OZFlying monkeys, melting witches, magical slippers. I bet right now, you already know what I am talking about. In fact, I find it hard to imagine a world that had never been introduced to L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Honestly, how many of us have been splashed by water and at least thought, “I’m meeelllting!” Or who among us has found themselves in a situation where they wished fervently they could click their heels together, whisper “I want to go home,” and vanish away somewhere comfortable and familiar? For myself, while a resident of Omaha, I saw my very first tornado warning on the television and my first thought -- well, second thought, right after “I’m going to die!” -- was “Hmm, I wonder if my apartment will land on a witch?”
The 1939 movie of The Wizard of Oz has undoubtedly reached iconic proportions in our society. Today, one set of Dorothy’s ruby slippers resides in no less prestigious an abode than the Smithsonian. According to that bastion of internet “knowledge” (let’s go ahead and use the term loosely here), Wikipedia, another pair of ruby slippers sold in 2000 for $666,000. And how many versions exist of “Over the Rainbow”? I gave up counting. The original version, however, not only made it into the American Film Institute’s AFI’s 100 Years . . . 100 Songs, but is ranked at number one. And the musical adaptation, The Wiz (1975), which retells the story through African American culture, received numerous Tonys, including Best Musical. Should I have a chance to see that production, I would definitely like to, but I have thus far avoided the 1978 movie of the same name since it has been my experience that when musicals become movies, something gets lost in translation.
But
what about the book that started it all? What about L.
Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
(originally published in 1900) and the other thirteen
books that Baum wrote in the series? “Wait”, I hear
somebody say, “There is a series?” Yes, indeed
there is. It consists of forty (egads and things on
toast!) books, although the series creator only wrote
the first fourteen. In fact, an original Oz book was
published every Christmas between 1913 and 1942. Here I have to admit that I have not
read all forty books; I found that the books written by
other writers seem slightly empty in comparison to
Baum’s, so I stopped reading the series rather than
tarnish my enjoyment of the originals. Um, yes, I was
that weird as a child. Why do you ask?What interests me is how many people would be appalled if I said I had watched The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and have not read the book, but do not bat an eye if I say I have seen The Wizard of Oz and have not read the book. (Which is, moreover, clearly untrue.) It seems to me -- and I hope this is an erroneous observation -- that while the 1939 movie is an integral part of many people’s childhoods, the original books are not nearly as beloved. In my opinion, this is a shame because, L. Frank Baum created a world with just as much magic and enjoyment as C.S. Lewis’ Narnia or Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain. Oz calls to children and to those adults who wish to remember childhood with a wonderful mix of ingenuity, whimsy and humor. Oh yes, and a touch of darkness… and a whole lot of weirdness.
While I enjoyed the 1939 movie, when I look at all the various adaptations of the series, I must admit that I would rather have the books. ‘Tis true that I am a purist, so every time I read another book or watch a TV show “based on L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, I feel as though I am watching somebody reinvent the wheel. Everybody who comes after wants to mark their own little corner of the land of Oz (since it is such an extraordinary land, I can hardly blame them), but what they create pales in comparison to the original.
Remember
Return to Oz? Created as a fusing of The
Land of Oz and Ozma of Oz (Books 2 and 3
in the series respectively), this sequel went places
that made me think maybe I needed to join Dorothy (Fairuza
Balk) in some electroshock therapy. Which reminds me:
Aunt Em (Piper Laurie) and Uncle Henry (Matt Clark) sent
Dorothy to electroshock therapy! I’ll say it again:
electroshock therapy, for the love of all that’s
holy! That scene with Dorothy in the turn-of-the-century
psychiatric ward really upset me as a child, and I was
relieved when I read Ozma of Oz and found out
that the original did not send our heroine off to be
jolted out of her “fantasies”. I did not like the idea
that the people Dorothy loved thought she was
desperately mental. What was the screenwriter thinking?
And do not get me started about
the
Wheelers. Baum made them suitably disconcerting;
nobody improved upon these characters by costuming them
like extras that should be flitting about a disturbing
80’s rock video.Childhood trauma aside, Return to Oz also removed some of the enduring moments which added the defining flavors to the books. I particularly liked the exchange between Jack Pumpkinhead and the Scarecrow as they discuss (quite verbosely) how they cannot understand each other since Jack speaks the language of the Pumpkinheads and Scarecrow speaks the language of the Munchkins. So they call in an interpreter, but proceed to have a delightful conversation amongst themselves while they await the interpreter’s arrival, only to have the interpreter explain Oz only has one language. And I sorely missed some of the main characters: Tip, General Jinjur, the Hungry Tiger. I think I need my hipster glasses on before I say this, but: everybody knows the Cowardly Lion, who knows about the Hungry Tiger? When those involved in creating Return to Oz edited away all those moments of wit and removed so many vital characters, they rendered the story weird in a disjointed sort of way.
