The Wiz (1978)

The Wiz (1978)

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Based on the hit Broadway musical, The Wiz puts an urban spin on The Wizard of Oz with an all-black cast and a post-apocalyptic New York City backdrop. Music sensation Diana Ross stars as Dorothy, a Harlem school teacher who’s so painfully shy, she can barely speak a word without falling over in shame. Ross is too old for this part, and Dorothy is written to be so weak and timid that the movie hurts for a lack of heroics. The actors playing her Yellow-Brick Road travelling companions, however, are stellar. The ‘King of Pop’ himself made his big screen debut in The Wiz. Michael Jackson is warm and endearing as the Scarecrow, while comedian Nipsey Russell gives the Tin Man more personality than the 1939 film did, and Ted Ross gives a robust performance as the Cowardly Lion.

Jackson, Russell, and Ross are the best things about The Wiz, but not far behind them is the inventive production design. This is a version of Oz where graffiti comes to three-dimensional life, where subway trash cans turn into terrifying monsters, and the Wicked Witch (here called Evillene, played over-the-top by Mabel King) runs a sweatshop in a brick loft. The character makeup is also remarkable — an early credit for special effects maestro Stan Winston.

As stylish as the film is, The Wiz is held back by its odd, inappropriate choice of director: Sidney Lumet (Network, Dog Day Afternoon). Lumet captures the film’s myriad musical numbers in stationary wide shots and sparse editing, robbing the numbers of energy or point-of-view. The songs may be an acquired taste, too. Only one — Michael Jackson’s “You Can’t Win” — lingers in the memory. At two hours and fifteen minutes, the film also runs out of steam by the time it enters its long, dull final act. By the time Richard Pryor and Lena Horne are brought out for their cameos as the Wizard and the Glinda the Good Witch, some may already be itching for the credits to roll. In the end, it’s a mixed bag of a film — remarkable for its imagination and endearing characterizations, but executed flatly by Lumet, and overstaying its welcome by about a half-hour.

Screenplay by Joel Schumacher (The Lost Boys, Falling Down). With Thelma Carpenter and Theresa Merritt.

Oscar Nominations: Best Cinematography (Oswald Morris), Art Direction, Costume Design, Adapted Score (Quincy Jones)