Wicked (2007 Tour)

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

If you didn’t see Denver Center Attractions’ production of Wicked playing at the Buell Theatre the first time around, you may be out of luck. Just don’t give up. Cancellations do happen. Persistence can pay off. Keep calling.

Victoria Matlock as Elphaba and Christina DeCicco as Galinda in the touring production of Wicked. Photo by Joan Marcus

A lottery takes place two and a half hours prior to curtain time. People may give their names at the Buell Box Office to be placed in a lottery drum. Thirty minute later a limited number of names are drawn for lower orchestra seats at $25.00 each. It is definitely worth the effort for this blockbuster show. Limited view seats are also available through the Denver Center Tickets Services at (303) 893-4100 only.

Aside from the astonishing set, and the complicated technical aspects that make this show work, this particular cast brings the relative and amazing story to life on several levels.

The longer Wicked, with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and book by Winnie Holzman, rakes in millions at the box office on Broadway and national tours, the more relevant the question where does evil come from seems to come to light.

From discussions around international politics down to the minds of 13-year-old girls questioning their identity, feeling out of place, unloved, unpopular, and even unwanted, the question of cruelty and evil take precedence. Thirteen-year-old boys are not left out of this mired complex issue, or minority groups who have fielded many insidious experiences because they look different, sound different, or act different. How far can people be slammed against society, ridiculed, shunned, made fun of, end up as the brunt of cocky jokes whether it be in a neighborhood, a school, professions of all kinds, TV sitcoms where men are made to look like idiots, talk shows where high-priced so-called comediennes go for clever mocking lines at the expense of humanity on any level.

The astonishing cast of this production led by Victoria Matlock as Elphaba and Christina DeCicco as Glinda give their heart and souls to their characters as though they have never before been played.

After being exposed to Wicked, it is difficult to look at the Wizard of Oz’s Wicked Witch of the West through the same eyes. One can’t help but wonder if Frank Baum gave much thought to where the “whoness” of his cackling, green, mean, smug, powerful, ugly Wicked Witch of the West came from. In the original story, we know she was sparked by a mean, lonely, frightened old woman neighbor of Dorothy, Aunt Em, and Uncle Henry who shattered her power over a small black dog, but it still raises the question of where did she come from? What makes that happen to people?

Born green can certainly start the process. Paul Slade Smith and Lori Holmes as the Witch’s Father, Governor of Munchkinland, and Mother provide insight to their horror over having a green child. What else to do but reject her, be embarrassed by her, turning her into a caretaker for the invalid Nessarose wonderfully played by DeeDee Magno Hall. Of course, it is Elphaba’s fault Nessarose must live in a wheel chair. Who better to pin blame on than the “different one.”

DeCicco takes Glinda to the hilt of the smug, wealthy, beautiful, ever so popular, gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it without a brain in her head epitome of the dumb blond. DeCicco makes every other dumb blond character look like they’re candidates for medical school. Funny, adorable, quick, showing most of the candles in her candelabra have burned out, DeCicco’s timing is impeccable. The juxtaposition of DeCicco and Matlock cannot possibly be any better presented by two stunning actors with strong powerful voices that climb inside the music coming out swinging in any production anywhere, anytime for Wicked. DeCicco’s Glinda makes us laugh with glee while Matlock’s Elphaba breaks our heart.

In spite of her rejection for being green, and reduced to caretaker of Nessarose, Elphaba grows to become a compassionate caring person as witnessed by her connection with Doctor Dillamond, a token goat professor deliciously played by Tom Flynn. He remembers the time when all animals could talk, when they were treated with dignity and respect. The winds of change bring Doctor Dillamond to the song “Something Bad.” There is nothing worse than sensing injustice running rampant and feeling helpless over not being able to do anything about it. Matlock’s Elphaba shows a depth to her soul in concern for Dillamond’s predicament reaching far beyond her own existence.

Barbara Tirrell’s Madame Morrible shows strictness gleefully powerful in her headmistress role at the school, detached strutting her ruler in hand station in life, hiding her own secrets. How much she enjoys sending the green girl to room with the silly obnoxious blond bombshell. Sharing the song “The Wizard and I” with Elphaba takes the breath away.

In spite of the strong cast of artistic expertise, one character in particular stands out to the point it was difficult to keep the eyes off of him. A monkey, Chistery, sits on the sidelines waiting for instructions. Kyle Hill turns this explicit character into a vital aspect of the setting. He just doesn’t sit there waiting. The monkey’s entire being is involved with paying attention, listening, waiting, cocking his head, blinking, quietly moving every muscle in his body in anticipation and subtle reaction. Hill gives Chistery first class treatment for a minor role. I found him breathtaking.

P.J. Benjamin does a magnificent job of showing a varied complex personality to The Wonderful Wizard of Oz who isn’t quite as wonderful as he wants everyone to believe. Covered with greed of his own, threatened by that which he doesn’t understand, wielding power he doesn’t own, conniving, sneaky, Benjamin moves beyond his spectacular costume to engulf the character with delectable secrets and conscientious masterful destruction.

Bog, a simple not-so-quick-on-the-draw Munchkin falls head over heels for Glinda who pawns off his “botherment” onto Nessarose. Josh Lamon paints him with bright primary jolting colors that isn’t about to take a backseat to anyone.

I still have problems with the turning of characters into The Tin Man, The Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion. It appears as a cheap shot at a cheap joke turning the timeline slightly screwy. In the long run such a minor point, it hardly matters.

Directed by Joe Mantello, under the orchestration of William David Brohn, music director, Bryan Perri, dance arrangements by James Lynn-Abbott, costumes by Susan Hilferty, and lighting by Kenneth Posner, the magnificence of hand and glove coordination boggles the mind, stuns the senses, creating its own wonderment of a suburb magical extravaganza reaching deep into the heart and soul of humanity.

Raising the question of who is wicked and who is good over and over peels away layers of the superfluous begging for serious thoughtful attention.

Although songs and music have been criticized for being too pop, too sappy, the music and lyrics know how to dig into the heart not wanting to be forgotten, which after all is the point.

Wicked certainly raises the bar for musical productions, as well it should. Would that the run could be extended. Would that it could be announced it will return next year. Undoubtedly Wicked will go down in history as one of the moist important musicals ever written, ever produced simply because it reaches into the hearts and souls of the human race whether they live in the United States, Iraq, Iran, Israel, England, Russia, Africa, or small out of the way unknown islands. It is magical reality at it’s finest because its truth knows where its home is: in the heart.