Lately, I’ve been concerned with some weighty issues; concerns of law, procedures of licensing, the capturing of history and the pain of network/system administration. But one question has been gnawing at my soul for the past month or so, working its way into my quiet times, and threatening to take over all my attention if not aired for the world.
Why is “The Wiz” such a bad movie?
I never saw this movie in the theater as a kid; it didn’t play in Fishkill, NY and all my movie experience before I was 12 came from either the theater in the Dutchess Mall or from the local drive-in. I read about it in a magazine about how much work was done on the production, how they used all these great locations in New York City, and what cool stuff they did with special effects. I figured it was great.
Recently, an episode of the show Family Guy obscurely referenced the song Brand New Day from The Wiz, and this caused me to track down the source of the song and acquire a copy of the movie. I watched it through, figuring I’d finally give some time to a classic.
Oh man, was I wrong. I’d go off on it for 10 paragraphs about why it was so bad, but someone scooped me and did so brilliantly, I will yield the stage to him. This review originally appeared in IMDB.
Sleaze on down the road…
17 September 2004
Author: Merwyn Grote (firstname.lastname@example.org) from St. Louis, Missouri
THE WIZ is a bad movie. It is a very bad movie. It is an extremely very bad movie.
To watch it is to be infuriated by just how much potential it has and how far it falls from even vaguely achieving success. A black, urban version of “The Wizard of Oz” is an intriguing idea. The musical score is okay and at least three of the songs are better than average. The budget was obviously substantial and a lot of effort was put into transforming New York City into Munchkinland, the Emerald City and points in between. But rather than being in awe of the spectacle, one is more likely to stare in disbelief and ask “What were they thinking?”
Sidney Lumet, a fine director noted for making small, dark and often depressing dramas (12 ANGRY MEN, FAIL-SAFE, THE PAWNBROKER, etc.), seems ill-prepared to make a big budget musical based on a series of children’s books — and, unfortunately, he proves it. I don’t think he makes a single intelligent directorial decision in this entire film: the lighting is gloomy, camera placement consistently ineffective and the editing clumsy. His choice of soft, grainy imagery over crisp, clear pictures makes the atmosphere oppressive. The set design, art direction and costuming, while impressive, still look numbingly cheap and tawdry. Scenes filmed on location at New York landmarks look like they take place on cramped soundstages. The film is just plain ugly to watch.
Worse, Lumet seems to have directed the actors to perform in a soap opera style that is embarrassingly overwrought: the prevailing mood is of whining self-pity. Michael Jackson, Nipsey Russell and Ted Ross get in a few good moments as The Scarecrow, The Tin Woodsman and The Cowardly Lion, but there is not a single honest moment to be found in the performance by Diana Ross. To accommodate Ross, six-year-old Dorothy from the book (played as 13 by 16-year-old Judy Garland in THE WIZARD OF OZ), now is a 24-year-old Harlem kindergarten teacher. At 34-years-old, Ross looks more like she is pushing 50, yet displays the emotional maturity of a three-year-old.
Ross’ miscasting is legendary, but her inappropriateness for the role pales in comparison to her actual performance. In rewriting the story for Ross, Joel Schumacher’s screenplay changes Dorothy from being a winsome, wide-eyed child to an emotionally unstable adult. In Ross’ dubious hands the character seems both mentally and emotionally retarded, yet she somehow manages to avoid making the character in any way sympathetic. Strident, always on the verge of hysterics, it is, simply put, one of the all time worst screen performances.
Richard Pryor fares little better. Instead of the lovable charlatan played by Frank Morgan in the 1939 version of the story, the Wizard is now a cowering little fraud, devoid of wit or charm. Why hire Pryor, known for his bravado and cocky attitude, then make him play against type? The filmmakers decided that this Wizard did not just have to be exposed as an illusion, but had to be humiliated and degraded as well. The scenes where Dorothy confronts and belittles The Wiz illustrate the mean-spirited cruelty that permeates the entire film.
