WICKED: A DISGRACE.

Grimmace's Gavel: "Wicked: For Good" – A Saccharine Stain on a Perfectly Good Story

Let’s be clear: the original “Wicked” movie was a passable, if bland, adaptation. It understood the basic premise of the book – green girl, blonde girl, societal prejudice, flying monkeys – and delivered a product that didn’t actively offend. This… thing? This is an insult.

Fandango, naturally, is attempting to shovel this down our throats with a “buy a ticket, get the original” offer. A bribe, plain and simple. They know what they’ve done. They’re trying to soften the blow. It won’t work.

The cinematography is aggressively… pink. Apparently, subtlety is dead. Every single set looks like a cotton candy explosion. The performances are equally egregious. The actresses playing Elphaba and Glinda seem to be locked in a competition to see who can project the most forced whimsy. It's exhausting. Elphaba, robbed of any real grit, is a mewling, perpetually-confused victim. Glinda is less a complex character and more a walking, talking, perfectly-coiffed stereotype.

And the music? Don’t even start me on the music. They’ve “reimagined” classic songs, stripping them of everything that made them memorable. The soaring melodies have been replaced with a vapid, auto-tuned mess. It feels like they took a perfectly good score and ran it through a glitter cannon.

The attempts at “political commentary” are particularly nauseating. It’s all surface-level virtue signaling, devoid of any genuine insight. They think tacking on a few lines about inclusivity magically absolves them of creating a two-and-a-half-hour sugar rush with the emotional depth of a puddle.

Fandango’s offering the original movie as a consolation prize isn’t generosity; it’s an admission of guilt. It’s saying, “We messed up. Here, remember when things were… less awful?”

Avoid this at all costs. Spend your money on literally anything else. Stare at a wall. Re-read the book. Donate to a charity. Just, for the love of all that is holy, do not subject yourself to this cinematic atrocity.

Rating: One out of five gavels. And that one is only for the stagehands who had to clean up the pink glitter.