As Elphaba approached that iconic final riff my heart soared at the imagery of her coming into her full power (Picture: Giles Keyte/Universal Pictures via AP)
When I heard Wicked’s Elphaba belting ‘If I’m flying solo, at least I’m flying free’, something in my mind fundamentally clicked into place.
The wonderful world of Oz has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. At an early age I fell in love with Dorothy and the Emerald City in L. Frank Baum’s classic children’s novel and wore the pages thin with constant re-reading.
A few years later, I watched the 1939 film version in all its technicolour glory and felt an inexplicable yearning whenever I listened to Judy Garland’s Somewhere Over the Rainbow – a rendition that moves me to tears nearly every time I hear it.
Little did I know that there was already a musical spinoff called Wicked that would soon become an incredibly important part of my adolescence and my discovery of self-empowerment.
Until then, in the big and small ways, Oz seamlessly nestled its way into my life.
I found immense amounts of consolation in the motley crew of Yellow Brick Road travellers – the Cowardly Lion, the heartless Tin Man and the brainless Scarecrow – who found their way to one another despite their debilitating insecurities.
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As a queer Pakistani Muslim living in a predominantly white area and (for a long time) unable to come to terms with my identity, the themes of found family and unconditional love were a salve for what could be a very lonely existence.
Musicals were not a thing in my household growing up so everything I learnt about this world I had to discover myself – largely by accident.
But everything changed the first time I heard Defying Gravity, one of the most famous songs from Broadway’s Wicked, which spins the tale from the perspective of the notorious Wicked Witch of the West, aka Elphaba.
Legendary theatre stars Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth debuted as main characters Elphaba and Glinda the Good Witch on Broadway in 2003. Years later both singers appeared on Glee, the same show where I was treated to Lea Michele and Chris Colfer’s take on Defying Gravity, For Good and Popular.
This was my first introduction to Wicked but it was certainly not my last.
I can’t contain my excitement at the idea of how many young people may be discovering the magic of Oz for the first time (Picture: Giles Keyte/Universal Pictures via AP)
But it was when I experienced the former song live on stage – at this point I was a teenager full of anger at an unjust world that wouldn’t allow me to be my true self without fear of retribution – that something changed within me.
As Elphaba approached that iconic final riff my heart soared at the imagery of her coming into her full power and deciding to live for herself and the world she wanted to see – damn the consequences.
My love for the world of Oz grew tenfold. I found myself belting the lyrics in the shower, putting the soundtrack into my study playlists and instinctively seeking its embrace when I was at my lowest points.
It offered me a sense of empowerment so rarely seen in the media – where an outcast woman is the protagonist of her own story and a nuanced female friendship forms.
My unending adoration for Wicked is far from unique, something that has been made all the more clear in the lead up to Jon M Chu’s film adaptation starring Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo.
First and foremost, this is a tale for the underdogs in society (Picture: Giles Keyte/Universal Pictures via AP)
Countless fans have shared their stories of the strength Wicked has provided them in times of hardship and joy.
As Wicked gears up to reach audiences across the globe, I can’t contain my excitement at the idea of how many young people may be discovering the magic of Oz for the first time, just when they need it most.
First and foremost, this is a tale for the underdogs in society, whose voices have been ignored and overridden by those in power.
In particular, it warms my heart to see someone as passionate and dedicated as Cynthia playing Elphaba. Given the above themes, it is a role that Black women have long felt an affinity with, even if it has rarely been reflected on stage.
As put by Cynthia in a recent NYT interview: ‘The lore of Oz was very closed to girls who looked like me, and now I’m the Wicked Witch of the West. I think the doors are very open now, which is wonderful.’
Perhaps my favourite aspect about the tale of Wicked, and my greatest source of comfort, was that things did not end perfectly for Elphaba.
She lost her home, her family, the support of all she had ever known and yet by the end of the show she rises from the ashes to prove that yes, it is worth it.
What’s more, Wicked has acted as a gateway into musical theatre for scores of people who have ultimately been rescued by this accepting community and the treasure trove of stories within – and I have faith this movie will continue this trajectory.
It feels strange to think about the person I was when I first read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz all those years ago. I am not who I once was and there is a special kind of vindication knowing I can arrive at the cinema as unapologetically myself.
An achievement that would have been a pipe dream for my younger self.
Wicked arrives in cinemas on November 22.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk.
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