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. 

The Grand Budapest Hotel

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Saoirse Ronan, Edward Norton, F. Murray Abraham, Mathieu Amalric, Jude Law, Harvey Keitel, Bill Murray, Léa Seydoux, Jason Schwartzman, Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson, Bob Balaban
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)
  
One thing Wes Anderson's never been accused of is his films having an overabundance of plot and action. Even his best work is thought of as primarily aesthetic achievements, his stories serving merely as backdrops for highly stylized costume and production design and visual flourishes. In some ways, the highest grossing and most favorably reviewed film of his career, The Grand Budapest Hotel, doesn't represent a deviation from that classic Anderson template. And yet it also somehow does. This is the closest he's come to directing a screwball action comedy and it contains more story and characters than most would know what to do with. For the first hour I thought I was watching a masterpiece, but by the second he kind of lost me, before recovering and delivering something that's still special. There's a nostalgiac sadness hiding under the humor  that stays with you, as the many colorful characters populating the hotel mourn an era that's rapidly slipping away, or in the case of some, slipped away a while ago. But at the same time, the whole thing still manages to be a lot of fun.

Featuring a story within a story within a story, the film opens in the present day with a teenage girl reading the memoir of an unnamed "Author" (Tom Wilkinson), who narrates the book from his office in 1985, recalling his stay at Europe's Grand Budapest Hotel in 1968. It was then, with the hotel clearly in decline, that the young Author (played by Jude Law) encountered its elderly, reclusive owner, Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham). Over dinner, he tells him the incredible story of how he took ownership of the hotel. We flash back to 1932 when young Zero (Tony Revolori) worked as a lobby boy under the Grand Budapest's eccentric concierge, Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), running errands and tending to the guests.

It's when one of Gustave's many older, wealthy mistresses, Madame D (Tilda Swinton) dies under strange circumstances and she leaves him a valuable painting, he finds himself at the center of a murder investigation and the target of her son Dmitri's (Adrien Brody) hired assassin, J.G. Jopling (Willem Dafoe). With the help of Zero and hotel baker Agatha (Saorise Ronan), he must evade capture and clear his name, even as war breaks out in their Republic of Zubrowka, signaling a cultural shift that will heavily impact all their futures.

I want to live in this hotel. That was my first thought upon seeing the majestic structure, which is rendered not by some fake looking CGI in wide, exterior shots but an actual handmade miniature model. Remember those? But it's what happens inside that ends being more impressive, with some jawdropping production design that makes you anxious to discover what secret or character is hiding behind every corridor, room and crevice of the building. The atmosphere may draw you in, but it's the story that keeps you there, as there's this pervading sense of melancholy that distinguishes it from Anderson's other work, despite still being very recognizable as such. The story's not only bigger than usual for him, but broader in scope and crossing over multiple timelines.

While Anderson's a filmmaker almost compulsively obsessed with the past, he's at least now found the ideal outlet by creating a story where all his characters are equally obsessed. Nearly every recognizable name in this fully stacked cast is given at least a moment or two to shine, but the the movie really hangs its hat on the friendship that develops between Ralph Fiennes' witty, somewhat delusional Gustave and his impressionable young lobby boy, Zero, played by newcomer Revolori. Not necessarily known for his comedic skills, Fiennes gives what may be his most memorable performance since his very different one in Schindler's List, while Revolori makes the perfect straight man to his zaniness. Of the rest, Goldblum and Ronan each make valuable contributions, while Jude Law and F. Murray Abraham breath real life and history into roles that could have come off as expository or mere bookenders. The rest of the cast have what amount to cameos, checking the usual boxes of Anderson's favorite actors. If pressed, the section during which Gustave and Zero find themselves on the run from authorities is the weakest, before the story regains its footing in the last third.        

This is actually one of Anderson's messier films, but that's of little consequence considering how ambitious the undertaking is and the ease by which it would rank amongst his most visually daring. He really swung for the fences this time and there's explanation as to why it all works other than the fact that he's become a brand unto himself, with no other filmmaker viewing the world quite like he does. As usual, his whimsical style perfectly suits oddball material, but it isn't calling as much attention to itself as it is reflecting the story's darker themes. And this is all about telling stories, to the point you could easily categorize it as a great epic novel put to film, right down to the impeccably realized hotel of the film's title, which seems as much alive (or in some cases as dead) as those inhabiting it. The more you start considering how much he accomplished here, the larger it looms.