Last night, I went to see Wicked on Broadway. It was okay.
This was a company-sponsored event. We had a few rows of seats, free hats, and deeply discounted tickets. (Actually, I think they were deeply discounted. My ticket was $28 for a pretty decent orchestra seat, but I bought it back in March, and I have no clue what the going price for a Wednesday night show in October actually is.) I knew several of the people who attended, at least enough to nod good morning to them in the hallway, but a handful — like my boss, who’s at a conference in Chicago this week — didn’t show up, and a few others were complete strangers. The two older ladies sitting next to me, for instance, who left shortly after the start of the second act, were, I think, from another office entirely.
As for the musical itself…well, it’s fun, if a little loud and unremarkable. It’s basically a revisionist history of The Wizard of Oz, painting the Wicked Witch of the West (Elphaba) as a misunderstood hero. It’s an intriguing idea, and treated with a lot of genuine humor. But, like Gregory Maguire’s original novel — which I read years before adapting it to Broadway was even suggested — I found a lot to like but too little to love. As a whole, I found it vaguely unsatisfying. (Maguire’s gone on to write two sequels — post-musical, it should be noted — and I haven’t had any inclination to read them.)
The musical absolutely belongs to the set design and its two leads, Elphaba and Glinda (“Gah-linda.”). Both actresses (whose names I’m afraid I don’t recall) do a terrific job with the material, but after awhile that thing the New York Times called “the ‘American Idol’ sensibility” — “larynxes stretch[ing] and vibrat[ing] with the pain of being an underdog and the joy of being really loud” — just gets old. I tuned out for a couple of numbers in the second act altogether, and I don’t think I understood much of anything the background players sang. With only one or two possible exceptions, there’s nothing I’d find myself humming afterward. (As a fan of Kristin Chenoweth’s work on Pushing Daises, I’m interested to check out the original cast album, on which she plays Glinda.)
Still, for that price, it was fun. I wish I’d bought a second ticket, since I think my mother would have enjoyed the show. And then I could have had dinner with her instead of wandering around Manhattan for three hours after work. I didn’t get home until after midnight, and I’m still pretty tired this morning, but overall I’m glad I went.