MACT

By Steven LaVigne

Films based on the work of L. Frank Baum have been made for over a century. The first Wizard of Oz film was made in 1910. The Patchwork Girl of Oz (1914) was a film before it became a novel, The first feature length version was released in 1925 starring Dorothy Dwan and Oliver Hardy (as the Woodman). It’s closer to the 1903 musical and bears little resemblance to the novel. Since then, the story and characters have served as the basis for such TV Series as Tin Man and Emerald City and films like Return to Oz and Oz the Great and Powerful. After all, The Wizard of Oz is the greatest American Fairy Tale.

Published in 1995, Gregory Maguire’s novel, Wicked, The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (and its sequels, soon to be followed by a prequel) has taken the world by storm. It creates a political history of Oz and Elphaba (a variation on L. Frank Baum), the title character, is a child with a strange past whose life changes while she’s a student at Shiz University and becomes a political activist. In 2003, the musical version opened on Broadway’s Gershwin Theater and has played over 8,000 performances to date. The first act follows the beginning section of the novel, but strays from it in Act 2. The screenplay for the film version strays even further, leaving out so many details. (Needless to say, I didn’t care for Wicked: Part 1, but it won’t keep me from seeing Part 2.)

Like many of the directors in this series, Sidney Lumet’s career  began in television. He made his first film, 12 Angry Men, in 1957 and among his early works are The Pawnbroker, Long Day’s Journey into Night, A View from the Bridge and Fail-Safe. He later directed such diverse films Serpico, Murder on the Orient Express, Equus, Network, The Verdict, Deathtrap and The Wiz.

The Wiz? How could this man, whose films generally take a hard look at New Yorkers, wind up directing  this musical? John Badham, (Saturday Night Fever, Whose Life is It Anyway? WarGames) was the original choice, but when Diana Ross was cast as Dorothy, he stepped away, correctly believing that she wasn’t right for the role. More on this later.

Joel Schumacher, (who’d later adapt and direct The Phantom of the Opera for the screen) moved the story from Kansas and the Land of Oz to a fantasy New York City, with Queens, Coney Island, Flushing Meadows, Yankee Stadium and the World Trade Center among the major locations. In spite of praise from critics for her work in Lady Sings the Blues, Motown CEO Barry Gordy told Diana Ross that, at 33, she was wrong for Dorothy.

Defying Gordy, she charmed producer Rob Cohen into casting her, guaranteeing the participation of Michael Jackson as the Scarecrow in the process. Nipsey Russell was given the role of the Tin Man.  Ted Ross as the Cowardly Lion and Mabel King as Evillene recreated their stage performances. Lena Horne (Lumet’s mother-in-law) was cast as Glinda and Richard Pryor played the Wiz.

The movie opens at the Harlem apartment of Emily and Henry Gale whose family gathers to celebrate both Thanksgiving and to welcome a grandchild. Dorothy’s now a 24-year-old Kindergarten teacher who talks with her aunt and we learn she’s never been south of 125^th Street. (At the time the movie was release, when I questioned where she got her degree, it had to be explained that CCNY is north of Harlem). When the kitchen door is opened, Toto (who seems to come and goes throughout the film at his own whim and seems undisciplined) runs out into a blizzard.

Dorothy chases after him, but Glinda holds a snow funnel in her hand that sends Dorothy crashing through an Oz sign that falls on and kills Evermean, the Oz Park Commissioner and the Wicked Witch of the East. She’s turned all the Munchkins into graffiti. Slowly, they come off the walls as the Good Witch of the North, Miss One, a numbers runner arrives. Evermean’s silver slippers wind up on Dorothy’s feet, but Miss One informs her that if she wants to return home, she must follow the yellow brick road to ask advice of The Wiz. It’s not under her feet, though. Dorothy has to look for it!

In the rubble of a destroyed housing project Dorothy discovers a sunflower patch where a quartet of crows have manipulated the Scarecrow (who’s full of shredded paper) as he hangs on an old TV antenna. Toto scares the crows away and pieces of the road lead them to the Brooklyn Bridge (covered in $35 million worth of Armstrong yellow vinyl cobblestone).

They encounter a metal robot at Coney Island and in front of the New York Public Library, the lion known as Patience escapes from his concrete shell to strut his stuff because he’s a “Mean Ol’ Lion” – until Toto bites his foot. (In this scene the Emerald City is mentioned for the first time). Along the way, they encounter assorted subway monsters, from Asian puppets, to trash cans with teeth and tiled pillars that come loose and attack them. On 42^nd Street they encounter the “Poppy Girls” who trap Dorothy and the Lion in their perfume factory, only to be saved by the Tin Man’s tears.

