“Are people born evil?” Glinda, the Good Witch of Oz, asks. “Or has evil intruded?”

Two decades since Glinda the Good Witch first pondered that question from the stage at the Gershwin Theater and launched a Broadway sensation, “Wicked” has landed in theaters. Or, to be precise, “Wicked: Part 1.” The film adaptation, directed by Jon M. Chu (“Crazy Rich Asians,” “In the Heights”) with a screenplay by Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox, covers only the first act of the stage musical, written by Stephen Schwartz and Holzman; “Part 2” premieres next November.

Chu’s film comes in a whirlwind of eager (and anxious) anticipation among fans. It is also accompanied by a green-and-pink advertising blitz that has drawn comparisons to last year’s “Barbie”. “Wicked” will, I expect, hit the box office like a tornado. Those looking for a dazzling musical spectacle will not be disappointed, but the film has more to think about. “Wicked,” in every incarnation, is a story that challenges our narratives of good and evil.

The musical was adapted from Catholic author Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel, a revisionist twist on “The Wizard of Oz” (originally written by L. Frank Baum). Maguire sought to explore how, and why, one becomes a villain by reimagining one of the most iconic examples in fiction: the Wicked Witch of the West.

When we meet her in the film, Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo) is not a witch, but a morally courageous girl who is ostracized for her bright green skin and erratic magical abilities. She attends Shiz University to take care of her sister, Nessarose (Marissa Bode), and meets Glinda (Ariana Grande), a dim-witted social climber more interested in applause than altruism. Elphaba and Glinda become reluctant roommates and have misadventures in elementary school with classmates like Boq (Ethan Slater), a Munchkin smitten by Glinda, and Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey), an unwell prince. Eventually, the two women become unlikely friends.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6COMYeLsz4c

Glinda hopes to learn sorcery from the imposing Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), but it’s Elphaba who impresses the professor. Morrible believes her natural talent for magic could make her a valuable asset to the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum), the mystical ruler of Oz. In the end, Elphaba goes to see the wizard, which changes the course of history – just not in the way anyone expects.

Chu’s film is a powerful and heartfelt adaptation that explodes with vivid choreography, gorgeous costumes and soaring emotions. The stage show was a dramaturgical marvel – you’ll never forget the first time you see Elphaba fly. Chu translates that energy into a cinematic idiom, while using film’s unique gifts to tell the story with greater scale and intimacy. His camera sweeps around dancers, takes us inches from a tearful face, and shoots us into the clouds on the tail of Elphaba’s broom. The lighting and color grading leave something to be desired (especially when conjuring up the 1939 film, a Technicolor feast), but these shortcomings are usually overcome by the zest of the story and the performances.

Indeed, one of the film’s greatest assets is the sheer star power of Erivo and Grande. As Elphaba, Erivo conveys strength, determination and almost buried vulnerability. Grande gives one of the best comedic performances of the year, physically precise and anchored by a lovable human need. And of course, “Wicked” lets both women showcase their world-class vocals. At times the vocals get too showy – both stars have a tendency to run when a single note would do – but it’s hard to knock with as much talent on display.

The film is inevitably only half the story. Still, there’s a whole arc here: it’s not the whole story of “Wicked,” but the story of Elphaba awakening to political consciousness. She begins the film longing for acceptance, but becomes invested in the plight of Oz’s talking animals, who face a campaign of marginalization: harassed, threatened and forced out of work. Doctor Dillamond (a goat professor voiced by Peter Dinklage) explains that the backlash against animals began after a recent period of economic hardship: “Food got scarce, people got hungrier and angrier. And the question became, ‘Who can we blame?'”

“Wicked” the musical is overall a much lighter work than the novel. Maguire’s novel is deeply political (and deeply Catholic), a meditation on how governments, religions, and societies seek out villains: scapegoats to redirect popular anger or monstrous threats to coerce loyalty. He was initially inspired by coverage of the Gulf War, which compared Saddam Hussein to Hitler. “I was surprised to find that my pulse quickened for military action, even though I had been a card-carrying protester of the Vietnam War,” he told the Denver Gazette in 2021. As a gay Catholic, his concern about the church he loves being unable to fully accept him or his family informs the work as well.

The stage musical removed much of the most difficult material from Maguire’s book, while retaining its core issues and adapting them to a new political moment: the early days of the war on terror. I’m interested to see how these themes resonate with film audiences today. Chu’s film opens weeks after the end of a presidential campaign marked by fear and division. If you asked a random sample of Americans to identify who the “enemy” is today, their answers would likely vary – but I have no doubt they would have immediate answers. It’s worth questioning where our ideas of “the enemy” come from, and the motives of those who tell us who to blame and fear.

“Wicked” succeeds as entertainment, but it can also inspire us to ask some important questions. Who is good and who is evil in our society – and who gets to decide?