It’s been 85 years since Dorothy Gale accidentally got swept away to Oz, dropped a house on a witch, and famously used her ruby red slippers to return home. Since our adventure down the yellow brick road, The Wizard of Oz has been referenced as a revolutionary film and widely accepted as a quintessential classic. It was one of the first films added to the National Film Registry, one of the few films in UNESCO’s Memory of the World Register, and, in 2022, Variety included it in its 100 Greatest Movies of All Time list. 

While not receiving immediate commercial success until its TV release in the 1950s, the film and its numerous “curses” make for an interesting story both in front and behind the camera. As I revisit the film for its 85th birthday, I examine what exactly turns a film from great to canon. 

Image Credit to MGM Studios via BBC

A Universal Plot that Touches Our Inner Child

We follow Dorothy Gale, a young girl from Kansas, who is swept away by a tornado to the magical land of Oz. Remarkably played by the iconic Judy Garland, Dorothy embarks on a journey to find the Wizard of Oz, who she believes can help her return home. Along the way, she befriends the Scarecrow (Ray Bolger), Tin Man (Jack Haley), and Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr), who seek the Wizard’s help for their desires.

Arguably, the film, despite its complex use of color, special effects, and world-building–to be discussed later–conveys rather simple, child-like themes including the quest for self-identity, the importance of home, and the power of friendship. The film also delves into the dichotomy of good versus evil, represented by Glinda the Good Witch (Billie Burke) and the Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton).

But the execution of such themes takes this film from a charming children’s movie to a masterclass in storytelling. Each character writes the handbook on their “stereotypical” trope because, in reality, these characters were the first to master what would become the stereotype. Garland as Dorothy perfectly portrays the innocent, overly trusting young girl with dreams of grandeur, traits we soon find in various Disney-made and produced films later in the century.

Bolger, Haley, and Lahr, respectively, bring a caricature-like quality to their supporting roles but do so in a way that’s both playful and respectable as their screen presence and chemistry are magnetic. They perfectly personify a combination of the lovers, the jesters, and the explorers that we find in films for both adults and children. I can’t help but see the inspiration in films like Singin’ in the Rain (1952), Mary Poppins (1964), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968), Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971), Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory (1971), The Princess Bride (1987) and more. They all have a sense of quirkiness, adventure, and larger-than-life characters that reflect the ones from Oz that we fell in love with.

In the characterization of evil, Margaret Hamilton’s iconic portrayal of the Wicked Witch of the West became the archetype for witches in popular culture. She’s green, she’s ugly, she’s scary, and her laugh is infamously unforgettable influencing countless depictions in subsequent films, television shows, and literature. (And of course, she is even reimagined in Wicked, a Broadway musical and soon-to-be feature film.)

Released just as the Great Depression ended, 1939’s The Wizard of Oz executed a child-like story that touched the hearts of all audience members. The sense of wonder and longing for adventure ‘over the rainbow’ combined with a perfect ensemble of performers made The Wizard of Oz destined for greatness. But is it enough?

Image Credit to MGM Studios via Medium

Production & Distribution: Wonder Meets Technology

Naturally, a film with a fine plot and performance can only go so far. What drove The Wizard of Oz beyond the yellow-brick road of “great films” was its genius use of technology in production and distribution.

While the film wasn’t the first to use technicolor, it is arguably one of the most famous technicolored films. The film famously starts off in a sepia-toned Kansas, familiar to filmgoers of the 1920s and 1930s, but enters a heavily saturated Oz which makes not only a profound plot statement but wows the audience in a way they had never been wowed before. 

To this day I find the shift in color one of the most awe-striking moments out of all the films I have seen. A visually personified “new world” sets up Oz in a way no film has done before, or maybe even after–though many have tried.

On top of the magnificent use of color, the film’s special effects were cutting-edge for the time, including the realistic tornado sequence and the use of matte paintings to create the expansive landscapes of Oz. The costumes, by Adrian Adolph Greenburg, lacked not a single detail, resulting in magnificent renditions of The Scarecrow, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, Wicked Witch, and all the other colorful characters in Oz. 

Despite initially receiving mixed reviews and not achieving immediate financial success–although it was recognized with five Academy Award nominations, winning two for Best Original Song (“Over the Rainbow”) and Best Original Score–the film’s true success came to full fruition in the 1950s.

Distributed via television broadcasting, The Wizard of Oz capitalized on the newest, novelty of the 1950s and solidified its popularity by reaching wider and wider audiences. One can’t help but wonder how The Wizard of Oz would have aged if its popularity hadn’t spread in the 1950s and beyond. Would Oz have remained as iconic? Is the canonization of a film truly linked to the number of people who see it?

NBC TV ad from 1970 via The Jumping Frog

Coincidence or Genius: The Creation of Icons

The sheer number of people who watched The Wizard of Oz may be related to the creation of such highly referenced characters, quotes, and scenes. In fact, in 1982 alone, according to Arnold Becker, vice president of research at CBS at the time, 14,780,000 children ages two to eleven watched The Wizard of Oz. He also claimed about 20 million adult audience members watched the film in the same year. Later in the same 1983 NY Times article, it was said that “in its first 24 years on television–eight runs on NBC and 16 on CBS–The Wizard of Oz’ has been welcomed into a lot of homes, an aggregate of 383 million homes.”

Did television producers force the creation of a classic? Possibly, but the addition of a whimsical plot, stellar cast, and imaginative production design certainly aided in the reception (and re-reception) of the film. 

In a time before the internet and social media, icons were created through word of mouth and physical press. The Wizard of Oz’s use of television made it easy to be constantly talked about leading many households to form distinct images of the film in their heads–ruby red slippers, the yellow brick road, a witch on her broom, the emerald city, and lines like “I’ll get you pretty” and “There’s no place like home.”

Is it a case of right place right time? In a way, the film got lucky to have been rereleased during the television novelty era, when there weren’t a million channels and streaming services for films to get lost in. However, the film couldn’t have found such success in its rerelease if it wasn’t for the fact that it is a masterful work of art.

To my delight, I was able to revisit The Wizard of Oz for its birthday, a film that my parents and my grandparents grew up on. And as we know, a film also becomes canon when we form a familial connection to it. So, with a combination of masterful storytelling, special effects, production design, family tradition and a boost from to power of television, The Wizard of Oz deservedly has become one of the most important of all times and I can’t wait to revisit Oz again soon. 

Retrospective Courtesy of Sara Ciplickas

Feature Image Credit to MGM Studios via Classic Cinemas