Wicked

Director: Jon M. Chu
Starring: Cynthia Erivo, Ariana Grande, Jonathan Bailey, Ethan Slater, Bowen Yang, Peter Dinklage, Michelle Yeoh, Jeff Goldblum, Marissa Bode, Andy Nyman, Courtney Mae-Briggs, Keala Settle
Running Time: 160 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

While the feature adaptation of Wicked reaps all the benefits of having a Tony Award-winning musical as its blueprint, just a glance at how many other equally successful productions failed on the big screen indicated it could be an uphill climb director Jon M. Chu. Part of this stems from The Wizard of Oz being such a respected property that remakes, reboots, and prequels are rarely attempted, even in an era where everything's fair game. 

With his wildly popular 1995 novel, author Gregory Mcguire managed to clear one of the biggest hurdles by writing a speculative origin story that functioned more as a companion piece to L. Frank Baum's books and the classic 1939 film, making it ripe material for the stage. So to pull this off, Chu would need to balance all the spectacle with heavier political themes that aren't often found in family entertainment. And yet against those odds he somehow conjures the ideal tone to deliver one of the genre's better efforts in years, disproving the theory that Hollywood can't seem to get musicals right anymore.

In the Land of Oz, citizens of Munchkinland celebrate the Wicked Witch of the West's death as Glinda The Good (Ariana Grande) tells them of the friendship she shared with the Witch, Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo) while both attended Shiz University. Shunned at birth by father Governor Thropp (Andy Nyman) due to her green skin and magical abilities, Elphaba will accompany paraplegic younger sister Nessarose (Marissa Bode) to Shiz. But her uncontrollable powers lead Dean of Sorcery Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) to take notice, enrolling and privately mentoring her at the school. 

Immediately ostracized by fellow students, Elphaba's forced to board with perky, self absorbed Glinda, who couldn't be more her opposite. The two constantly clash while Elphaba fights for the rights of Dr. Dillamond (voiced by Peter Dinklage), a talking goat facing discrimination as one of the last remaining animal professors. With the arrival of rebellious prince Fiyero Tigelaar (Jonathan Bailey) leaving Glinda smitten, she and Elphaba surprisingly start to forge a bond. But when the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) hears of the latter's skills, the pair's trip to meet him at the Emerald City changes everything.

A heavy emphasis is placed on the prejudice green skinned Elphaba faces from basically everyone, though some more blatantly than others. Between her peers' inability to look beyond appearance and the frustration she feels toward her own unloving father, we assume she'll soon be on the Yellow Brick Road to evil. But it's more complicated than that, with some turns in Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox's script that establish this as more of a story about injustice and oppression. In this case, what's right just so happens to be whatever the majority decides, which is bad news for Elphaba, who can only make temporary progress in challenging that. 

Madame Morrible is the first to recognize that Elphaba's otherness doesn't make her a freak, but a prodigy whose powers can be properly channeled to make a difference in Oz, whatever that might entail. And while the universally admired Glinda initially attempts to befriend Elphaba in the emptiest, showiest manner possible, a surprising development occurs that sees these mismatched personalities click, resulting in the film's most audacious musical number, "Popular." Dealing with the awesome responsibility of her powers, Elphaba's elated by the acceptance that comes from this new friendship with Glinda, even if it's compromised by her growing feelings for Fiyero.

Elphaba's path from disrespected social outcast to the Land of Oz's greatest hope is full of all sorts of emotional detours that Erivo fills through these musical numbers and the smaller moments in between. At one point Glinda pushes back on the notion Elphaba doesn't care what people think, correctly assessing that she definitely does, but chooses to hide it. That's also an accurate a description of what Erivo brings to a character who's struggling every minute to contain her resentment. 

Grande's comic timing, facial expressions and delivery are a delight in channeling this prissy do- gooder who falls somewhere between Legally Blonde's Elle Woods and a Kewpie doll, Unpeeling the layers of an initially superficial character, Grande makes Glinda likably endearing even at her most selfish, and especially when she goes against the grain to help her new friend, guiding everyone else to follow. Unfortunately, this victory is short-lived once the pair arrive in the Emerald City to meet the all powerful Wizard, eccentrically played by a brilliant Jeff Goldblum.

With at least another installment left to go, the big reveal gives both diehards and those unfamiliar with the musical a fascinating lens through which to view Oz, stretching preconceived notions of these iconic characters. With citizens gaslighted into compliance by an authoritarian regime, a scapegoated Elphaba is again forced to fight the system, "defying gravity" in more ways than one. Glinda faces no such pushback, blessed with the popularity to blind and insulate her from this fascist fallout for reasons not yet completely clear.

