Opinion

The new movie 'Wicked' is a parable of our politics of scapegoating

(RNS) — The Wicked Witch of the West is scapegoated by a wizard, who is powerless but knows that hate is a powerful political tool.

Actor Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba in "Wicked." (© Universal Pictures)

Michael Woolf
November 25, 2024

(RNS) — “The best way to bring folks together is to give them a real good enemy,” explains the Wizard of Oz, played by Jeff Goldblum, in “Wicked,” the new movie version of Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel that is also the basis of the long-running Broadway musical. But what makes “Wicked” fascinating for our times is that it is less a movie about enemies than an extended reflection on the power of scapegoating.

The movie, like the book and the stage production, tells the backstory of the “Wizard of Oz,” the classic Frank Baum novel better known as the 1939 movie musical starring Judy Garland, from the perspective of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, played in the new movie by Cynthia Erivo. Much of the story takes place at Shiz University, where she is ostracized for her green skin and magical powers.

From early in her childhood in Munchkinland, Elphaba feels ostracized from both her father and bullying peers. When a group of children make up a rude rhyme for her green skin, she uses her powers to scare them away, which causes her sister, who uses a wheelchair, to begin crying and earns her a rebuke from her father.

She has some allies — her caretaker, a talking bear, tells Elphaba her father “shouldn’t have blamed you” — and Elphaba becomes friends with Galinda (Ariana Grande-Butera), who becomes Glinda the Good. But Elphaba’s father, a devout minister who is among the most powerful figures in Munchkinland, hates Elphaba’s green skin because it is the result of his wife’s infidelity, which also caused her sister’s condition. In Maguire’s novel, his monstrous behavior toward Elphaba is born of a religious impulse to punish sin.

“Wicked” promo poster with Ariana Grande-Butera as Glinda, left, and Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba. (© Universal Pictures)

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We are living in an era of the politics of scapegoating. A quality President-elect Donald Trump displays, among his other remarkable qualities, is an inability to obfuscate: He speaks his mind. In his first term and in the latest presidential campaign, he has demonized immigrants, saying they are “poisoning the blood of our country.” He has likewise made trans people a target of his rhetoric and has a history of trying to discourage Muslims from entering the country.

None of these groups is ruining America. By one measure trans people make up less than 1% of the population, while Trump’s proposed mass deportations, some experts say, will have a stunningly negative economic impact, precisely because Americans are so dependent on immigrant labor. But the purpose of Trump’s policies and rhetoric is not to solve problems; it is to create unity among his supporters.

This is what was going through my head as I watched “Wicked,” which is a remarkable parable of how scapegoating works. Elphaba has few friends. Her father does not love her, she is an outcast, and she is visibly different from other residents of Oz. She is used to create a similar unity, because the Wizard, who, for all his bluster, is powerless, knows that hate is a powerful political tool.

As a Christian minister, I am also sensitive that religious communities have long been part of a problem with shame in this country, especially with regard to queer communities. Recent reports have shown an upsurge in calls to crisis centers from queer people, and a 2023 report showed that 41% of queer youth have contemplated suicide in the past year.

Because religion can create these disproportionately negative mental health outcomes for queer people, it can also play a powerful role in creating wellness. This is particularly important in the current climate, where some Democrats have read the recent election results as a call to abandon the queer community.

The fact that the queer community is being scapegoated ought to be cause for religious concern. After all, the foundational story of our faith details a man, who through no fault of his own, was scapegoated by Rome and sentenced to death. Indeed, Rene Girard, the French philosopher and historian, has penned one of my favorite theories of atonement. He posits that Jesus, in becoming the “ultimate scapegoat … exposes all the myths of scapegoating and shows that the victims were innocent and the communities guilty.”

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If Girard is right, then Christians have all the tools they need to expose scapegoating for the callow political ploy that it is. The only question is, will they use it? “Wicked” offers one insight that I can’t describe too specifically without spoilers. But suffice to say, at a devastating moment, no one stands up for the vulnerable. Instead, though troubled, they let a travesty of justice happen right in front of their eyes.

It’s almost as if witnessing scapegoating can inure onlookers to its effects. I pray that is not the case.

(The Rev. Michael Woolf is senior minister of Lake Street Church of Evanston, Illinois, the author of “Sanctuary and Subjectivity: Thinking Theologically About Whiteness and Sanctuary Movements,” and co-founder, with his spouse, the Rev. Anna Piela, of Challenging Islamophobia Together Chicagoland. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)