There's an impression out there that "Wicked," the 2003 musical that adds a revisionist back story to the "Wizard of Oz" story we know so well, is a natural favorite of teenage girls. I heard that a couple of times at Thursday's press opening of the tour at the Benedum, and I certainly saw more teenage girls (and younger) than usual in a Broadway Series audience.
That re-imagining comes from Gregory Maguire's startling 1995 novel, "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West." It stands the received history of Oz on its head, humanizing the so-called "wicked witch." It names her Elphaba, a good joke because that's adapted from the original author, L. Frank Baum, who hadn't even given her a name, and it retells the story from her point of view.
It's fun to catch the clues to the new twists: "Weather is my specialty," says Madame Morrible; "I never had a family," says the Wizard; "Fiyero, have you misplaced your mind?" Gradually, we see how Baum's story got it wrong.
But spells, we are told, are irreversible. So the result is a tragic tale that has a lot to say about the corruption of power, the relativity of good and evil, the demonizing of enemies, and the way history is written by the winners. As the Wizard says, "the truth is just what everyone agrees on."
But Maguire's novel is too dark for a musical this side of Sondheim. What's amazing about the work of Stephen Schwartz (music and lyrics) and Winnie Holzman (book) is that it slims down a complex story, adds plenty of laughs and contrives a quasi-happy ending, all while honoring Maguire's accomplishment.
So call me a fan.
"Wicked" comes equipped with all the trimmings of a musical blockbuster, including grandiose and eerie sets by Eugene Lee, witty/bizarre costumes by Susan Hilferty and great stage effects, such as Elphaba's first flight and the mist in which she casts a spell. A big cast often fills the stage with busy movement ordained by choreographer Wayne Cilento and director Joe Mantello. And there's Schwartz's occasionally funny, more often declamatory score. But it's the story that does the gripping.
Some of the ways it dovetails with Baum or the MGM version (the one we really know) are perhaps just clever, such as the echoes of famous phrases, either funny ("lemons and melons and pears") or ironic ("there's no place like home"). But some links also serve a deeper purpose, which is to help question the way fairy tales often get airbrushed to remove the scary stuff that gave them their original power. "Wicked" supplies that scary stuff -- and more than just the winged monkeys. I'd think twice before taking children under 10.
Here, it's the Wizard who's wicked, an autocrat who suppresses difference in the interest of order. He knows, like some other leaders, that "the best way to bring people together is give them a real good enemy." You'll even see how terrorism can be turned to advantage and "accidents" can power regime change. But "Wicked" is also smart enough to see the banality and sentimentality of power.
So the Oz story that we love turns out to be just the authorized version, a kind of propaganda -- but one that both sides need, both Wizard and Witch.
As to those teenage girls, I would guess what excites them is the central story of the ugly duckling, Elphaba, and the popular blonde, Glinda, and how they deal with rivalry and friendship and discover how to wield power. It is the women who move and shake "Wicked," and I don't mean that accidental brat, Dorothy.
When the two future witches first meet at school, the story is sunny and fun. But listen to Glinda's delicious malapropisms, such as "scandalicious," "innuendo and outuendo," and "hideodious." Each heightens her ditsy comedy, but each also contains a subversive truth, such as the way scandal is delicious.
Given such wit and meaning in the words and story, perhaps it's inevitable that the score doesn't live up to the challenge. The earlier, funnier, character-creating songs are fine (and Schwartz's lyrics are generally better than his music), but the anthem-like declarations of love or principle often just mark time. At more than 2 3/4 hours, the show is longer than necessary, especially in the self-indulgent music.
This tour is a very fine version with all the technical bells and whistles I recall from Broadway two years back. Stephanie J. Block's poignant Elphaba and Kendra Kassebaum's bubblicious Glinda have all the requisite contrast, and the tour is distinguished by the original Madame Morrible, played by the very classy Carole Shelley.
It's got a lot to like. And a lot to think about. "Wicked" is not just another pretty face, but it's a serious, even tormented tale told with great invention and good humor.
The March 5 matinee is being signed: I'd sure like to see what they can do with all those invented words.