VITAL TOPICS: SOCIAL WORK & FILM
by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
(Note: See our review of Wicked: Part One.)
Infuriated when Oliver Stone’s 1994 blockbuster film Natural Born Killers labeled our most vulnerable clients innate killers, I countered by coining the term “natural social workers.” Jon M. Chu is one of us, refusing to label or push clients into rigid categories—predicting change is impossible, hope a fantasy. Through his two-part Wicked extravaganza, Wicked: Part One, released a year ago, and the newly released Wicked: For Good, Chu addresses the complexities of character development—the impact on a child shunned, loathed, abandoned, her only purpose to care for and protect her younger sister, and the impact on another, raised to believe that only her wishes and desires mattered. Like Chu, social workers never accept setbacks as indication to abandon our efforts, quiet our passion, relinquish dreams and the power of hope. In keeping with other reviews, what follows will be a discussion of the film’s framing and Chu’s brilliantly creative intent. There will be no spoilers.
To recap: As Wicked: Part One progressed, two young students, each emotionally abused—Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), a relentlessly discarded Person of Color, in this case Green, and G(a)linda (Ariana Grande), white, grossly overindulged and overprotected—forge a loyal friendship, despite grave odds. This includes the love each holds for the dashing Prince Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey, People Magazine’s 2025 sexiest man alive). We watch as Elphaba grows beyond the pain of rejection and abandonment. Their relationship opens the door a crack toward Glinda’s awareness.
Part One ends with a cliff hanger. Glinda, enticed by a false promise of love and position, is unable to follow Elphaba’s essential lead—the necessity of leaving Emerald City for a separate, rustic Oz locale and use every conceivable power to free a cherished land and diversified inhabitants (including speaking, wise, inspirational animals and Munchkins) from a cruel, heartless takeover. This coup is painstakingly orchestrated by the evil Wizard (Jeff Goldblum, whose slapstick portrayal intended as comic relief was too Jeff-himself-centered for my taste) and the treacherous Madame Morrible (ever stunning, perfectly on point, Michelle Yeoh), who brand Elphaba the “Wicked Witch of the West” and Glinda “the Good,” a front for this vile duo’s dynasty of divisiveness and greed.
Of Glinda’s inability, Chu echoes what social workers know to be true “…courage doesn’t have an expiration date. So, if you don’t do it one time, the window’s still open....”
And what a window is offered in Wicked: For Good, with a $150-165 million budget ($300-320 million for both films) enabling the marriage of skilled performance and tech genius in all aspects of camera work, music, choreography, costuming, and writing. It is a brilliant, enticing, dimensional tapestry, with countless threads woven together from the historical and the more recent source, Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, which was the basis of the 2003 blockbuster musical.
While Part One is a vehicle for Elphaba’s character development, For Good is Grande/Glinda’s turf, with glaring emphasis on the continuum between the personal and the political. Youth and school days are long gone, replaced by fierce grown-up challenges. Glinda, at first undaunted (until she is no longer), flies here and there in a magical Bubble, with an electric pink exterior and “POPULR” vanity plate, propagating lies to a public yearning for the comfort of denial, seemingly oblivious to signs of growing brutality toward difference. Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz also emerges (along with Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion, and Tin Man, each a former functional Oz resident), her face unseen, used as script bridge. A glorious wedding scene (whose I will not reveal) becomes center stage, as are manicured fingernail designs that will inspire for years to come.
But this is clear. Like social workers, Jon M. Chu does not believe in the promise of fairy tale endings. His assessment about the future: “We don’t know.” His Wicked is metaphor for the determination to grow, despite all. For a democracy to not only endure but thrive, despite all. And, in the face of setback, to try, to work, to hope, and to dream. To never give up. In this steadfast commitment, natural social worker Jon M. Chu gifts us with breathtaking events, rich in surprise, and a captivating, heart-rending windup, begging endless discussion.
SaraKay Smullens (MSW, LCSW, BCD,CGP, CFLE) is a Philadelphia-based clinician, writer, and advocate devoted to promoting the contributions of social work to the public. Her best-selling book, Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work, Edition 2 (NASW Press, 2021), grew from her award winning article in The New Social Worker, “What I Wish I Had Known: Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work.” SaraKay's research centers on invisible patterns of emotional abuse that impede mature development; the arenas where burnout is found, its causation and differences from depression, and strategies to prevent it; and the importance of an “emotional sense of direction” to navigate the slippery slopes of life. This concentration led to identifying “societal burnout.” During the 19-year term of Philadelphia DA Lynne Abraham, carefully selected cases involving first offenders in domestic violence were referred to SaraKay for intensive psychotherapy, rather than jail. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.