The Shadows Behind the Emerald City: 'Wicked' and the Unspoken Narratives of Power
In the dimly lit corners of our collective consciousness, where fairy tales and political allegories intertwine like vines around abandoned castles, we find ourselves returning to stories that challenge our understanding of good and evil. The musical "Wicked," much like Goya's "Saturn Devouring His Son," reveals something profound about power structures and the narratives we construct around them—how easily the oppressed can become oppressors, how revolution can calcify into new hierarchies. As the emerald glow of "Wicked" once again captures public imagination with its current Broadway production and upcoming film adaptation, we might pause to consider what shadows lurk behind its progressive veneer, particularly through the often-overlooked character of Nessarose, the Wicked Witch of the East.
Beyond the Emerald Curtain: The Complexity of "Wicked"
While recent coverage of "Wicked" has largely celebrated its progressive themes and representation, particularly through actress Marissa Bode who portrays Nessarose on Broadway, a deeper examination reveals a more complex narrative landscape. The musical, based on Gregory Maguire's novel, has been widely embraced as a feminist reimagining of L. Frank Baum's "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," challenging audiences to reconsider who writes history and how villains are created. Yet within this celebrated narrative lies a more nuanced—perhaps even contradictory—exploration of power through Nessarose's character arc. Like Caravaggio's chiaroscuro technique, "Wicked" illuminates certain progressive elements while leaving others in shadow, creating a tension that deserves closer examination.
The recent "Wicked: For Good" New York red carpet premiere highlighted the musical's continued cultural relevance and star power. However, beneath the celebration lies a more complex narrative about disability, power, and the ways marginalized identities navigate oppressive systems. Marissa Bode's casting as Nessarose represents a significant step forward for disability representation in Broadway, yet the character she portrays follows a troubling narrative arc that transforms from victim to oppressor—a complexity that often goes unaddressed in discussions about the musical's progressive credentials.
Nessarose: The Forgotten Witch
In the shadow of her more famous sister Elphaba, Nessarose embodies a narrative thread that complicates "Wicked's" otherwise straightforward critique of prejudice and oppression. Born with a disability that confines her to a wheelchair, Nessarose eventually becomes the Wicked Witch of the East—the tyrannical ruler of Munchkinland whose death by Dorothy's house initiates the events of "The Wizard of Oz." This transformation from marginalized figure to oppressor creates a disquieting parallel to historical patterns where revolutions against injustice sometimes birth new forms of authoritarianism. Like Géricault's "The Raft of the Medusa," Nessarose's story depicts the desperate measures taken by the vulnerable when given a taste of power, raising uncomfortable questions about how oppression perpetuates itself through those who have experienced it firsthand.
The character's complexity is further enhanced by Bode's portrayal, which brings authenticity to the role. As a performer with a disability herself, Bode has been vocal about accessibility and inclusion in the arts. "Being in 'Wicked' has changed me for the better," Bode has stated, according to recent red carpet interviews. Her advocacy work parallels the initial sympathetic portrayal of Nessarose, yet the character's eventual descent into tyranny creates a cognitive dissonance that the musical never fully resolves. This tension between the actress's empowering presence and the character's problematic arc exemplifies the musical's unresolved relationship with power dynamics.
The Dialectic of Oppression
What makes "Wicked" particularly fascinating is how it simultaneously subverts and reinforces traditional power narratives. The musical's primary focus on Elphaba's journey from outcast to revolutionary has been widely celebrated for its feminist and anti-prejudice messaging. Yet through Nessarose, the musical inadvertently reinforces troubling stereotypes about disability and power. Her transformation from sympathetic figure to tyrant echoes centuries-old literary traditions linking physical disability with moral corruption—from Shakespeare's Richard III to modern cinema villains. This contradiction exists within the very fabric of a musical celebrated for its progressive politics, much like how Picasso's "Guernica" contains both a condemnation of violence and an uncomfortable fascination with its aesthetic possibilities.
