Those political metaphors move to the forefront in For Good. Having spent much of part one filling in the backstory of Elphaba (Erivo) and Glinda (Grande) as classmates at Shiz University, the second chapter finds Oz in an increasingly agitated state. Elphaba, demonized as the Wicked Witch of the West, is now living in exile.
“Shield your children,” trumpets the government messaging. “Trust no animals!”
While the Yellow Brick Road is laid down, like railroad tracks on the frontier in an industrial haze, the hunt for Elphaba ratchets up. A travel ban is put in effect for animals and Munchkins, alike. Oz, it’s said, is “a place that seems to be devolving.”
No one above the age of 10 will fail to miss the target of these references. Wicked: For Good isn’t shy about them, and that frankness — and the movie’s ardent belief in empathy and multiculturalism — is both the film’s most stirring and most heavy-handed trait. Each iteration of Wicked has come with its own political relevancy. Maguire, himself, was influenced by the drumbeat leading up to the Gulf War. For Good may be the most pointed and timely interpretation yet. Some of that is woven into the play, and some of it is expanded upon in Holzman’s and Dana Fox’s script, which pads the second act with a little more minor character development and a pair of new songs.
The catchiest tunes (“Popular,” “Defying Gravity”) are in the rearview, though. Instead, Wicked: For Good is all storm clouds and rebellion, as Elphaba mounts a resistance to the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) and Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh). Characters like Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), captain of the Wizard’s guard, are forced to pick a side.
Considering the source material of the 1939 classic — old Hollywood at the very height of its powers — you would think Oz would come through clearly as a setting, only seen from a different perspective. But despite Chu’s energetic handling of earlier films like In the Heights and Crazy Rich Asians, Wicked: For Good struggles to really orient us in a place. When Dorothy and Toto drop in (they’re seen only from afar), you almost yearn for the clear pathway they begin skipping down.
Instead, Wicked: For Good, rather than conjuring Oz anew, always feels like it’s jumping from one set piece to another. Maybe this is a silly gripe for a fantasyland. (“I don’t have any idea where the offices of the Lollipop Guild are!”) But I rarely found myself lifted into a movie world, but rather sat watching it — sometimes with admiration, rarely with delight — from the mezzanine. The rub of going for maximum effect all the time is that the actors never have a chance to simply be.