The plaza of the World Trade Center represents the Emerald City, where the populace promenades in a continual fashion parade, changing colors at the whim of the Wiz. (The Horse of a Different Color sequence).

Up to this point, there have been some fairly creative moments, but the movie runs out of energy and turns conventional here. For example, the Wiz appears as a fire-breathing head instead of something more creative. He agrees to grant their wishes after they kill the Wicked Witch of the West.

Her police force of Winged Monkeys drive motorcycles and chase Dorothy and her companions all over Yankee Stadium before bringing them to Evelline’s sweatshop, just as the poppy girls and the crows arrive after arrest. Workers throw around bolts of fabric as the Witch demands “don’t nobody bring me no bad news” while she tortures the Scarecrow by having him sawn in half and the Tin Man pressed flat while the Lion hangs by his tail. When the Scarecrow points out the fire sprinklers to Dorothy, she sets off an alarm, causing Evelline, who’s allergic to water, to melt and literally be flushed down the toilet that she uses as a throne. Her workers then remove the work leather uniforms they’ve trapped in, and, wearing yellow bikini wear, celebrate “a brand new day.”

The Winged Monkeys return Dorothy and her friends to the Emerald City, dropping them off at the back entrance. When they discover that the Wiz is actually a failed politician who blew in from Atlantic City, Dorothy, not the Wiz, informs the Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion of their natural gifts. Glinda arrives in shimmering blue (surrounded by little baby stars) and encourages Dorothy to think for herself because that’ll take her home. When she’s in front of her Harlem building, the storm’s over and Dorothy runs inside with Toto in her arms.

Of course, like Wicked, it’s presumed that you know the story. Lumet’s goal was to achieve a new and different experiences, but The Wiz was the latest adaptation of this material. Stage Director-choreographer Geoffrey Holder created an exhilarating production from Charles Small’s libretto and score, and it was the Tony Award-winning hit of 1975.

The Wiz is a high energy vehicle and there are moments when the guidance of choreographer Louis Johnson confirms this. In the first production number, “He’s the Wizard,” the Munchkins ride skateboards, throw frisbees and swing hula hoops. After the sweatshop workers are freed, the trained dancers perform some lovely ballet although it’s out of place with the rest of the choreography. Throughout the film, the movement of the two Rosses, Russell and Jackson is little more than modified skipping, which grows tiresome after a while because this is a long movie. (It runs 133 minutes).

There are little things to enjoy. Designer Tony Walton’s set design, at least in part, found in the art of Faith Ringold. When the sun comes up on the Emerald City, it’s a big apple balloon and the entrance to see The Wiz resembles a huge bank vault door. On the plaza, actors are costumed as a microphone and several cameras with feet. Quincy Jones did outstanding arrangements of the score as well. (He has a cameo in the Emerald City sequence).

Ever the consummate performer, Michael Jackson finds the joy of playing the Scarecrow and he gives the best performance in this cast. Nipsey Russell brings a Vaudeville style to his clever rendition of “Slide Some Oil to Me.” Lena Horne takes over at the climax, delivering “Believe” with that beautiful soulful voice, and sends shivers up our spines. (James Earl Jones and Lena Horne were recently honored as the only African-Americans to have a Broadway Theater named for them. The former Brook Atkinson is now the Lena Horne, while the Cort is now the James Earl Jones).

Sidney Lumet handles the material in his usual, no-nonsense manner but it’s disconnected from the necessities of a fairy tale.

I’d hoped to look at the movie from a fresh viewpoint, which leads me to what’s wrong with The Wiz. For one thing, the production numbers are generally filmed in wide shots with little focus on specific performers.

The big trouble, of course, is that Diana Ross is blatantly miscast as Dorothy. She delivers her lines and songs timidly which shows how nervous and uncomfortable she is. Her eyes never  focus on the person speaking to her and she scowls her way through it. While everyone else in the cast at least pretends to be enjoying themselves, she never does.

Mabel King screams her way through her performance as Evillene, and a faster pace would improve this considerably, because so much of it is too slow.  The movie could use more inventive plot development as well.

The official budget for the film was $25 million (the cobblestone linoleum added a few millions that weren’t reported), but the movie was a failure. At Christmas 2015, a much more faithful TV version produced by NBC was broadcast. Shanice Williams played Dorothy, David Alan Grier was the Lion, Mary J. Blige was Evillene, Stephanie Mills (Dorothy in the original Broadway production) was Auntie Em and Queen Latifah was the Wiz. It was so successful, it had to be broadcast again and is available on DVD!

Nothing can ever top the 1939 film, but at least people tried, and hopefully will keep trying. The original plan for Wicked, before it became a worldwide sensation, was to do a miniseries. I’d prefer that to the current film version or the 1978 production of The Wiz!