Here’s a bold statement to kick things off: The story of Oz, as we know it, is a lie. But what if the real villain wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West? What if the entire tale was a cleverly disguised fable about power, discrimination, and the human condition? That’s the provocative premise of Wicked: For Good, the highly anticipated sequel directed by Jon M. Chu, starring Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not just a musical—it’s a mirror held up to our world, where the lines between good and evil are blurrier than ever.
Let’s rewind for a moment. The first Wicked film reimagined the classic Oz legend from the perspective of Elphaba (Erivo), the misunderstood green-skinned witch, and Glinda (Grande), the seemingly perfect princess. But here’s the twist: their friendship isn’t just a feel-good subplot—it’s a commentary on societal prejudices. The Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and even the Lion? Their backstories aren’t just charming; they’re deeply symbolic, though the Lion’s origins might leave you scratching your head. But here’s where it gets controversial: the Wizard, played by Jeff Goldblum, isn’t your typical villain. He’s a morally ambiguous figure, leaving audiences to question whether he’s a victim of circumstance or a mastermind of oppression. The film expertly navigates these gray areas, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about power and privilege.
The first installment ended with a bombshell: Oz, far from being a magical utopia, is built on a foundation of discrimination, enslavement, and lies—a thinly veiled allegory for fascism. What’s striking is how the oppressed class isn’t human but animal, yet the parallels to real-world issues are impossible to ignore. ‘Any timeless story feels timely,’ Chu reflects, ‘because it’s about the human condition. When people become too powerful, what happens to the powerless? That cycle repeats every few generations, and maybe this is our moment. We’re the adults in the room now.’
Ah, yes—adults who still swoon over pink and green aesthetics, who’d follow Ariana Grande off a cliff in perfect Busby Berkeley choreography, and who can’t resist belting out Defying Gravity at the slightest provocation. The first film was enchanting, but Wicked: For Good takes it a step further, delivering an unexpectedly emotional punch. Clocking in at over five hours combined, these films are a testament to Chu’s ambition. ‘I just knew it had enough meat in it,’ he says casually, as if crafting a cinematic epic is no big deal.
I sat down with Chu at London’s Corinthia Hotel on Remembrance Sunday, where the pomp outside contrasted sharply with his calm, mischievous energy. Dressed impeccably, he exuded a rebellious spirit that was both captivating and disarming. My initial skepticism wasn’t aimed at him personally—his credentials, from Crazy Rich Asians to In the Heights, speak for themselves. No, my doubts were about the stage version of Wicked, which premiered in San Francisco in 2003. Chu saw it with his mother before it even hit Broadway, a moment that feels symbolic of his journey.
Chu’s parents immigrated to the U.S. with nothing but a dream. They built a restaurant that still stands 55 years later, while Chu pursued ‘the most American job of all’—telling stories through movies, specifically musicals. ‘I am proof that the dream is real,’ he declares. Yet, his path wasn’t without challenges. As a student at USC’s School of Cinematic Arts, his professors warned him, ‘Don’t write a movie musical, the form is dead.’ But here’s where it gets controversial: Chu didn’t just revive the genre—he elevated it, creating films that feel lightyears ahead of their stage counterparts.
The films are so superior to the original musical that it’s hard to see the connection. It’s like comparing Zippos Circus to The Greatest Showman—the orchestration, dialogue, pacing, and character development are on a completely different level. ‘It’s a different thing,’ Chu explains diplomatically. The stage version winks at the audience, challenging them to suspend disbelief, while the films immerse us in a world where the green-skinned girl is our stand-in, asking, ‘Where the hell did I just land?’
Erivo and Grande were the obvious choices for the leads, not just because of their undeniable chemistry (matching tattoos, anyone?) but because of their raw talent. Their vocals weren’t pre-recorded, which is astounding given the physical demands of their roles. ‘We could have cast any singers,’ Chu admits, ‘but they had something different—a connective tissue to truth.’
Chu initially doubted Erivo’s edginess and Grande’s global stardom would fit, but both women defied expectations. ‘Ariana wasn’t the pop star Ari, she was Glinda,’ he recalls. ‘She was from another planet.’ Despite his initial skepticism, her performance was undeniable. ‘Something about the way she sang it—she’s been through so much tragedy, and I felt she was singing about me.’ Similarly, Erivo’s performance resonated deeply, capturing Chu’s own dreams of becoming a director.
But here’s where it gets controversial: What if their real-life bond was just luck? ‘I thought, even if they hate each other, the camera loves their energy,’ Chu confesses. Yet, their genuine friendship adds an extra layer of authenticity to the film.
From the start, Wicked tackles themes of racism and oppression, with Elphaba’s green skin serving as a metaphor for otherness. While the first film explored these ideas in a Disney-esque way, the sequel delves deeper into segregation and systemic injustice—themes that have long been central to Chu’s work. After becoming a father of five, his perspective shifted. ‘I want my kids to live in a world where they’re proud of who they are,’ he says. This drove him to create films like Crazy Rich Asians and In the Heights, which tackle multiculturalism in nuanced, unclichéd ways.
‘Melting pot is way more difficult than a word,’ Chu observes. ‘Melting is not fun. I was born in a melting pot, and I didn’t even realize I was melting until much later. Maybe it’s not melting at all. Maybe it’s a soup where we’re all still ourselves, in the same bowl. Not becoming one thing, but knowing that coming together is part of the dream.’
Wicked: For Good feels particularly relevant in today’s world, where AI blurs the line between reality and fiction. ‘Generative AI was not used in this movie,’ Chu declares proudly. ‘If you see the camera shake, if a dancer misses a step, that’s because humans made this. The imperfections are what make it real.’
Chu sees himself on the frontlines, using his platform to address political, social, and cultural upheavals. And if you’re wondering how a musical about witches can tackle such weighty issues, the answer is simple: Go see it. It’s not just entertainment—it’s a call to action.
‘Movies are one of the few protected spaces,’ Chu says. ‘You put your phone aside, sit with strangers, and see the world through someone else’s eyes. I feel a grand responsibility to use that time to say, ‘Do you see what’s happening on the outside?’’
Now, here’s my question for you: Does Wicked: For Good succeed in its ambitious goals, or does it fall into the trap of being ‘just another musical’? And more importantly, can a film truly change the way we see the world? Let’s discuss in the comments—I’m eager to hear your thoughts.
