
As a recovering theater kid (and recovering liberal), musicals still have a strong grip on my heart. Growing up, Wicked songs were everywhere—used in classes, recitals, and perhaps even a few ill-fated auditions. But, believe it or not, I’d never seen the full show performed. I knew a few of the scenes, sure, but not the complete story.
When the first act of the musical was adapted for the big screen, I decided to change that. My mom and I trekked to the theater, snacks and drinks in tow, but I remained a little hesitant. Would they do the show justice? Would I be disappointed—or worse—feel preached to?
Instead, I was pleasantly surprised. Not only were the costumes, choreography, and talent incredible, but the story’s message resonated with me in a way I hadn’t expected. It was oddly aligned with arguments conservatives have been making for years.
And I hate to burst the bubble of online commentators, but the truth remains: Wicked is a conservative movie, and you cannot change my mind.
Silenced professors and free speech on campus
In the land of Oz, animals with the ability to speak are discriminated against and eventually silenced. One such animal is Dr. Dillamond, a goat and history professor at Shiz University, where the story begins. His line in the film struck me deeply: “If you make it discouraging enough, you can keep anyone silent.”

This is precisely what conservative students and professors have been saying for years about higher education in America. If Dr. Dillamond had been a professor at my alma mater, Harvard University, he would have faced numerous “discouragements.”
Consider the "Abysmal" rating the institution got from the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), a rating built off stories like a biology lecturer blasted for asserting that there are two sexes and an economist who received serious backlash for publishing empirical findings that suggest police do not actually shoot Black Americans at a higher rate than white Americans. The message is clear—disagree with dominant leftist talking points, and you’ll be silenced.
This echoes the plight of Elphaba, Wicked’s misunderstood protagonist. Like Dr. Dillamond, she faces pressure to silence her beliefs and give up her fight to protect Oz’s animals. But she refuses, recognizing that compromising her principles would be a betrayal. By not backing down, she is actually able to convert a couple of other students to her cause. It’s a similar experience that I and several of my classmates had at Harvard. It’s worth the fight.
The false magic of big government in Wicked
Everyone in Oz worships the Wizard, relying on him to solve their problems. But as Elphaba discovers, he’s just a man behind a curtain, using smoke and mirrors to maintain an illusion of control. There’s plenty of flash but little substance—eerily similar to our bloated federal, state, and even city governments.

Elphaba’s power is unleashed when she realizes something I hope all Americans one day come to understand: the government is not coming to save us. As Ronald Reagan famously said, “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, ‘I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.’” The real power lies within individuals and their communities, not in centralized bureaucracies.
Moreover, the movie warns against taking power in exchange for silence. The Wizard promises Elphaba influence and recognition, but only if she stops her fight for the animals who literally cannot speak for themselves (like the unborn…but that’s a blog post for another day). This should resonate deeply with social conservatives in particular. We are often told to “moderate” our views to be more palatable, but all this does is cede ground in the fight for the Overton window. It’s a losing strategy. If anything, Wicked shows us that silence is never the answer.
Identity politics misses a larger picture
The majority of takeaways I’ve seen from Wicked seem to stop at its perceived messaging about diversity, equity, and inclusion. To be clear, I'm not dismissing the fact that this show is about belonging. But to take away only that from this show means missing out on equally important deeper truths the story reveals. While Elphaba’s green skin is a factor in how she’s treated, the larger theme is not about her appearance but her exceptional abilities and refusal to conform.

Her poignant lyrics in “The Wizard and I” reflect this:
“And with all his Wizard wisdom / By my looks, he won’t be blinded…
No, he’ll say to me I see who you truly are / A girl on whom I can rely.”
It’s reminiscent of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech:
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation
where they will not be judged by the color of their skin
but by the content of their character.”
King’s vision has been co-opted in ways he might not have recognized. Even his son Martin Luther King III, has been quoted saying, “I don’t think we can ignore race.” Today, it seems that we fixate on identity over character. (To borrow from Glinda’s essay on magic wands: “Liberals: need they miss the point?”) In Wicked, Elphaba’s color shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be mocked in the way we see it is by those at Shiz, but she also shouldn’t be celebrated for it like I’ve seen some viewers do on social media. The only things that should matter are her actions and her character.
At its core, Wicked is not about the consequences of exclusion based on appearance (which we know to be abhorrent) but about remaining fixated on our outsides, allowing majority discourse to silence the truth and the importance of rejecting overlording and deceptive government power.
Musical theater is not a lost cause
Musicals like Wicked remind us of the power of storytelling for any movement. The show has overrun social media and popular discourse. Imagine how powerful it would be if conservatives entered the conversation, not as critics of the medium but as creators and visionaries ourselves. Conservatives have long been quick to dismiss certain artistic domains like musical theater as territory conquered by the left. But I say this is a medium well worth reclaiming, engaging in, and perhaps changing (for good).
Rather than standing back and letting the left define the conversation around works like Wicked, while conservatives simply criticize what's been said or shrug and ignore, we should demonstrate how these stories also speak to our values and to universal, objective truths. Who knows? In the same space viewers have been holding for Wicked’s “Defying Gravity,” there may be room for some conservative values too.
About the author
LyLena D. Estabine is an award-winning multidisciplinary artist holding a Bachelor of Arts in Sociology from Harvard University, where she converted to Catholicism. Writing on her faith and Catholic social teaching, she regularly publishes short poems on her Instagram (@catholicpoems). Her poems have been published in various literary journals such as the Clayjar Review, As Surely As the Sun Lit, Heart of Flesh Literary, and the Catholic Poetry Room. She is the founder of Voice & Virtue (@voicexvirtue), a literary journal and press for conservative, Christian, and Catholic work.
I felt similarly when watching it! It's refreshing to see someone else call the free speech and censorship from government out. Thank you for this!