On Wicked and Queerness

Nessa, Nessa, I’ve got something to confess-a…

I actually wrote a version of this for something else, then they said they only wanted a paragraph, so I thought why not share some thoughts on Wicked and Queerness with the wider internet?

Wicked is not a ‘Queer film’ on the surface, but for me an ageing Millenial Musical Theatre fan, the film version felt like a Queer homecoming. Wicked has of course, always been a musical for the outsiders- Elphaba is an icon for all those who feel ‘different’ and after 20 years of loving the musical, hearing Cynthia Erivo proudly declare she didn’t want the Wizard to ‘degreenify’ her at the end of the film, was something I now felt in my 40-year-old Queer heart that I never did as the 20-year-old who first saw Wicked; I’m ok I don’t need you to change me, I like my difference. Seeing too, that musical I’d loved as a baby-Queer 20 years ago, now with a Queer woman in the lead role, alongside a gay leading man, in the biggest big screen musical of the year (of several years)...when you put that against the musical about a green girl that made the Queer musical theatre kids of the 00s feel seen…that feels magical. It’s not always the overtly Queer films that make us feel seen; sometimes, it’s the things that speak to us or the representation they offer behind the scenes…sometimes a beautiful intersection of both.

Wicked was, of course, one of the most anticipated films in 2024. But for those Queer theatre kids of the early 2000s, it’s not only been about 15 years in the making but also something of a homecoming. So while on the surface, it’s not a Queer film (though subtext is everything). For this Queer theatre kid of the 00’,s it’s been a huge part of our lives, our growing up. Even as someone who wouldn’t consider themselves a superfan (I mean, I have close friends who are in double and triple digits seeing i,t so my not super fan is relative). I was, however, a misfit kid who saw the show at 19, and it became part of the fabric of my musical theatre life. And (more on this later) for the musical theatre kids of the 00s, as I was (I found musicals at 17 in 2001) it is for better or worse those musicals that change you…for good.

And while it’s not a ‘Queer’ film, it also feels inherently a Queer film, not least because of the sheer number of Queer artists involved- from, of course, Elphaba herself, Cynthia Erivo, but also from the array of alumni of British musical theatre and dance who are in the film and members of the LGBTQ+ community.

Wicked has always been an allegory for many things—politically, the Bush Administration, and more broadly, metaphors for the Jewish experience with the casting of Idina Menzel as Elphaba. But Wicked is and has always spoken to queer folks. This is why, particularly as a Queer woman, it felt significant to have Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba. Because as significant as being a Black woman in the role, so is her Queerness (and something Erivo has spoken about too in her interviews). Erivo knows what it is like to be the outsider who is always out of step with the others. Who doesn’t think or feel like the others? There are many ways to read Elphaba, from ethnicity to neurodivergent to Queerness (sometimes all three, depending on the actor). Still, she’s someone that Queer audiences have gravitated to for two decades on stage. So having a Queer woman step into her shoes (or hat) feels powerful.

As does having a Queer woman at the helm of the biggest film of the year. An unapologetic Queer woman who embraces her style, her way of carrying herself. Alongside that, having Jonathan Bailey in the romantic lead as an out gay man is a watershed moment for many. And that he plays his Fieyro not only as the delightfully slutty Himbo we all deserve but also as a bisexual is the joy that many a teen fan of Wicked back in the early 00s could only have dreamed of.

But more than that, Wicked has always been a touchstone of Queer allegory for musical theatre nerds and dare we say it for the Queer Musical Theatre nerds of the 00s, this feels like a musical and Queer homecoming. It’s hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there what a time the early 00s were in musical theatre. Not least, there’s a particular sound and style (as with any era) that Wicked is part of, that again, like any er,a feels like a homecoming to those who were ‘raised’ by that era. But als,o the early 00s were an odd point in musical theatre fandom…we were in the early years of the internet still, and an era relatively without social media, but with online fandom in the form of forums and LiveJournal and Tumblr and the like. It was another time…but also again for those who were raised in it…a blissful nerdy time of musical theatre. We were still relatively in our bubble, and ye,s among that, the Queer kids found a place to play.

