Rating: ★★★​​★½

Directed by Jon M. Chu

Starring Cynthia Erivo, Ariana Grande, Jonathan Bailey, Jeff Goldblum, Michelle Yeoh

Rated PG

Release Date: Nov. 21

Editor’s note: Rejoicify, fellow Ozians! This is a spoiler-free review of ‘Wicked: For Good.’

As we grow up, we often find that reaching for our dreams is never a linear, straight-shot road. Those who choose not to change for good create monsters of the defiant, who rightfully stray from their yellow-bricked path.

So, what lies down the path less taken, beyond the Emerald City? “Wicked: For Good,” the sequel to Universal’s Broadway-based blockbuster “Wicked,” sends the audience into a “thrillifying” twister through the sky. A tale as old as time, this story mourns the loss of innocence that comes with growing up, warns those who don’t take risks by depicting the consequences of staying behind, and presents a tragic conclusion that wonders: Can humanity really be saved from the pain and insecurity of looking back into the past? 

What is “good,” and what is “wicked”? When is it time to give up? When is it time to go? “Wicked: For Good” attempts to answer these existential questions, and it hits home, especially for those who think of themselves as the daring, defiant, and different. Its predecessor may almost seem frivolous and jesting in comparison to this decisive, operatic tragedy. However, further reflection finds that the stakes were always this high for Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the Wicked Witch of the West. By embracing her so-called “delusions of grandeur,” trusting her instincts, and departing from her past, Elphaba risks demise to truly discover and test her limits.

In the first “Wicked” film, Elphaba emerges from the shadows of her disappointed family in an incomparable display of magical powers. She is recruited by Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), the head of Shiz University, to hone and amplify her abilities. At Shiz, she is ostracized for her differences but finds happiness in befriending her nemesis and roommate, Glinda (Ariana Grande). However, it becomes clear that the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) and Morrible have ulterior motives for Elphaba’s powers — they are excommunicating the talking animal population from Oz. Determined to bring justice to her endangered friends, Elphaba defies gravity and the Wizard declares her an enemy of the state. 

This is where the second movie starts off: Glinda transforms into the Good Witch of the North and, at first, gives no credence to Elphaba’s inner good. To maintain her standing in Oz, she swiftly assumes a facade of goodness birthed by years of privilege. Nessarose (Marissa Bode), Elphaba’s sister, assumes her father’s role as the Governor of Munchkinland and implements dictatorial policies over the town’s citizens, dragging her ambiguous relationship with the munchkin Boq (Ethan Slater) into the mix. Glinda’s fiance, Prince Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), falls desperately in love with Elphaba for her authenticity, which has intrigued him ever since they first met at school. Then, to make things even worse, Dorothy (Bethany Weaver) drops in on the scene, and the high-strung tensions of this plot come to a head. 

As a movie musical, “Wicked: For Good” fulfills its Broadway-born promises. Grande’s vocal range introduces complexity to her character in “Thank Goodness,” while Erivo’s take on “No Good Deed” brings the house down. The intense duet ballad “As Long as You’re Mine” breaks a sweat between the romantically yearning Erivo and Bailey. Slater subverts expectations as well; his solos in the first movie were silly and brief — only a minor piece of the metal — but he alloys terror with tragedy in the sequel. 

The two heroines’ superb acting stands out as the most accolade-worthy element of the film. Both Grande and Erivo deserve their flowers: Their alchemical harmony in any moment, particularly in the “For Good” scene, proves that female friendships warrant more screentime in all universes. These women have undoubtedly cemented their place as one of the most iconic duos in film history. 

Grande and Erivo’s execution of their characters perfectly embodies the rich dichotomy between their personas and choices. Glinda’s bright pink wardrobe and loud popularity present privilege and accessibility to the Ozian public; Elphaba’s dark aesthetic and quiet confidence present singularity and mystery, which obscures her innate goodness under the sheath of her black cape. The people of Oz cannot see the tenacity of spirit in compassion, peace, and understatement. Instead of trying to understand the beauty in these qualities, people like the Wizard and Morrible choose to vilify and hunt down those who possess these traits in an attempt to cling to their own fragile power. 

The unfortunate souring of Glinda and Elphaba’s relationship — driven by their diverging interests — is a testament to how maturing often comes with outgrowing the relationships we once relied on. The film echoes this theme through the literal transformations of other characters: Their altered appearances mirror the process of aging and letting go of youth, which distorts our perceptions of what is good and beautiful. Yet, the witches’ forgiveness for each other’s distance as they move forward, which flows forth from their springs and conquers all else, reflects most wonderfully off the waters running through Oz.

Despite stunning performances and valuable lessons, the film has a few shortcomings, largely due to structural weaknesses in the original play. Most notable is Fiyero, whose story deserved more development. During the prince’s rare onscreen presence, director Jon M. Chu’s guidance helps channel Bailey’s mastery as the tormented romantic lead. The actor’s magnetism is elevated by revealing close-ups and torturously threaded eyebrows. A man is “sexiest” — wink wink — when he surrenders nonchalance and taps into his sensitivity; it’s a shame that Bailey could only work with limited screentime. Regardless of the plot’s weaknesses, though, the entire cast and crew make the best of their parts.

Elphaba gets the final say as she sweeps between quiet towns, having changed Oz for the better. Her divergence from the crowd parallels other stories that have celebrated human virtuosity in 2025. As another green-skinned “monster,” The Creature in Mary Shelley’s novel and Guillermo del Toro’s recent adaptation of “Frankenstein,” proclaims: “To you, I am obscene, but to me, I simply am.” When fear forges monstrosity within the innocent and asks what became of our youth, “Wicked: For Good” gracefully sets forth that it’s time to grow on — changed for good, but called elsewhere over the rainbow.