Wicked

The film has all the right ingredients—impressive vocal talent, striking choreography, and genuine heart. Yet, it stumbles under the weight of a massive challenge: adapting only half of a story into a single film, a misstep that, to me, seemed to have been left behind in the 2010s with the glut of YA action-adventure blockbusters. This is too long—often, I had a true restlessness sitting through drawn-out scenes that just will not end, having no reason to be there other than an overconfidence in the material. Ultimately, it all amounts to a self-indulgent parade of hits, which is a shame because when the film does stick its landing, it is a lot of fun.

Had the runtime been trimmed, the emotional crescendos in the climax might have landed with the weight they deserve. As it stands, however, the film feels like little more than a product riding the coattails of nostalgia, coasting by on the goodwill of what’s come before, rather than what it truly brings to the table.