According to theater critics who have analyzed the musical's themes, Nessarose's character arc serves as a cautionary tale about how power corrupts, regardless of one's marginalized status. However, this reading becomes problematic when considering that Elphaba—green-skinned but able-bodied—is ultimately redeemed, while her disabled sister remains irredeemable. This disparity suggests a hierarchy of marginalization within the narrative itself, where certain forms of difference are more palatable for redemption than others. The musical thus creates its own system of privilege even as it critiques such systems—a contradiction that mirrors our own society's complex relationship with inclusion and representation.
Architectural Echoes: Structures of Exclusion
The physical spaces within "Wicked" further illuminate its complex relationship with power and accessibility. Shiz University, with its imposing architecture and exclusionary practices, mirrors real-world institutions that have historically barred marginalized groups. Nessarose's navigation of these spaces as a wheelchair user highlights the architectural manifestations of societal prejudice—a theme that resonates with contemporary discussions about accessibility. As Bode advocates for greater accessibility in the arts, her portrayal of Nessarose creates a meta-commentary on the very real barriers faced by disabled performers and audience members in theater spaces designed without consideration for diverse bodies and needs.
This architectural metaphor extends beyond the stage to real-world parallels. The Missouri History Museum's newest exhibit featuring Saint Louis University's involvement in gentrification, as reported in recent coverage, provides a striking parallel to the themes of institutional power and displacement in "Wicked." Both narratives explore how spaces are designed to include certain bodies while excluding others—whether through physical barriers or economic forces. The musical's exploration of these themes through Nessarose's character offers a lens through which to view contemporary discussions about accessibility and inclusion, though the musical itself never fully commits to this analysis.
Cultural Resonance and Contemporary Context
The continued popularity of "Wicked," evidenced by Spotify's creation of an exclusive "Wicked" experience for listeners as reported in recent coverage, speaks to its cultural resonance. Yet this popularity raises questions about what aspects of the narrative audiences are embracing and which they might be overlooking. The musical's most celebrated elements—its empowering message for young women, its critique of propaganda and authoritarianism, its celebration of difference through Elphaba—coexist with more troubling elements that often go unexamined in popular discourse. Like Vermeer's seemingly simple domestic scenes that reveal complex social hierarchies upon closer inspection, "Wicked" contains multitudes that deserve unpacking.
Marissa Bode's role as Nessarose in the current Broadway production adds another layer to this cultural conversation. As a performer with a disability playing a character with a disability, Bode represents an important step forward for authentic representation. "I've found greater confidence and pride in myself through this role," Bode has shared in interviews surrounding the recent red carpet premiere. Her personal journey illustrates how the arts can positively impact an individual's self-perception and sense of belonging. Yet this positive real-world impact exists alongside the more problematic aspects of Nessarose's character arc—creating a tension between the musical's casting practices and its narrative choices.
Beyond Good and Wicked
Perhaps what makes "Wicked" truly enduring is not its progressive politics but its unresolved contradictions—the ways it simultaneously challenges and reinforces existing power structures, much like our own society. The musical asks us to look beyond simple binaries of good and evil, yet in doing so creates new hierarchies that go largely unexamined. This complexity, embodied most profoundly in the character of Nessarose, offers audiences an opportunity for deeper engagement with questions of power, privilege, and the narratives we construct around difference. Like Rembrandt's self-portraits that grew increasingly complex and self-critical with age, perhaps "Wicked" too deserves a more nuanced reading as it matures in our cultural consciousness.
As we continue to celebrate "Wicked" for its more obvious progressive elements, we might also consider what remains unspoken in its narrative—the shadows behind the Emerald City, the complexity of Nessarose's journey, and the uncomfortable questions it raises about who deserves redemption and why. In doing so, we honor not just the musical's achievements but also its potential to spark more nuanced conversations about power and difference in our society. For in the end, the most enduring art is not that which offers simple answers, but that which compels us to ask more difficult questions of ourselves and the stories we tell.