
Bailey gets a bit more to chew on this time around as Fiyero finds it impossible to pretend anymore. It’s a stellar contrast to his whimsical portrayal in the first outing. His chemistry with Erivo is electrifying as well, and the two turn “As Long As You’re Mine” into a sensual, goosebump-filled barnburner.
Another major standout this time around is Slater as Boq. He takes Boq to much darker places than his predecessors have been allowed to. He fashions this side character as not only a casualty of callousness but a well-rounded being whose time has been stolen. There’s a ferocity there that doesn’t always get to be.
The stellar costume work by Paul Tazewell and the production design by Nathan Crowley (both of whom won Oscars last year for their work in Part One) grow with the piece’s tone. The costumes have aged alongside our characters, containing more detail, while the extravagant sets have lost their fantasy sheen and loom large over the unfolding events.
Chu’s direction feels much more intentional. There are subtle parallels to the first film that help shatter the illusion of Oz. He also truly understands the powerful intimacy that can be achieved in film and maximizes that fully in For Good.
Unfortunately, For Good does not quite reach the heights of its predecessor. But once it finds its footing, it soars and serves as a beautiful culmination of the story. It’s an effective tale about what it means to be visibly good versus tangibly good and how we all struggle with that internally. It emphasizes the importance of popping our own bubbles, unabashedly looking at the world for what it is, and demanding more for those who cannot. And, at its core, Wicked: For Good is an ode to friendship and the ways we color each other’s perspectives and views.
Given the current state of the world, we could use a little bit more of all of that.
Review Courtesy of Adam Patla
Feature Image Credit to Universal via Screen Rant