I never thought I'd be writing this. I鈥檝e always considered myself a "man's man". I like my steaks rare, my drinks strong, my conversations shallow, my sports violent. Musicals? Not my thing. Too flamboyant, too choreographed, too... Broadway. A world of sequins, jazz hands, and show tunes never called to me.
So when I got an invite to one of the first Wicked performances at Civic Theatre in San Diego, I almost said no. I had just got back from a trip, exhausted. But then I figured, what the heck, I'd sit through it, maybe sip on a whiskey at intermission, and forget about it by morning.
But here's the thing - I didn鈥檛 just enjoy Wicked. I LOVED it. I sat there, watching this Wizard of Oz prequel unfold, and felt something inside me shift. By the time the lights dimmed for intermission, I wasn't just entertained - I was completely absorbed, like I had been sucked through some green-tinted portal into the Land of Oz itself.
And it made me realize something: How many men miss out on truly great art because we're too afraid of how it it's been labeled and would be perceived? Too worried about whether it鈥檚 "manly" enough? It's a sad, self-inflicted curse - one I almost let keep me from experiencing something absolutely incredible.
Let's talk about the set. Because, my god, the sets. This wasn鈥檛 just a stage - it was a breathing, living world. Massive, intricate gears turned like the inner workings of a great mechanical beast. The Emerald City glowed like an otherworldly fever dream. The robotic mask of Oz?! Don't get me started. There was such a depth to the whole thing, an atmosphere, a fully realized vision of Oz that felt more immersive than anything I had imagined as a kid.
The costumes were just as insane. Elphaba's signature green skin wasn鈥檛 just a gimmick; it was a statement, a visual rebellion against the gloss and polish of Glinda's sparkly, pink utopia. Every character had a presence, a look that made them feel distinct. It was detailed. It was bold. It was a visual feast. And then, the music. Absolutely BANGERS!
I walked in thinking musicals were all fluff. I walked out humming the damn songs for days. The standout? Defying Gravity, of course!听The moment Elphaba rose into the air, belting out that final note before intermission, something primal ignited in my chest. This wasn't just a song; it was a war cry. A middle finger to convention. The entire theater held its breath as she ascended - defiant, unbreakable. It was impossible not to get swept up in it.
Then there was Popular, Glinda鈥檚 sickly sweet, borderline satirical anthem of self-improvement. It was the perfect contrast - light, bouncy, hilarious, yet sneakily sharp. Watching her prance around the stage, weaponizing charm like a tactical nuke, was pure genius. Every song had weight, had purpose. They weren鈥檛 just catchy - they mattered.
After the show, I found myself looking up the movie adaptation, fully expecting it to be a letdown. But it wasn't. It pulled me back in. I wanted more. I wanted to live in that world again. The film was fantastic, but likely wouldn't have been nearly as digestible had I not seen the play beforehand. 听And now? Now I鈥檓 wondering what other musicals I鈥檝e been missing. What other stories are waiting to hijack my senses and leave me breathless.
If I had let these self-inflicted ideas of masculinity define me, I would have missed out on one of the most incredible performances I've ever seen. And for what? To protect some outdated sense of what's "manly"? Art is art. If something moves you, if it shakes you to your core, it doesn鈥檛 matter if it comes wrapped in leather or glitter.听
I used to think musicals weren鈥檛 for me. Now, I can鈥檛 wait to see the next one. And if you鈥檙e reading this, wondering whether you should give Wicked a shot - do it. Don鈥檛 let your ego talk you out of experiencing something spectacular. Just go. And let it blow your mind.
So yeah, I guess I鈥檝e changed. I guess I like musicals now. And I鈥檓 not ashamed to admit it. Don't let toxic masculinity hold you back.
And as Elphaba herself says, 鈥淚t鈥檚 not easy being green.鈥� But sometimes, stepping outside your comfort zone is exactly what sets you free.
Originally published on February 7, 2025.
