Following the success of Wicked: Part One, released in UK cinemas in November 2024, fans…
Following the success of Wicked: Part One, released in UK cinemas in November 2024, fans once again flocked to theatres last month for the second instalment of the duology. Cinemas filled with emerald cloaks, pink ballgowns and green face paint as audiences turned the release into an event. But did Wicked: For Good live up to the hype- and can the fandom sustain itself beyond the spectacle?
The first film was widely praised, earning an impressive 88% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 7.4/10 on IMDb, winning two Oscars and two BAFTAs for costume and production design, as well as the Golden Globe for cinematic and box office achievement. The second entry, while still successful, saw a noticeable dip in critical reception, scoring 68% on Rotten Tomatoes and a steady 7/10 on IMDb.
The journey to this cultural moment has been more than a century in the making. It began in 1900 with L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz book series, which eventually led to the beloved 1939 film starring Judy Garland. Nearly sixty years later, Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked reimagined Oz from the perspective of its witches, introducing a darker, overtly political narrative. This was later adapted into Stephen Schwartz’s stage musical, which premiered in 2003 and softened much of the novel’s cynicism into whimsy and sentimentality. The musical quickly developed a devoted fanbase, making the announcement of a two-part film adaptation, directed by Jon M. Chu, feel inevitable.
By the time Wicked reached cinemas, it had become more than a movie. Its songs, fashion, memes and meticulously choreographed press tour dominated social media, making it almost impossible to avoid. In many ways, the cultural conversation surrounding Wicked eclipsed the films themselves.
To say the Wicked press tour sparked a cultural movement would be an understatement. Much of the attention centred on its stars, Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba Thropp) and Ariana Grande (Galinda), whose emotional closeness during interviews became a fixation for fans. This intimacy, endlessly circulated online, blurred the line between authenticity and branding, turning vulnerability into a marketable aesthetic. Alongside this, widespread concern emerged over the actors’ visible weight loss throughout the production, which many described as ‘alarming”. Rather than being treated as an industry failure, these bodies were folded into the film’s promotional image, reflecting a wider cultural shift back toward’ extreme thinness and early-2000s “skinny chic”, whilst also circulating a wider concern over the right to an opinion on women’s bodies- celebrities or otherwise.
This beauty era, defined by minimalism, fragility and restraint, has been widely read as a symptom of cultural regression, even framed by some as a recession-era indicator: when social and economic instability rise, so too does the policing of bodies, particularly those of women. In this context, Wicked occupies an uneasy position. While its performances and vocals are undeniably powerful, the film risks reproducing the very hierarchies it seeks to critique, offering young audiences a spectacle of empowerment that remains tethered to restrictive ideals of femininity. That this controversy did little to deter audiences is telling; Wicked: For Good grossed $475 million worldwide by December 2025, becoming the biggest opening ever for a Broadway adaptation, proving that discomfort does not preclude commercial success.
At its strongest, however, Wicked weaponises its own popularity to expose the mechanisms of power it depicts. The story’s political themes- state propaganda, the manufacturing of fear, and the demonisation of dissenters and those deemed “other”- resonate sharply with contemporary global politics, and the shift towards conservatism and the mainstreaming of the far-right the world has seen since the early 20s and the COVID-19 pandemic. Elphaba’s transformation into a public enemy is not simply a fantasy arc but a familiar political narrative, one in which moral complexity is flattened into spectacle for mass consumption. In leaning into its allegorical roots, Wicked reminds audiences that Oz has always functioned as a mirror for the real world- and that the line between fantasy and political reality is thinner than we might like to believe.
Among the musical theatre community, reception to Wicked: For Good has been notably more fractured than the near-universal enthusiasm that greeted Part One. While Cynthia Erivo’s vocal performance as Elphaba has been widely praised for its technical control and emotional power, some fans have argued that numbers that thrive on live momentum feel restrained by cinematic pacing. Others have criticised the film’s relationship to spectacle over storytelling, noting that Part Two inherits the weaker narrative structure of the second act of the stage musical, but without the immediacy of a live audience to compensate. For long-time fans, this has reignited a familiar debate: whether Wicked is most powerful as a communal theatrical experience, or whether its translation to film inevitably smooths over the messier, more emotionally volatile qualities that made it beloved in the first place.
While Wicked: For Good lacks the freshness and critical momentum of Part One, its cultural dominance cannot be dismissed. The film exists at the intersection of fandom, politics and spectacle, embodying both the strengths and contradictions of its moment. In doing so, it confirms Wicked not simply as a nostalgic revival, but as a text still capable of provoking, unsettling and reflecting the world that consumes it.
Millie Paget.