Wicked's Nessarose Problem

I’m cheating here. Not only am I able-bodied, but wheelchair-bound individuals have discussed this in more depth due to their lived experience. Still, as someone with Autism, therefore experiencing ableism myself, I feel I can somewhat discuss this with the knowledge I have. So let’s do that. Let’s talk Nessarose.

Like I said before, I love Wicked. I love the play, I love the music, and I was surprised by how much I loved the movie adaptation. I understand the criticism surrounding the CGI and lighting, but as it doesn’t bother me more than other movies, especially since bright colours have bothered my eyes since I got glasses, I’m willing to tolerate it. It’s also not a dealbreaker. But I digress.

In my piece on Wicked Part 1, I mentioned the following:

“…[E]nough dazzles and surprises that it’s a shame I have to wait another year for the darker, more uncomfortably-aged second-half.”

I still hold this thought to be true: the second-half of this story’s much darker, but it also has a scene that hasn’t exactly stood the test of time. (I’d argue it was bad even in 2003, but that’s a separate issue.) I didn’t think it was worth discussing without ruining an otherwise-fantastic story…until I discovered that Marissa Bode, who plays Nessarose, is a wheelchair user. Since disabilities aren’t something you can turn off, her casting’s a big deal. I applaud her for breaking down barriers in an industry that, sadly, still doesn’t get disabilities like hers.

So yes, I was excited and scared. I was excited because Jon M. Chu and the writers had a new challenge to work with, but also scared because I’m unsure if they knew what they were up against. Because Nessarose…is a functionally-awful character in the second-half. And for that, I have to discuss some spoilers. You’ve been warned:

In the second-half of the second-half of Wicked, Elphaba, now The Wicked Witch of the West, checks in on Nessarose to plead with her and call off her arrest warrant. Nessarose, having inherited their late-father’s role as Munchkinland’s governor, has influence, but the encounter proves futile. Nessarose blames Elphaba for their father’s death, and she’s revealed by Boq to be a tyrant. Her resentment over her disability has also made her envious of Elphaba, and, seeing Elphaba’s magic book, wishes for her legs to work.

It gets worse when, after granting that wish, Nessarose curses Boq and removes his heart with a spell, nearly killing him. Elphaba remedies the situation with a counterspell before leaving, and it turns Boq into a tin man with a vendetta against Elphaba and Nessarose. Boq gets his revenge on Nessarose when Dorothy’s house kills her, but he doesn’t get his revenge on Elphaba. We wouldn’t have The Wizard of Oz if he did!

There are two problems here. The first is obvious: Nessarose, the story’s only outwardly-disabled character, is portrayed unflatteringly. This sends a subconscious message that reinforces how people with disabilities are spiteful. As someone who’s Autistic, I assure you this belief has led people with influence to either stigmatize us further, or “cure” us. I don’t need curing, and that stigmatization has restricted my independence.

The second issue involves Nessarose using Elphaba’s book to walk. The notion of wanting to “be fixed” isn’t unheard of with physically-disabled individuals, but it’s a form of internalized-ableism. People with disabilities don’t need “fixing”. Rather, the world needs to adapt to them. It’s this disconnect between what disabled individuals need and what society expects that appears in this scene.

I get it: this is fiction, and sometimes you need contrivances. Nessarose’s heel-turn to villainy’s important for Boq’s transformation into The Tin Man, and also The Wizard of Oz’s story in general. While that’s true, it’s still ableism. Nessarose becoming a secondary-antagonist, tragic as it is, can’t be changed, especially not with its parallels to how disabled individuals sometimes contradict their community’s best interests when given power. Nessarose “curing” her disability, however, is a choice.

Remember, Marissa Bode’s a wheelchair user in real life. The casting director made sure Nessarose was played by a disabled actress, a rarity in Hollywood, only to come up against ableism. And while Bode might have the limited mobility to pull this off, I don’t want her to. It’s bad enough that one ableist trope’s necessary without another one being utilized too. Bode also deserves better.

There’s an easy workaround, but it requires changing a plot beat: Nessarose doesn’t need to be cured. She can be resentful of Elphaba for their father’s death, and she’d have good cause. It’s not like he loved Elphaba the same way he loved Nessarose, and Elphaba didn’t do him any favours by turning against The Wizard. Elphaba’s already brought shame to her family without the ableism.

If Chu and Bode are to be respectful, then they need to axe that part of Nessarose’s character. It might not go over well with purists, but it’ll send a much better message to audiences. I hope that happens, but Wicked Part 2’s also a year away from release. And it’s practically finished production. I guess we’ll see what happens…