Wicked: A Love Letter to Theater Kids

Green shirt, pink pants, and a witch’s hat perched proudly on my head—that’s how I walked into Screen 16 at Novo Cinema, already humming "The Wizard and I" under my breath. For a theater kid, this wasn’t just a casual movie night; it was a full-circle moment, a pilgrimage to a world that had shaped so many of us. "Wicked" isn’t just a story about witches, it’s a story about outcasts, dreamers, and anyone who’s ever felt like they had to hide their light to fit in. It’s a story about theater kids. As the lights dimmed and Elphaba’s hat appeared on the screen, I wasn’t just stepping into Oz, I was stepping into a part of myself I’d loved since the first time I stepped into a theater.

For those of us who grew up backstage with green face paint on our hands and glitter in our veins, "Wicked" isn’t just a musical, it’s a mirror. Reflecting back the dreams, struggles, and triumphs that made us fall in love with storytelling in the first place. It’s the kind of story that makes you believe in the power of being unapologetically yourself, even when the world tells you to play by its rules. Watching "Wicked" on the big screen wasn’t just about seeing Elphaba defy gravity—it was about seeing the heart of every theater kid who’s ever dared to dream a little bigger, love a little harder, and sing a little louder.

The movie doesn’t just reimagine Oz; it reawakens that electric, transformative feeling of the stage. The sweeping visuals, the intricate details of Shiz and the Emerald City, and the raw emotion brought to life by the cast were more than just cinematic magic—they were a testament to why this story endures. It reminded me of long nights spent in dark theaters, painting backdrops or perfecting cues, knowing that even the smallest role could make a difference in creating something extraordinary.

If there is one thing that defines theater kids, it’s our passion. And if there is one thing that was clear, it is that a lot of passion went into this movie. From the breathtaking set designs that brought the world of Oz to life to the intricate costumes that paid homage to the stage while creating something entirely new, "Wicked" was a labor of love. Every frame felt like a love letter—not just to the fans who’ve cherished this story for years but to the art of theater itself.

The performances were nothing short of magical. The actors captured the essence of their characters while adding layers that could only be achieved on film. Elphaba’s vulnerability felt raw and tangible, and Glinda’s charm sparkled with an emotional depth that made her more than just a “good witch.”

And the music. Oh, the music. Hearing those iconic songs with Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande’s twist was breathtaking. Each note was charged with emotion, each lyric felt like it was reaching out to remind me why I fell in love with this story in the first place. It wasn’t just about the melodies—it was about the way the music seemed to echo everything I’d ever felt as a theater kid: the yearning, the defiance, the hope.

Watching this movie was like stepping into that space between rehearsal and performance, where the magic of storytelling transforms into something bigger than yourself. It’s a space where dreams come to life, where every note and every line feels like it’s meant just for you. And for two glorious hours, "Wicked" reminded me why theater—and stories like this—make us feel alive.

To everyone who poured love, passion, care, and magic into this show, thank you. From Jon M. Chu’s visionary direction to the dedicated crew who meticulously crafted every detail of Oz, your collective work was nothing short of extraordinary. You gave theater kids everywhere a gift: a reminder that the magic of the stage can live on, in any form, as long as there’s heart behind it.

"Wicked" wasn’t just another blockbuster; it was a celebration of storytelling, a reminder of why so many of us fell in love with theater in the first place. For every theater kid in the audience, "Wicked" isn’t just a show—it’s a love letter to the dreamers who never stopped believing they were meant for something extraordinary. Watching it unfold on the big screen felt like coming home, a reflection of the magic, hope, resilience, and courage that shape us all. In that theater, for a brief, glorious moment, we were all part of something extraordinary.