The Wizard of Oz followed a typical if quirky musical layout of the 1930s, where there are good guys and bad guys, the world is black and white, even if set in a magical realm, there’s a mission, creative characters and a feel good, happy ending.  Wicked basically says ‘get real’ and breaks down all the rules that old audiences lapped up, looking at personalities, motivations and cause and effect.  It says that nothing is as simple as a world of darkness and light where never the twain shall meet and little kiddies can sleep soundly in their beds knowing that evil villains are vanquished and good, innocent girls will always find their way home.  It challenges us not to be so quick to judge and to question what we see at face value, to become more than what we are through understanding, knowledge and even pain.

This musical is genius in its script, bringing the back story of the Wizard of Oz into the glaring light of day while Dorothy prances about behind the scenes, a small town girl with a little knowledge and to much righteous indignation and ignorance to see the truth.  It explores the developing relationship between two high school witches at attendance at Shiz, Glinda and Elphaba, one preppy, popular and originally presented as a stereotypical shallow, vapid, blonde, model-esque cheerleader while Elphaba is the outsider, the freak, with green skin and black sombre attire.  They soon discover that looks are only the first layer of understanding and that both have good and loyal hearts. 

Elphaba is continually persecuted and ridiculed by her classmates and later used as a scape-goat for ambitious, political agenda but is strong and principled and fighting against becoming the vile person that the world deems her to be.  She is pushed into a self-fulfilling prophecy by the transference of years of misunderstood mockery that has already judged and sentenced her when she herself doesn’t even know yet who she is or what she may yet be.  She tries to disprove popular opinion and yet falls into her role by acting defiant, isolated and full of confused hatred and defensive caution.

Glinda is her polar opposite, admired and set on a pedal-stool as a role model for every young girl’s wanderlust.  She’s beautiful and popular and oh so good and sweet but this reality has always sheltered and protected her, allowing her to get her own way, use people and develop a melodramatic superiority complex.  The evolution of these characters into women is what defines the show as Glinda listens and learns by walking in another’s shoes, seeing the beauty in a hard heart and Elphaba realises that there is another choice for her and that she doesn’t have to be the person that everyone fears as different and ‘wicked’ and needs to project their own failings onto to empower themselves.

It is a love story where the underdog, Elphaba proves through her selfless actions and beliefs that she is worthy of the devotion of the cavalier and handsome Fiyero as an accepted world of mysticism and magic unfolds were animals can speak and have evolved into intelligent, emotional beings and where those in power want to shape the world in their own image and crush anything that is different or threatening to their success. 

Through hardship, trial and romance a bond of pure friendship is formed between the two witches who society perceives as opposites – the Good Witch of the North and the Wicked Witch of the West.  We learn how these titles are earned and why they are misnomers, certainly in the case of Elphaba who, no matter what good deeds she tries to perform, is constantly brandished as bad while her sister Nessarose becomes desperate and selfish and embraces the black arts of magic for personal gain due to her disability and hurt from the mindless status quo.  She is not strong enough to rise above her lot in life and takes the easier path but Elphaba, though she is sorely tempted and at one point visualises the potential power of her magical talents, demonises herself for the best of the city when she realises that an idea is sometimes much stronger than the truth.

 

We learn that she stole the lion’s courage because he too, judged her green, warted appearance as evil and trembled before her as she tried to rescue him.  The tin man’s heart was snatched by the scorned Nessa and the scarecrow’s empty head was an act of love to save a wonderful man at any cost:

“Let his flesh not be torn
Let his blood leave no stain
Though they beat him
Let him feel no pain
Let his bones never break
And however they try
To destroy him
Let him never die:”

Everything she did was with the best and noblest of intentions but no one is ready to listen or accept the strange, fatherless girl.  Her plight is summed up in the lyrics of ‘No good deed’;

“No good deed goes unpunished
No act of charity goes unresented
No good deed goes unpunished
That's my new creed
My road of good intentions
Led where such roads always lead…