Insanely catchy songs, elaborate production and costume design,and two revelatory performances negate any drawback to reaching the end of a nearly three hour film before being told to stay tuned. Wicked's messaging isn't subtle but shouldn't be since it springs from material that strikes a sharper chord now than when the Broadway musical premiered in 2003. But more importantly, it works as a fun, intriguing adventure by subverting all expectations of what a fantasy can be. 

Don't Look Up

Director: Adam McKay
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Rob Morgan, Cate Blanchett, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill, Mark Rylance, Tyler Perry, Timothée Chalamet, Ron Perlman, Ariana Grande, Scott Mescudi, Himesh Patel, Melanie Lynskey, Michael Chiklis
Running Time: 138 min.  
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The loudest conversations surrounding Adam McKay's sci-fi satire, Don't Look Up, might center on the likelihood of an event as cataclysmic as what's threatened in the film actually occurring. But that depends on what you consider the real tragedy. A comet potentially wiping out the planet or the hilariously awful ineptitude in which that information's handled by the supposedly smartest, most capable in our society, entrusted to make decisions for humanity's well-being. Could any of this happen? The quickest answer is that it just did, only not with a comet, and this is what gives McKay's film so much power, lifting it from social commentary into something far more scathing and relevant. But that's only half the story, as it takes aim some of the biggest, timeliest targets imaginable, rarely missing.

Having already directed the polarizing The Big Short and Vice, McKay's no stranger to walking a tightrope that sometimes frustrates as many viewers as it delights, but this is operating on a much higher plane. What's most surprising about is how he manages to repeatedly hit these impossible marks, bringing the laughs for almost two and a half hours straight. You sit there expecting it to completely run out of steam because it's just so broad and of the moment, but the truth just keeps funneling through, exposing self-interested government and society that have no idea how pathetically clueless they are. Not that they'd care anyway.  

Whatever divisive reactions exist to the the film itself, it's much harder to claim Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence or even Meryl Streep have ever tackled the kinds of parts they're given here. It feels like a real first, witnessing performers of their caliber strongly playing against preconceptions to juggle some really difficult material they likely jumped at the chance of challenging themselves with. Uncomfortably hilarious, it holds a harsh, revealing mirror up to a society many will recognize as pitifully identical to the one we've been living in for the past couple of years, if not far longer.

When Michigan State University astronomy doctoral candidate Kate Dibiasky (Lawrence) discovers a previously unseen comet hurling toward Earth, her mentor and professor, Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) comes to the frightening calculation that it'll hit in six months, resulting in an "extinction level event." Joined by NASA's Planetary Defense Coordination head, Dr. Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), they're summoned to the White House to present this information to disinterested President Janie Orlean (Streep) and her obnoxious son and Chief of Staff, Jason (Jonah Hill). With midterm elections on the horizon and a scandal involving a Supreme Court Justice nominee breaking, Orlean selfishly advises them to just sit on it to avoid more bad press.

Shaken by the President's apathy, Kate and Randall leak the news to the media at Oglethorpe's urging,  soon discovering that the public may also not be as receptive to this information as they thought. But with Orlean's popularity dipping amidst further scandal, she realizes her team may be able to use this impending catastrophe and the scientists to her political advantage. With the help of billionaire tech CEO and key donor Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance), Orlean's plan for handing the comet crisis is put into motion, dividing the nation and sowing unneeded doubt about its very real danger. It'll be up to Kate and Randall to convince the public what's really happening, but it might be too late, as the rapidly approaching comet remains on course to take out human civilization. 

From the very start, there's an anti-science sentiment Kate and Randall have to battle that quickly chips away at everything they knew about themselves and how the government, media and public view their work and competency. Or more accurately, people just don't like bad news and will come up with any excuse not to receive it. Undermined and humiliated from the moment of discovery, they're  now in over their heads, sucked into a machine intended to dismantle and destroy them for stating facts. While it appears one of them is more capable of handing this, even that doesn't end up being true, with the situation understandably rattling them both to their core in very different ways. 

The astronomers have unknowingly entered an arena where Earth's impending demise is laughed off and mocked by fluff morning TV hosts Brie Evantee and Jack Bremmer (Cate Blanchett and Tyler Perry), whose phony banter, goofy jokes and insistence on "keeping things light" result in some of the film's funniest, but most depressingly realistic moments. Blanchett and Perry are so good in these scenes, perfectly capturing the kind of annoying, celebrity and social media obsessed camera hogs flooding the air on every major "news" outlet. With hosts far more interested in music star Riley Bina's (Ariana Grande) recent breakup with DJ Chello (Scott Mescudi) than a comet wiping out Earth, the scientists start realizing the level of stupidity they're up against, which extends far beyond just the political spectrum.     