But
even Return to Oz did not prepare me for a more
recent interpretation. OK, I know there is a cult
following, and I know somebody somewhere will curse my
name when they read this, but here goes: I did not like
the miniseries Tin Man (2007). I felt as though
somebody had chewed up Firefly, Star Wars and
three John Wayne movies and spat them onto a script. I
mean, when the protagonist DG (Zooey Deschanel) arrives
in Oz (oh, excuse me, Oz is too old school, it is now
The O.Z.), she lands in Aztec Endor. I wish I were
joking. The Munchkins are wearing bright paint and
bright feathers and look like they live in terror of
Hernan Cortes. I think the Munchkins must have killed
the Ewoks and stolen their homes, because they even have
the same arboreal dwellings in what appears to be the
same forest. Maybe they just recycled a set from
Caravan of Courage. And I know that convenient plot
devices are an entirely mockable staple of Fantasy and
Sci-Fi, but there is enough deus ex machina in
Tin Man to keep the entire Greek pantheon busy.I think my biggest complaint about the miniseries, however, is that Tin Man does not add anything to the series -- it just made me tilt my head and say, “Huh?” Why did Oz need to be “updated”? I have not seen anybody update Narnia, and I am probably about as far removed from 1940’s British school kids as I am from a turn-of-the-century American farm girl. And why does Oz (I will not call it “The O.Z.”) need hookers? Baum made quite clear in his author’s note at the front of each book that he wrote about Oz for children. I am not a prude, but seeing a hooker lounging about in Oz made me feel scummy.
About halfway through Tin Man, it seems that those involved realized that merely updating the story was not enough, and they stopped trying to retell The Wizard of Oz with a futuristic flare, and tried going their own direction. Once Tin Man veers away from paralleling The Wizard of Oz, it actually feels like the plot picks up and we can even begin liking the characters. To be sure, Azkadellia (Kathleen Robertson) has a moment where she channels Gollum a la The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, and Glitch (Alan Cumming) still looks like he’s tried to abscond with Johnny Depp’s wardrobe, but at least DG apparently had her angst gland removed and Wyatt Cain (Neal McDonough) tones down the done-to-death bitter gunfighter attitude. By the way, please stop calling it “The O.Z.” Anybody who has read Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz knows the true origin of the name Oz, and can tell you that it is much more amusing than that lame attempt at a teen soap pun.
One
of the most interesting attempts, in my opinion, at
reinventing the Oz series, is the very popular book by
Gregory Maguire, Wicked. A friend of mine
loaned me this book not long after I finished rereading
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and I admit I was a
bit confused. To be sure, Maguire is a very talented
author who knows how to spin an engaging story, yet it
just does not feel like Oz. Perhaps it is the Freudian
undertones or the numerous unhappy amorous relationships
and affairs. Oh, and a suicide, let us not forget that.
When I asked my friend why she liked Wicked,
she said, “Well, Oz is just too naive and happy
and doesn’t seem real.” I asked if she had ever read the
books and she admitted she had only seen the movie. I
think anyone who remembers Princess Langwidere and her
room of interchangeable heads would say not everything
in Oz is happy. So I do not think it is so much that the
series is naïve, as much as it is viewed through the
eyes of children (let us not confuse innocence with
naïveté). Maguire shifts the focus away from the lens of
childhood and brings Oz into the adult world where, by
his own writings, I am not sure its creator ever meant
it to go.
Never
mind the ruby slippers in the Smithsonian, I can tell
that The Wizard of Oz must be a classic because
it has joined the ranks of Treasure Island and
A Christmas Carol . . . as a Muppet production.
Yes, that is correct, I actually sat through The
Muppet’s Wizard of Oz (2005). Since I have admitted
that I was not fond of Tin Man or Wicked,
you probably expect that I am not so inclined to watch
Miss Piggy dance about as the Wicked Witch of the West
or see Toto replaced by a prawn. Ah well, here goes my
credibility. I found the Muppet version to be much truer
than many recent adaptations to the spirit of the books.
While I am not sure why Dorothy (Ashanti) can no longer
be a farm girl and has to be an aspiring singer, I liked
that the movie kept that childlike appeal which is found
in the books, while mixing in the whimsical and the
silly. Wait, did somebody just exclaim, aghast: “They
made Toto a prawn?!” True, they did have Pepe the Prawn
(voiced by Bill Barretta) in the role, and I have some
mixed feelings about that, but I have to admit that I
like Pepe, which is why I am perhaps quite lenient on
the matter. Judging by the “spirit of the law” rather
than the “letter of the law”, I enjoyed the movie for
what it was: silly and entertaining, while not rivaling
the depth found in the book. It does not really go
anywhere brilliant, but it does try to retain the spirit
of Baum’s story.And it is a spirit that is well worth retaining. Certainly, the series has its flaws -- there are some continuity issues within the books, and it was written a century ago when people looked at the world differently than they do now -- but the original Oz still holds on to its sense of adventure, wit and creativity across the years, and I recommend it to anybody who wants to put aside being an adult for a little while and visit an extraordinary world.
These books gave rise to an American icon, and I think the best way to appreciate that icon is to give the books a read. Or else I may have to use the Golden Cap to sic the Winged Monkeys upon you.
--
Katie Hager
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