A Green Icon for Women of all Colour
On a chilly Saturday evening, all cozied up with a hot bowl of homemade chilli, I finally watched John M. Chu’s Wicked (2024), four months after its theatre release. Don’t judge me.
I was already somewhat familiar with the original Broadway play that opened in 2003 with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chynoweth, starring respectively as the Wicked Witch of West, Elphaba, and the Good Witch of the East, Galinda (Glinda). I also just discovered it was based upon Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, a novel published in 1995 and written by Gregory Maguire.
However, I was unprepared for the rollercoaster of emotions that the movie put me through. It’s always interesting to see how one experiences the same work of art at different stages of their lives.
When I was first introduced to Wicked, the musical, my first impression of it was very superficial. The political undertone of the story was completely lost on me, although I always understood that Elphaba was ostracized because she was “different” and Glinda was loved because she was always “just right.”
This time around, I saw Wicked for all its realistic and dark glory, and came to the conclusion that Elphaba isn’t just a green witch. Elphaba is an icon and inspiration for all women of colour.
Elphaba’s journey throughout the movie is nothing surprising to the women of colour who do not conform to the delicate, petite and pixie-like beauty standards revered by society. Her looks, however, are not the only thing that people run away from. It is her unapologetically loud and deviant attitude, in addition to her powerful nature.
Having grown up shunned and hated by her father all of her life, Elphaba is no stranger to society casting her out. However, she doesn’t act meek. Quite the opposite — she is quippy and sarcastic, beating everyone to the punch.
Upon everyone’s first impressions of her, Elphaba simply answers with, “Fine, might as well get this over with, no I’m not sea sick, yes I’ve always been green, no I didn’t eat grass as a child.”
Her green skin represents an allegory for anything in one’s appearance considered “different” or “out of the ordinary” (whatever that means!): a slightly bigger nose than average, a darker complexion, freckled skin, textured unruly hair … the list goes on. In modern world terms, ya ain’t white.
People only seem to start noticing Elphaba more positively when Glinda gives her a makeover so she can be “popular” among her fellow students. Elphaba starts wearing her hair down in a half-updo, just like her blonde counterpart, even going as far as emulating Glinda’s signature hair flip to seem quirky and cute.
But what really struck me wasn’t the physical makeover, nor was it the change in the students’ attitudes once Elphaba and Glinda started becoming close.
It was Madame Morrible’s treatment of Elphaba.
Madame Morrible — powerful sorceress, headmistress of Crage Hall at Shiz University and cohort of The Wizard of Oz — in all her grey haired glory, takes Elphaba under her wing for the entirety of the film, after first witnessing the latter’s powers at Shiz’s great hall.
As the story goes, we are made to believe that Madame Morrible is just honing Elphaba’s craft so she can become a better sorceress. But upon closer inspection, Madame Morrible doesn’t teach her anything. She just taunts her student, trying to gauge how her powers work and what can activate them, like when she reminds Elphaba of the hateful message left on Dr. Dillamond’s board to see if the anger will get her to cast a spell.
This all comes to a head in the final moments of the movie, when Elphaba and Glinda go to the Emerald City to see the wizard. Elphaba reads a spell in the Grimmerie, giving wings to the monkeys against her will. Once she realizes she’d been used, she rebels and runs away, leading Madame Morrible to vilify her in front of all of Oz, painting her as a wicked witch.
The moment becomes a brilliant depiction of what happens when you defy the system, when your talent does not serve them anymore. Madame Morrible used Elphaba’s powers for her own agenda, but once she realizes Elphaba could not be subdued, she decides to shift her focus to what she could control: the reputation around the Green Girl.
And it got me thinking just how many women of colour throughout the years have been villainized and criticized. Because they refuse to conform to the system that was oppressing them, denying against their own erasure. It got me thinking how many times those same women are still villainized in everyday life, but become praised when shown on the big screen, mimicking the irony of it all.
So this is for all the Elphabas out there as this Women’s History Month comes to a close. Keep on defying gravity – even if you’re flying solo, at least you’re flying free.