But also the lore…the lore that is connected to Wicked. One of the greatest friends I made on my Masters's Degree (who I’m still friends with to this day) was made when, amid much pretentious posturing by the Public Schoolboys of the course, I said to him ‘I didn’t know anyone else knew about Idina Menzel’s tracksuit.’ and if that’s not one Queer kid finding another I don’t know what is…

Wicked might not be about Queerness explicitly, but it was certainly a way the Queer kids found each other. It was a gateway musical theatre drug for a start; if someone liked Wicked back in the day, you could then test the waters with something a bit more musical theatre. Sure, they might have seen Wicked on a school trip or on holiday with their parents…but had they listened to Idina on See What I Wanna See (ok that would be niche going in at the deep end). What else had they seen…were they…one of us?

Look, there’s a reason Kurt in Glee wanted to be Elphaba as badly as Rachel ok?

Wicked is also a certain degree of Broadway camp chaos that the press tour has certainly embraced. The idea of the world's stage and seeing what finally happens when you unleash two theatre kids on the world has been nothing short of camp joy for those of us who were that theatre kid. But also the thing that we, the theatre kids, often the Queer theatre kids, were mocked for- loving deeply this thing called musical theatre- given true respect by the director John M Chu. Being given, for the first time in a while, a classy, loving production…that makes those theatre kids feel seen (yes, while we’re holding space for the lyrics of Defying Gravity still).

Not to mention that Cynthia. Our Queen. She’s one of us…those of us (ahem) a little bit older remember her from the start, and that’s not a flex. We’re just that fucking nerdy. We were seeing her in all the obscure things going, ‘Dam,n this girl can siiinng’ from way back. And ok, some of us were at RADA at the same time as her. That is a flex. But the point is, as a theatre community, we’ve been rooting for her and Johnny Bailey (ahem, reminder he was ours before Bridgerton got him). They are the Queer kids of musical theatre we grew up wit,h and seeing them win….feels like a win for the Millenial Queer kids of musical theatre.

And Wicked is that beautiful hymn to the outcasts and those told to change themselves. As a younger Queer person, I always hoped to have Elphaba’s power to stand up to her doubters. But it was in watching the film, where she says, ‘I don’t want you to take away my green’, that even this fan of 20 years felt and understood it; Wicked wasn’t ever just about standing up to those who oppressed you or doubted you or said you couldn’t be.

It’s a messy analogy in what is it’s fair to say is a messy musical at times. It’s imperfect…but that is why it kinda works too. It’s about imperfect people, sometimes unlikeable people, dealing with coming of age figuring out who they are, what they want, and where they do or don’t fit in. That feels inherently Queer too.

Wicked has always had a special place in my heart. As much as I was never a superfan, no theatre kid who was raised on Rent, and Mother Idina Menzel, who was 19 in 2004, who was the weird Queer theatre kid, could not have been pulled into Wicked’s orbit. On thinking about writing this, I realised I first saw it a couple of months before my Dad died and again literally three weeks later. I don’t recall any particular allegiance with Elphaba’s Daddy Issues, but hey, if the cape fits, I guess). But as a 20-something there was an affinity with the story's ‘finding yourself’ narrative even if I never thought to align it with my Queerness. I saw it again after a decade a few years back and was touched by its power of friendship. In a world where we put romantic love at the heart of every story, the love story (setting aside the queer undertones of the witches) is one of chosen family, friendship love, and isn’t that just inherently a Queer message?

And perhaps that’s it too, for the 00s theatre kids like me; the nostalgia of that musical that was one of our safe spaces as teens and as we grew. It’s not perfect (few things are.) I’m not even arguing it’s a perfect Queer analogy. But it’s a musical that meant something to this Queer kid, back when it was ‘Mother’ Idina screaming her battle cry from the cheery picker in the Gershwin. Getting to see it on screen this year, as a far more cynical 40-year-old, I was reminded that its message of stepping into who you are, embracing the thing that makes you different and letting yourself be seen for who you are, was important for the queer woman I had grown into. And with that, it touched something to see an iconic Queer Queen Cynthia Erivo, step into the role and give a rallying cry, perhaps bringing all those Queer theatre kids of the 00s back to something they loved, perhaps to see something more of themselves, see how they’d grown in it.

The Queer media we love doesn’t always have to be about Queer issues. After all, the Mother of Wicked in The Wizard of Oz is a film with Queer Icon status, not least for its leading lady. As Queer folks, we find ourselves in many things. Sometimes, nostalgia for a musical that got us through those tough years. And reliving that with the strength of a fully formed adult means something.

Also, do I get my Queer card revoked if I confess I’ve only seen The Wizard of Oz once?

And all that said, Jonathan Bailey continuing the noble tradition of Fieyro in his cream pants being a gay awakening for many is enough to make it the Queer pick of the year.