The journey DiCaprio takes Randall on is really something, as this seemingly nerdy, Xanax popping, numbers-obsessed scientist has to find his media sea legs after being thrust into the spotlight. A simple man enjoying a comfortable, if pleasantly mundane life back home with his devoted wife June (Melanie Lynskey) and grown kids, he's suddenly a huge celebrity pressured into telling everyone what they want to hear. And as those drawbacks and rewards push back against his principles, he'll have to make some tough moral choices. As a weakened Randall teeters on the verge of implosion, DiCaprio has what might be his best scene out of many, completely snapping as he channels Peter Finch's Howard Beale in Network with a breakdown that feels like the culmination of everything this guy and the country's been put through.

As Randall adjusts to becoming a media sensation, it's Kate taking the brunt of the backlash, framed as a fear-mongering psycho despite being more well-adjusted and sensible than most. Publicly demeaned by everyone from her journalist boyfriend (Himesh Patel) to the President herself, she's the character who earns the most amount of empathy, as even the naming of the "Dibiasky Comet" feels like an intentional slap in the face, putting an even bigger target of unjustifiable blame on her back. 

With an seemingly permanent look on her face conveying utter disbelief at this insanity, Lawrence's "comeback" performance after a three year break ranks as one of her most nuanced and fascinating, reminding us all what we've missed. Between the President's cruel categorization of her as a poster girl for "disaffected youth and mental illness" and her son's sarcastic cheap shots at Kate's looks and intelligence, Lawrence conveys her character's boiling impatience and frustration with often just a single, piercing glance that speaks volumes. Beaten down through much of the film, she never makes Kate a doormat, imbuing her with the strength and resourcefulness to curb this corrupt hypocrisy, regardless of the consequences.

McKay also incorporates all these smaller details into the script that make for a surreal viewing experience, like the fact this narcissistic, power-hungry President has her own incompetent son serving as Chief of Staff, adding nepotism and cronyism to the list of malfeasance. And if it's going to still be a long running complaint that Streep's nominated for anything, why isn't she even being discussed for this? It's one of the rare recent examples of her taking a huge unexpected leap with this blistering portrayal of a delusional Commander in Chief that may contain some Hillary Clinton mannerisms, but by the actress's own admission, is entirely based on Trump. What's most impressive is the nonchalant arrogance with which Streep plays Orlean, who never once considers the option that anyone will hesitate in doing exactly what she says while happily kissing her ass at the same time. And sadly, she's completely right.

Mark Rylance is weirdly brilliant as BASH cellular CEO Peter Isherwell, a nightmare hybrid of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Steve Jobs, Richard Branson or any other eccentric, self-absorbed tech billionaire promising to better everyone's lives. There's an expected way to play someone like this, but McKay has Rylance throw that rule book out the window, instead giving him these delightfully strange quirks that add so much to the persona. From Isherwell's odd accent to the creepy calmness, he's either mumbling unintelligibly, leaving out words or staring into space while talking, often making no sense whatsoever. It would have been so easy and predictable to play him as this kind of evil overlord, but McKay's smarter than that, knowing it's the disingenuous benevolence that makes this character resonate. Rylance goes all in, providing his own bizarre take on how these very recognizable personality types behave. 

There have been complaints about film's length, but in this particular case it feels strangely warranted, and that's coming from someone who cringes at any comedy or drama going beyond the two-hour mark. As with any picture, you could probably find areas to trim and tighten, but there's nothing egregiously obvious here. If pressed, even the two weakest sub-plots involving Ariana Grande's pop star character and Kate's relationship with a skateboarding shoplifter named Yule (Timothée Chalamet) don't unnecessarily extend the proceedings. The former is given brief, proportional screen time while you could argue Lawrence and Chalamet's performances help land that latter storyline land in a much better, more meaningful place heading into the third act. As for supposed issues with tone, given the material needs to alternate wildly between laugh-out-loud satire and dramatic events that suddenly seem a lot less fictional now, McKay remains remarkably consistent.               

Just when you think this has run out of people and ideas to skewer or went as far over-the-top as possible, its ending moves the goalpost. But none of it would work if there wasn't something real there with characters who are invested with a depth that make them work as both parodies and people. Comparisons have inevitably been made to Dr. Strangelove, but a more accurate reference point might be the similarly misunderstood, even less easily digestible Southland Tales, in which an eclectic, all-star cast of actors are placed inside an ambitiously imagined universe on the brink of socio-political collapse. Don't Look Up allows us to laugh at all the absurdity, relieved that someone finally had the guts to just say it, and this entertainingly well. With an evergreen quality likely to hold up over repeated viewings, it's the ultimate time capsule, providing a crazy snapshot of a world where the truth's become convenient to dismiss, but even easier to ignore.