Wicked

I’ve always vaguely disliked Ariana Grande. I’m not quite sure why either. I guess i’m not a huge fan of most pop or maybe it’s because I feel like I have to stand up for Pete Davidson as a card carrying member of the DDC (Deceased Dad Club).

Whatever it was it doesn’t matter now because Mrs. Grande I was deeply unaware of your game. Wicked has turned me anew and I am a believer. Today I am talking about wicked and hopefully not too much about the astounding number of tears I shed during my viewing.

As a theatre kid I have known about the movie for a few years now and had been waiting far longer than whatever promotional campaign the film did. My wife on the other hand was vaguely aware of the show as a Broadway musical and was happy to see it with me. What followed was one of my top movie experiences of the year.

From the first moment the film opened it was full of spectacle, color, and sound. I love all kinds of movies but my favorite since childhood have always been the big ones. A big huge American movie just does something for me. I think it has to do with the American mythology of hope and self reliance.

Our country has created it’s own herculean mythology on the back of film characters like Superman, Rocky, and Luke Skywalker. And in all three of these films you can also distinctly relate the story with its soundtrack. Musicals do this on an even deeper level than most films. The dreamers and doers of most musical plots are so full of emotion to enact their dreams that they speaking won’t cut it and they must sing along with the score.

Musicals more than almost any other art form cradle the idea of the American dream. The idea that if you have enough gumption and push hard enough your happy ending will come. It is why musicals like West Side Story, Hamilton, and Wicked stick in our culture even if you haven’t seen them.

This Idea brings me to my first cry moment: “The Wizard and I” by the one of a kind Cynthia Erivo. I’ve been a big fan of Mrs. Erivo since I saw her sing the color purple on good morning America and i’ll buy most anything she sells. But this was special. As she sang about her manifest destiny. How she would be recognized and loved for her work, I felt a catharsis happen within me. A deep joy that reminded me it was worth it to hope. And then she hit the key change. Cue the water works.

The rest of the film was everything I wished it would be. Dancing through life was particularly entertaining and is a favorite of my wife and I in our apartment. Peter Dinklage killed it even though I spent 15 frustrating minutes trying to figure out who’s voice it was. Jeff Goldblum always feels like he’s doing a venture one commercial that he did for cash, but at least he’s consistent. Did I mention the choreography???

 As the film came to a close I was more than satisfied and needed nothing more to make my experience enjoyable. What I didn’t realize is that I was about to be visited by the past in a way that made my viewing not only enjoyable, but meaningful.

In the middle of the finale “Defying Gravity” I was met again with the same specific sense of joy from “The Wizard and I”. Why was it so specific I wondered? As I saw the famous final pose of Elpheba it hit me. I’ve seen this before. “Duh you’re a theatre kid Avery, of course you have”.

But where? And when? It had been so long.

My joy was coming from a memory. The only other time I had seen Wicked was on an eighth grade field trip with my drama class. It was the day I decided I wanted to be an actor. As the final riff rang out and the orchestra played, I was flooded with memories of chasing my dreams all those years that have led me across the country to New York City. I looked back on that little boy and was so proud of him for all the hard work and courage that brought me to today.

It's cheesy right? A theater Kid blubbering over wicked. But that’s why musicals are the way they are. They’re created by people who feel big and dream even bigger.

The best part of seeing wicked is that my wife is truly obsessed with it now. She knows it better than I do.  If only I could get her to listen to the second half of the musical…