Dinner and a Show; Only the Other Way Around

Last Thursday we had the great and grand privilege of attending a performance of the Broadway hit, "Wicked".
It was playing at the Oriental Theatre, which was just as ornate, grand and encrusted with all manner of architectural goo-gawery as the name would suggest.

The Spouse and I read Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire a few years ago. Upon hearing it was going to be made into a musical our mutual response was, "HUH?" Nothing about the book suggests singing and dancing. The book is dark and a little sordid, heavy on characterization and fairly light on actual story. This is going to work as a musical?

No. It couldn't possibly. Which is why Winnie Holzman, who wrote the book for the musical played very fast and loose with Maguire's text. How fast and loose? The characters have the same names and maybe 3 or 4 things that happen in the book happen in the play and that's about it. The result is 2 hours and 15 minutes of something entirely reimagined but excellent in it's own right.

The show opens with Glinda asking the musical question: are people born wicked or do some have wickedness thrust upon them?

The musical answer isn't very complicated. Elphaba, with her green skin, has been on the outside all her life; unloved by her father, nursemaid to her sister, racked by guilt about things for which she's not even responsible. But she is smart. She has conviction, loyalty and a pretty centered moral compass. Her choices end up putting her on the wrong side of the status quo and that's when labels like "wicked" start getting bandied about. A victim of politics, she is made into the "other" that the Wizard of Oz necessarily needs in order to keep moving ahead with his agenda. (Dang. That is sounding so familiar, isn't it? You know, like when you call someone a traitor because they disagree with your war policy?)

Elphaba's foil is of course, Galinda...a bubbly, air-head blonde who knows all about what it is to be popular, but isn't half as clever as Elphaba. The play is more focused on the relationship of these two than I remember the book being, thus becoming a story about friendship and all that goes with it: loyalty, betrayal, reconciliation. Galinda might not be as smart as Elphaba, but she knows how to get what she wants and is willing to make whatever alliances she needs to get it.

When they call this a musical they aren't kidding. The show runs for 2 hours, 15 minutes and there are 21 songs. There is not a lot of talking or straight ahead acting in this production. It is just one song after another. Good songs, too. Composer and lyricist Stephen Swartz, he of "Pippin" and "Godspell", has a gift for the grand and soaring as well as the quiet and intimate (which usually ends up become grand and soaring anyway). And if there is a smidge of schmalz to his style, he's got the chops to keep it from running roughshod. There are some imminently singable tunes in this show and a few that will give you chills. (End of the first act? Hello!)

The show is also abundant in pure, good old fashioned stagecraft. The sets are terrific, with fabulous details but a measured simplicity the evoke rather than describe the scenes. There are unbelievably quick costume changes. And snaps to whoever did Elphaba's makeup because I don't know what product there is that can withstand the heat of the lights, plus all the hugging, running, dancing, and generally sweat-inducing activity of being on stage for almost the entire production.

Theater is still fairly pure, virtually untouched by CGI and blue screens and all the rest of it. If someone rises up in the air, you gotta figure out how to hoist 'em. If they melt through a floor, well, someone is going down through a trap door. If there are smoke and mirrors, they are real smoke and mirrors and no clever chappie with his computer and animation program are involved. There is a magic to the theater that film, however much we love it, can never lay claim to.

The show has some serious, dramatic moments, to be sure. And "a message". It is also pretty funny. There's just a lot of inherent comedy in a serious, green witch being college roomies with a pretty, blonde, sorority type. Not to mention the usually quite amusing throw-away references to the movie.

The Child was just beside herself, she loved the show so much. (And here's another difference between the two mediums: the show is absolutely child-friendly. The book not so much. It'll be at least another couple years before I'll let her read it).

I, however, expect to re-read the book soon. I don't, for example, remember the politics being that profound in the book. Or maybe it's just that when I read the book we still had habeaus corpus and domestic surveillance was just an Orwellian fiction. Let's just say it was hard not to compare the Wizard and his agenda to the current administration. And that was creepy.

To sum up: terrific show. Loved. It. Quintessential musical theater experience. I frankly went to the show with a large grain of salt. Too many raves always make me nervous. In this case, the product lives up to the hype. No sooner was it finished than The Child asked, "If this comes to Seattle can we...."

"Yes!" I replied. It really is that good.

Apres theater we went to Smith and Wollensky, a classic steakhouse right off the Dearborn St. bridge, next to our apartment. Because The Spouse really wanted to have a Chicago steak. I, still being full to the ears from all the week's eating, settled for a bowl of soup. Which was only the most gorgeous bowl of black bean soup I've ever had and let me tell you, I have had some mighty fine black bean soup in my day. The Child opted for a Caesar salad, which was bigger than her head but she ate almost all of it. And we were very happy with our simple fare, even as The Spouse dug into a beautiful looking slab of porterhouse. He wanted to bring the bone home as a souvenir for The Dog. I don't think I was wrong to suggest that he not. Oddly, there was just enough room for a delicious bit of Key lime pie, which was a triumph of balance between the shut-off-your-airways tartness inherent in Key limes and just enough sugar to tame but not cloy.



Just another night on the town in Chicago.