Wicked: For Good

In Wicked, Oz was a place of grand stages, vibrant colors, and political theater. In Wicked: For Good, however, little remains of that initial lightheartedness. The friendship between Elphaba and Glinda is no longer about whether two very different people can find common ground, but whether their bond can endure when both have long since made decisions that place them on opposite sides of the same society.

Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) now lives outside the official order of Oz. To the public, she has become the dangerous Wicked Witch of the West, while she herself continues to fight against the oppression of animals and the Wizard’s power. Glinda (Ariana Grande) finds herself almost at the opposite end of the spectrum. As Glinda the Good, she is part of that glittering public narrative that promises the people of Oz security. She enjoys recognition, influence, and a role that fits perfectly with the image others want to see in her.

This also shifts the focus of the story. The first film thrived on watching Elphaba and Glinda’s mutual dislike slowly give way to closeness. Now they’ve known each other for a long time. The problem isn’t a lack of understanding, but the consequences of that understanding. Glinda knows who Elphaba really is. Elphaba, in turn, knows why Glinda acts the way she does. Neither can simply dismiss the other as an adversary. That is precisely why their diverging paths become more painful.

Consequently, Cynthia Erivo plays Elphaba less as an outsider searching for her place. Her character has stopped seeking approval. The energy of her performance becomes more controlled, tougher, and at times lonelier. Erivo doesn’t need to rely on grand gestures all the time. Much of it stems from the way Elphaba views a world whose rules she has now seen through—and whose judgment of her nevertheless has concrete consequences.

Ariana Grande’s Glinda is given the more complicated task, because her character has outwardly achieved exactly what she once aspired to. She is seen. She is admired. She holds social significance. Yet Grande repeatedly makes it clear that public impact and personal certainty are not the same thing. The comedic lightness that Glinda brought to the first film doesn’t disappear entirely, but it takes on a different undertone. Her talent for commanding a space is no longer just charming self-presentation; it has become part of her role.

Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero stands between these two worlds, while Jeff Goldblum’s Wizard and Michelle Yeoh’s Madame Morrible embody the very power structures Elphaba is fighting against. The film doesn’t need to develop a complicated political theory to make this point. Its mechanisms are deliberately simple: a society is given a clearly identifiable enemy figure, fear breeds consent, and a story repeated often enough eventually becomes public truth. Oz remains a fairy-tale world, but the behavior of its inhabitants is very human.

It is precisely here that the well-known myth surrounding the Wicked Witch takes its most interesting turn. Wicked: For Good doesn’t simply tell the backstory of a famous villain. The film explores the question of who, if anyone, has the right to determine what role a person will later play in a story. “Good” and “evil” also function as labels in Oz. Glinda is declared the good one. Elphaba, the evil one. Both women are more complex than these terms suggest, but a public image doesn’t need complex people. It needs clear-cut characters.

Jon M. Chu continues to stage this development as a grand musical and makes no attempt to hide the material’s theatrical origins. The sets are allowed to be opulent, the movements grand, the emotions even grander. At the same time, the world feels less like a place of boundless possibilities than it did in the first film. The architecture, costumes, and crowds often take on an intimidating quality. Where wonder once dominated, it’s now more palpable just how much Oz thrives on visuals and staging.

The music takes on a different function here than it did at the beginning of the story. Songs are not merely interludes in which characters express their feelings. They become moments of decision and self-definition. Erivo’s powerful voice matches Elphaba’s growing determination, while Grande combines her greater vocal lightness with a character whose inner situation is becoming less and less easy. When the two come together, the effect lies precisely in the contrast between their voices and personalities: two people can be very close to one another and still not make the same decision.

This inevitably makes Wicked: For Good less carefree than its predecessor. The story must now face consequences that the first film could initially only set the stage for. At the same time, it draws ever closer to that version of Oz that has long been part of cultural common knowledge. Chu uses this familiarity not merely as a device for recognition; it creates a peculiar tension because familiar images are suddenly viewed from a different perspective.

Thus, the colorful musical increasingly becomes a story about the power to interpret. Elphaba fights not only against specific adversaries but also against a version of herself that has long been disseminated without her consent. Glinda, in turn, must live with an image that grants her advantages while simultaneously defining her. Between them lies a friendship that is not measured by whether they follow the same paths, but by what remains of the other when they do not.