“I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Plot Summary: Dorothy travels over the rainbow to the land of Oz.

Review: 

The Wizard of Oz, which occupies a special place in our collective consciousness, remains as enchanting today as it was seventy years ago. Much of its enduring appeal is readily apparent, as it’s right there on the surface to see and hear: the eye-popping Technicolor photography, imaginative set designs, memorable special effects, colorful costumes, catchy songs, and wondrous characters, from talking scarecrows and dancing munchkins to wicked witches and flying monkeys, create an amazingly vivid, utterly captivating fantasy world brimming with unforgettable sights and sounds. Also, the performances by the entire cast are splendid. Among the array of memorable performances, Judy Garland and Margaret Hamilton have probably made the most lasting impressions. Much of the film’s charm hinges on Garland’s heartfelt performance as Dorothy. Whether seeing Toto being taken away from her, or singing about unknown wonders over the rainbow, or dancing down the Yellow Brick road, or cowering in the Wicked Witch’s castle, or bidding a fond farewell to her friends from Oz, Garland’s expressions of anguish, hope, joy, fear and sadness are always completely genuine and sincere, and the natural, unforced rapport she shares with the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion results in one of cinema’s deepest and most moving depictions of friendship. And then there’s Hamilton, whose dual performances as Miss Gulch and the Wicked Witch have deservedly entered cinematic folklore. Who can forget old sourpuss Miss Gulch, filmdom’s most memorable dog-and-child-hating old hag, as she furiously peddles her bicycle to the ‘da-da da-da da-da da-dum’ music, or the menacing Wicked Witch of the West, with her beady eyes, corpse-green face and gnarled fingers, as she screeches and cackles with malicious glee while threatening innocent Dorothy, “I’ll get you my pretty - and your little dog too!” Nobody has more frighteningly embodied our deepest childhood nightmares than Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West.

But all this still isn’t enough to explain the film’s uncanny hold on people generation after generation. Something deeper is going on. The film not only taps deeply into universal childhood fears of abandonment, strangers, and unfamiliar surroundings, but also common adolescent yearnings for independence, friendship, and adventure. On the cusp of the uneasy transition between childhood and young womanhood, Dorothy finds herself lost and alone in a scary, unfamiliar place, far from family and home; yet at the same time, she’s excited by the wondrous, beautiful new world she’s discovered, and happy to have met helpful and friendly fellow travelers on her journey. Because Garland was a sixteen year old playing a twelve year old, she had enough perspective on the material, unlike an actual twelve year old would have had, to strike just the right balance between her childish innocence and her adolescent stirrings, which is precisely what the role of Dorothy requires. (We can thank the cinematic gods that Shirley “my dimples are so adorable” Temple didn’t play Dorothy as originally intended. If she had, The Wizard of Oz would have become mired in a gooey mess of cloying cutesiness). Girls and boys alike relate deeply to Dorothy’s plight, and it may not be a stretch to say that watching The Wizard of Oz as children helped prepare us for the inevitable time when we have to leave the protection and security of “home” and venture out into that scary yet enticing world on our own. Thus, The Wizard of Oz is, finally, a reassuring coming-of-age tale, which teaches us that, like Dorothy, we too can successfully navigate down the yellow brick roads and through the haunted forests and poppy fields of life, and ultimately take control of our own destiny.

Posted on May 31st, 2008 by Mat Viola
Filed under: Reviews