The most curious aspect of THE WIZ is trying to decipher just who it was intended for. Obviously, the material was meant to appeal to children, thus it’s strangely inappropriate “G” rating; yet the mystical, magical land of good and evil from earlier versions is transformed into a foreboding world of terror and despair. Oz seems to be an extended slum, populated by the homeless, vandals, hookers, bookies, druggies, various street people and gangs; while the Emerald City is a superficial place for shallow, pretentious phonies. While the tone of the film is juvenile — almost infantile — it all takes place in a seedy adult world that is almost prurient.
THE WIZ doesn’t just avoid childlike innocence, it seems to hold it in contempt. Garland’s Oz was basically a beautiful place where evil could be conquered with intellect, compassion, courage and the security of family and friends. The Oz that Ross treks through is basically an evil place; the message she learns is that the world stinks, so stop your whining and get used to it. The “there’s no place like home” moral remains intact, but that has little meaning if the alternative — Oz — is seen as corrupt and evil.
In THE WIZARD OF OZ, Dorothy’s Oz is a dream world version of her own life; the Witch, the Wizard and her traveling companions all have human counterparts. This makes the 1939 film a personal story. In THE WIZ, there is no apparent correlation between Oz and Dorothy’s seemingly isolated home life, the people of Oz and Dorothy’s family have no counterparts. Garland’s Dorothy escapes to Oz, but realizes the best part of Oz is already part of her. Ross’ Dorothy fears Oz and ultimately escapes from it. The inner dream world of Oz becomes an alien world of media-generated stereotypes. THE WIZARD OF OZ is a fantasy; THE WIZ is a horror story.
Obviously reworking the basic story to accommodate an all-black cast wasn’t done just to utilize a different style of music. As such, the film becomes a showcase for a panorama of African-American stereotypes, many of them negative. But rather than debunking racist cliches, the film embraces them. Sleep inducing poppy fields are replaced with opium dens, witches become sweatshop slave drivers, flying monkeys are gang members, Munchkins are graffiti vandals and so on and so forth. As adult satire, such imagery is understandable, if lame, but the film forgets this is still a story specifically aimed at children. Just as the film was rewritten from the play to accommodate the adult Ross, the material is altered from L. Frank Baum’s books to make it adult, but not mature. It seems to be the film’s conviction that to tell the story from a black perspective it must embrace a grim urban reality, basically saying that childlike innocence cannot exist because urban living, especially for a black audience, has destroyed such a concept. A sad commentary for a children’s fantasy and an even sadder assumption about African-American life.
The irony of THE WIZ is that it is ill-conceived, cheaply melodramatic and relies on trite stereotypes; in other words, it has no brain, no heart and no courage. And ultimately it found no home, being a box office flop. And what could have been a breakthrough landmark in cinema ends up being a sad relic of political incorrectness.
Pretty much says it all, doesn’t it. I will write a little more about stuff from a film creator’s perspective.
The movie is over-packed with songs, all of them unusually long; in some cases, a character will sing two entire songs back to back, with the full length (3-4 minutes) that comes with it and accompanied by a massive production number. This wears you down, and clocking in at over 2 hours, you really feel it getting to you. The director makes excessively poor choices of framing in some cases, which leads me to believe that there were other factors involved in the choices, like street availability and time given for shots.
There are some positives, though. One is Michael Jackson’s kinetic performance. He spends the entire movie as a bumbling scarecrow, and if you watch his feet throughout the picture, he brings in a stellar display of bumbling legs, twisting feet and jerky motion. If you watch it and tune out the rest, it’s quite amazing. Another stunner is the makeup, created by Stan Winston Studios. If you pause the screen and look at the makeup for all the characters, it’s absolutely brilliant and put together well enough for these actors to dance and run around at top speed with no obvious slowdown or damage. That’s really something.
The Wiz’s shadow movie is Little Shop of Horrors, an example of taking a Broadway Musical, playing to the strengths of the cinematic medium, and producing something greater than the original. Played back to back, the differences in how to work with similar material are striking.
….uh, I do not actually recommend this.
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