Wicked: A Love Letter to Storytelling and the Big Screen

When I first sat down to watch the new Wicked movie, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Could it recapture the magic of the Broadway show that stole my heart as a kid? Or would it fall flat—just another glossy adaptation that misses the heart of the story?

I first saw Wicked when I was 10 or 11 years old. My mom took me to the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles during the original Broadway run, and I’ll never forget how it felt sitting there in my seat, completely starstruck. The soaring music, the unforgettable performances, the sheer enchantment of it all—it was like stepping into another world.

When the lights dimmed in the theater a few weeks ago for the movie adaptation, I was transported right back to that night at the Pantages, the awe of seeing Oz on stage for the first time.

But what truly amazed me was how fresh and new it felt, too. This movie reimagines Wicked in dazzling ways, blending nostalgia with something modern and unexpected. It feels like a love letter to fans who have cherished this story for years, while still welcoming in a new generation of viewers.

Wicked didn’t just meet my expectations—it defied gravity.

A Cinematic Masterpiece

The visuals in Wicked are breathtaking, seamlessly blending emotional storytelling with innovation. Cinematographer Alice Brooks, ASC, and director Jon M. Chu reimagine Oz as both familiar and refreshingly new.

Within moments of the film beginning, it’s clear they set out to create a world unlike anything we’ve seen before—a reimagining of Oz that is vibrant, immersive, and alive with detail.

One of the most striking elements of the cinematography is Brooks’ deliberate use of light and color to reflect the characters’ journeys. Inspired by L. Frank Baum’s original Wizard of Oz books, where color holds deep symbolic meaning, Brooks infused every frame with intentional hues that bring the story to life.

Take the Ozdust Ballroom, for instance—bathed in rich, atmospheric blue light. In an interview with Cinematography World (2024), Brooks describes it as “the heart of the entire movie” because it’s here, in this vivid, otherworldly space, that Elphaba and Glinda’s transformative friendship truly begins (Cinematography World, 2024).

The Ozdust Ballroom scene is a masterclass in quiet power. Amidst the swirling lights, gorgeous costumes, and vibrant music, there’s a brief moment of stillness—a silence so intentional it feels almost sacred. In that pause, the weight of Elphaba’s isolation becomes undeniable. It’s a moment that beautifully captures the loneliness of someone who dances to a rhythm the world refuses to understand.

But then comes the moment that transforms it all. Glinda, with a small yet deeply meaningful gesture, invites Elphaba to dance. It’s more than an act of kindness—it’s a bridge between two worlds. That small gesture of connection reminded me how powerful it can be when someone steps out of their comfort zone to reach out—and how much courage it takes to feel seen and accepted for who you truly are.

Visually, the scene is just as stunning. Glinda is bathed in radiant, golden light—a reflection of her sunlit, ethereal persona—while Elphaba moves through rich, shadowy tones that hint at her eventual rebellion. The aesthetic contrast between them becomes even more poignant as the story builds toward Defying Gravity.

Cinematographer Alice Brooks describes it perfectly: “From Wizomania to ‘Defying Gravity,’ there’s a long, continuous sunset,” culminating in Elphaba soaring into the darkness, fully embracing who she is (Cinematography World, 2024).

To bring Oz to life, Brooks turned to prototype Ultra Panatar II 1.3x anamorphic lenses—a groundbreaking choice that gives the film its sweeping, cinematic feel while preserving the intimacy of the story. The result is a scenic experience that feels both epic and deeply personal. You’re not just watching Oz; you’re stepping right into it, drawn into every detail and nuance of this reimagined world.

And let’s talk about the practical effects—because they truly make all the difference. Production designer Nathan Crowley and his team didn’t just imagine Oz; they built it. From the rainbow-striped fields of Munchkinland (yes, nine million tulips were planted!) to the sprawling sets of Shiz University and the Emerald City, nearly every element was crafted in-camera. It’s a level of craftsmanship that creates a world so tangible and immersive, you feel like you could wander through it yourself.

This resulted in a world that’s not only stunning but emotionally resonant. Wicked is a masterclass in what happens when innovation and storytelling come together seamlessly, creating a film experience that feels as unforgettable as the story itself.

The Power of Sound

But the sound? That’s where this film truly hooked me. The decision to have the actors sing live on set was a game-changer. You can feel it in every act—there’s a rawness, an authenticity, that’s rare in modern musicals.

Alice Brooks said it best: “The live singing affected the entire mood of the set.” And it shows. You can tell the cast and crew weren’t just performing; they were living in the moment, just as we do while watching it.

