Wicked: For Good sweeps into theater as a monumental cinematic event, challenging every story ever told about the land of Oz. Released on Nov. 21 and directed by Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians, Now You See Me 2), this powerful conclusion defies gravity, diving into the heart of a misunderstood hero and the complex bond that reshapes a world.
The story follows Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the so-called “Wicked Witch of the West,” as she is forced out of hiding and into a destiny far different from the villainous legend. While Glinda (Ariana Grande) reigns in the Emerald City’s glittering deceit, their paths diverge on a yellow brick road towards an inevitable conflict. One is hailed as good, the other hunted as wicked, but both must discover the truth that lies in the shadows and the shimmer.
On the yellow brick road
The film inherits the very weakness that has long haunted the Broadway phenomenon: a meandering second act—and that is precisely the inherited weakness at the heart of the film.
Wicked: For Good’s greatest flaw is the lethargic pace; for nearly 60% of its runtime, the plot trudges along a sluggish yellow brick road, burdened by political intrigue that fails to consistently captivate. The plot only finds its true narrative drive and urgency with the casting of the fateful hurricane and Dorothy’s (Bethany Weaver) iconic entry into Oz.
This structural lethargy is compounded by significant weak writing and multiple plot holes that fracture the story’s logic. Character motivations often feel contrived or thinly sketched, such as Elphaba’s sister, Nessa’s (Marissa Bode) inexplicable and rapid rise to Governor, which occurs with little setup or justification, serving only to insert a convenient antagonist. The narrative also frequently prioritizes spectacle over coherence, leading to moments that defy established rules and character integrity.
While the narrative may occasionally lose its way, it is effortlessly buoyed by a visual spectacle that is nothing short of breathtaking. The film’s color palette is a radiant improvement—drenching Oz in a more vibrant and magical light, all the while the masterful costume and set design constructed a world that felt wonderfully fantastical and tangibly real. This artistic triumph elevates the entire experience, and ensures that the journey remains an utterly captivating and immersive delight.
The sheer wizardry on display in every frame is a testament to the production’s love for the source material, leaving the audience in awe of the beautiful world they have been allowed to visit.
Beyond the Emerald City
Most revisionist fairy tales simply flip the script by turning the villain as victim, hero as hypocrite. But Wicked: For Good goes further, dismantling moral certainty itself. Elphaba and Glinda weren’t opposites, but rather parallel trajectories through the same corrupt system. One chooses rebellion, accepting “wicked” as the price of authenticity. The other chooses proximity to power, believing she can reshape the system from within. Neither was vindicated or condemned—only the recognition that complicity and resistance exist on a spectrum.
This dynamic creates the film’s most compelling tension—not the question of who is right, but whether rightness even matters in a world where perception manufactures reality. Glinda’s gleaming reputation and Elpha’s monstrous legend are both constructions, both lies, both truths, suggesting that the binary of good and wicked can be a tool of control that punishes those who refuse to perform palatability.
What then emerges is a meditation on female power and its limitations. Elphaba and Glinda represent two sides of an impossible choice: to be loved, to be free, to be powerful or to be yourself. Their relationship becomes the emotional anchor that the plot cannot provide. In their mirrored struggles, Wicked: For Good asks whether true sisterhood can survive when the world demands women to choose between each other and themselves.
Yet, this thematic richness is undermined by the very pacing issues that plague the narrative. The film gestures toward profound themes of complicity, revolution, and the stories history tells about women, but rarely allow these ideas to breathe or develop with the nuance they deserve. The result is a work that understands what it wants to say but cannot quite find the patience to say it well.
Defying gravity
As an adaptation, Wicked: For Good is a visually sumptuous love letter to its source material, yet it ultimately stumbles over the same narrative hurdles, leaving it a breathtaking but imperfect tribute to a modern classic.
For devotees of the Broadway phenomenon, the film offers a reverent translation of what made the musical a cultural touchstone. Musical numbers arrive with the weight of expectation behind them, and the production largely delivers—"For Good" swells with the emotional resonance fans have cherished for two decades, while "March of the Witch Hunters" exploded with visceral theatricality that justifies the cinematic medium. The film understands what fans come seeking: the catharsis of witnessing these beloved characters complete their tragic, beautiful arc.
For those approaching Oz without the armor of nostalgia, Wicked: For Good presents a more uneven experience. The film assumes familiarity not just with Part One, but with the emotional investment that twenty years of cultural saturation has built. The movie never quite decides whether it's a conclusion to a two-part epic or the second half of a stage musical, leaving it stranded between cinematic storytelling and theatrical preservation.
The adaptation’s greatest success, however, lay in its refusal to sanitize the story’s darker implications for mass audiences. It trusts that viewers can grapple with moral ambiguity, with the uncomfortable truth that both women make defensible and damning choices, that systems of power corrupt even those who enter them with pure intentions. This is not the Oz of family-friendly simplicity, but of sophisticated political allegory—and the film never apologizes for that complexity.
Beneath the spectacle lies something softer: a meditation on power, friendship, and the courage to exist beyond the names the world gives us. It may wander, it may ache, but its heart beats true, carrying the promise that even in the ruins of understanding, something tender can still take flight.
Wicked: For Good stands as a fitting, if imperfect, conclusion to a beloved story—a film that shines brightest when it embraces the complexity of its characters and the beauty of its world. Though its pacing and narrative focus sometimes faltered, the heart of the story endured, carried by its powerful themes, and visual splendor. It is a testament that even in imperfection, there can be magic—and that the best stories are those that dare to reimagine what we think we know.
Ride the cyclone to Oz with Wicked: For Good, out now on all cinemas.
