When I sat down to watch Jon Chu’s film adaptation of Stephen Schwartz’s smash-hit musical Wicked, I expected to be captivated—and I was. Having seen the musical and read the Gregory Maguire novel on which it is (loosely) based, I knew the premise: a prequel to the Wizard of Oz which gives the backstory of the “good” and “wicked” witches, tracing their initial friendship and diverging paths as they face an unjust political system and a tyrannical ruler. Cynthia Erivo’s and Ariana Grande’s performances completely rejuvenated the film, bringing it alive for a new generation.
Themes in Wicked include complex friendships, society’s tendency to scapegoat minorities, and the struggle to rediscover lost idealism—and these, along with its unforgettable music and staging, have led to its enduring global popularity. It is one of the most lucrative Broadway shows worldwide, and at the end of 2024 it was the highest grossing musical film of all time. But as I watched the credits roll, I was left wondering why, of all the issues explored in the film, one has not gained more attention: animal welfare and rights.
In the magical Oz of Wicked, animals talk and live among humans. Indeed, future Wicked Witch Elphaba is mostly raised by a compassionate bear when her father, horrified by her green skin, rejects her at birth. This might be why, after enrolling as a student at Shiz University, she develops a particular fondness for her history professor, the goat Dr. Dillamond. The last animal teaching at this prestigious institution, he is ultimately fired from his job, roughly escorted out of the classroom, and replaced by a new professor who introduces the concept of keeping animals in cages, a practice previously not seen in Oz. This cruelty horrifies Elphaba, who, as a marginalized human mostly raised by animals, identifies with them and cares for them.
Concern for animal rights is arguably a central message of Wicked. And yet, perhaps because persecution of animals is used as a metaphor for persecution of marginalized human beings, it’s easy to miss the ways that the portrayal of animal rights in Oz might be relevant to our own world. As the global demand for meat rises and factory farming practices become more widespread—and as we struggle with ongoing human problems like war and political strife—the animal rights movement has not gained much mainstream attention. When our society struggles to show even a modicum of care for human beings, it can seem impossible to extend our care to plants and animals for their own sake.
However, Pope Francis has argued that the human dignity we affirm as Catholics is inextricably bound with the dignity of nonhuman animals and indeed all living things. In Laudato Si (On Care for our Common Home), he states that if we are cruel or indifferent to any living creatures, we inevitably end up showing similar cruelty or indifference to one another.
“Every act of cruelty towards any creature is ‘contrary to human dignity,’” he states in section 92 of the encyclical. “Everything is related, and we human beings are united as brothers and sisters on a wonderful pilgrimage, woven together by the love God has for each of his creatures and which also unites us in fond affection with brother sun, sister moon, brother river, and mother earth.” While the Catholic faith views human beings as uniquely made in the image and likeness of God, Francis assures us that the “dominion” we were given over creation in the Book of Genesis was not meant to mean destruction, but stewardship and care.
Concurring with Francis, various theologians and commentators have argued that it is time we consider the personhood of nonhuman animals. “For so much of our modern human history, we have presumed our absolute uniqueness as a species,” states Daniel P. Horan in National Catholic Reporter. “It doesn’t take much effort to see how such a rigid anthropocentrism…has contributed to our abominable treatment of nonhuman animals over the years—from hunting to extinction and factory farming, to scientific experimentation, to circuses and zoos.”
In Wicked, Elphaba essentially crosses a threshold of no return when she realizes the extent of animal persecution taking place in Oz. Her realization leads her on a journey that ultimately alienates her from trusted mentors, admired idols, and long-held dreams, setting her on a truly countercultural path. Cynthia Erivo—who is both a Catholic and a vegan—embodies both Elphaba’s disillusionment with the system and renewed sense of purpose in her rendition of the iconic “Defying Gravity,” which is a lament as much as a battle cry, a personal reckoning with the realization that people are flawed and true goodness is tremendously hard to find.
Not unlike Elphaba, I also crossed a threshold when I first became aware of the cruelty built into the factory farming system on which our current society depends. After doing some more research, I decided to embrace the vegetarian diet I’ve now maintained for 23 years, eventually finding myself in good company with some other Catholics. While I realize that vegetarian diets are not feasible for everyone, I wish that Wicked would inspire more of its fans to consider animal rights and welfare in their personal lives as well as at the societal level. Truthfully, large numbers of people moderately reducing their meat consumption would have a much greater systemic impact than a small minority of us going vegetarian or vegan.
Wicked is a phenomenal film adaptation of a phenomenal musical, one that I would recommend everyone take the time to see. For a Catholic, there are many moral themes to ponder: the prevalence of sin, the presence of grace, and the painful but necessary process of discerning one’s vocation, especially in the face of a broken world. The two friends make different decisions in the face of cruelty and injustice, both believing that theirs is the best path toward good—a contradiction that is explored in the play’s second act and surely will figure heavily in the film’s second part, which will be released later this year. But as Elphaba takes her bow and flies off toward the western sky, we are left with a message of hope and an affirmation of dignity—for humans, yes, but also for our animal brothers and sisters.
Image: Universal Pictures
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