As an audience member, you can feel that authenticity—it’s not just a performance; it’s a moment you get to share with the characters and the story.

The film pulls you in from the very first notes of No One Mourns the Wicked. The opening choral lines brought me chills. I was transported—not just back to the story, but to the sound stage itself. It’s haunting, celebratory, and foreboding all at once, setting the tone for the epic journey ahead. There’s something so layered, so deeply cinematic about that opening that you know you’re about to witness something extraordinary yet incredibly personal.

Take Cynthia Erivo’s performance of Defying Gravity. It’s not just about hitting the notes (though she does, beautifully)—it’s about the raw emotion that pours out of every word. You can feel Elphaba’s vulnerability, her determination, and her transformation as if it’s unfolding right in front of you.

It’s the kind of performance that doesn’t just give you chills—it leaves you in awe of the courage it takes to rise above expectations and claim your place in the world.

Meanwhile, Ariana Grande brings her own charisma to Popular. Her live vocals sparkle with charm and spontaneity, perfectly capturing Glinda’s bubbly wit and larger-than-life personality. She makes the character feel fresh yet true to the Glinda we’ve always loved.

Dancing Through Life is a number that takes storytelling through music and movement to extraordinary heights. The swirling platforms, gravity-defying choreography, and dreamy ballroom setting transport you into Fiyero’s carefree world, but beneath the visuals lies a hint of the emotional complexity. Every move is executed with impeccable timing, blending technical precision with pure artistic beauty.

The scene is mesmerizing. The gliding floors, sweeping camera work, and Jonathan Bailey’s effortless charisma make it feel like a joyous celebration, but subtle layers of complexity add a deeper meaning. It’s a perfect example of how Wicked weaves spectacle with storytelling, leaving you dazzled by the cinematography, while deeply moved by the emotions they carry.

I could feel the excitement ripple through the audience as the action played out on screen—just like when I was 10 years old at the Pantages. That same spark, that same awe, was there all over again.

Watching Wicked on the big screen reminded me just how powerful music can be, inspiring me to pick up the soundtrack on vinyl. I wanted to hold onto the magic I felt in the theater, and listening to the music this way felt like the perfect way to do it. There’s something so special about the tangible act of dropping the needle, hearing the faint crackle before the music begins. It’s not just a listening experience—it’s intimate, grounding, and immersive, much like Wicked itself.

The physical format gave the music a timeless, almost ethereal quality, echoing the lasting impact the show has had on me. It was a reminder that Wicked isn’t just about beautiful visuals or unforgettable acts—it’s about how deeply it connects with us, drawing us into its world and its emotions.

Experiencing the music in such a physical, deliberate way, much like seeing Wicked on stage or the big screen, reminded me why this story has stayed with me all these years. It’s more than entertainment—it’s a connection. It pulls you into its magic, making you feel like you’re part of its world, its emotions, and its unforgettable story.

Restoring Faith in Hollywood

Let’s be honest: Big-budget Hollywood hasn’t exactly been killing it lately. Too many films feel like copy-paste reboots or CGI spectacles without heart and soul.

That’s what makes Wicked such a breath of fresh air. It’s the kind of movie that doesn’t just meet expectations—it shatters them. Jon M. Chu reimagined the story, taking bold creative risks like live singing, breathtaking practical sets, and inventive cinematography. Every frame feels alive, brimming with care, artistry, and intention.

At the heart of it all are the performances. Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande don’t just play Elphaba and Glinda—they embody them, bringing raw emotion and humanity to their roles.

Their depictions remind you of what great acting can do: make you feel deeply and connect with characters in unforgettable ways. Add Nathan Crowley’s stunning production design, and Oz becomes a world that’s not only tangible but also magical, expansive yet deeply personal.

At its core, Wicked is a reminder of why we go to the movies in the first place—it’s about telling a story that moves you, inspires you, and stays with you long after the credits roll. In a time when we’re all wondering if Hollywood can still make magic, Wicked doesn’t just answer with a yes—it reignites our belief in what movies can be.

For me, Wicked isn’t just a story—it’s a reminder of why we tell stories in the first place: to connect, to inspire, and to see the world through new eyes. Watching the movie brought me back to that night at the Pantages Theater with my mom, when I first fell in love with this story, and reminded me how this same tale can still captivate and inspire in entirely new ways.

What story has stayed with you through the years? What movie or musical made you fall in love with the art of storytelling?

★★★★★