Wicked: For Good spoilers incoming…
As November rolls around and we mark Disability History Month here in the UK (20th November – 20th December) I find myself thinking about the stories we tell, past and present, the ones on stage, on screen, and amongst our own communities.
There is no doubt that stories shape how we see each other. For many Deaf, Disabled and Neurodivergent people, me included, those stories have so often been written through the lens of tragedy.
As someone who came into this world with a difference, born with Osteogenesis Imperfecta type three, my own life was marked as one of sadness. In fact, heartbreakingly my own mother says my birth was seen a tragedy rather than a cause for celebration. “I’m sorry” filled people’s mouths when they heard, as though my diagnosis was a death sentence. People didn’t come to visit Mum in hospital after she gave birth, because they felt sorry for us. A not too unfamiliar story for many Disabled people.
We are often marked as objects of inspiration, a cautionary tale to remind you to be grateful for your lot. We are the Bond villains and the damned. We are never portrayed as ones with agency, complexity or joy; never individuals with lives outside of our disability identity.
That’s why a small but powerful change in the second instalment of the box office smash hit, Wicked has stayed with me. In the original stage version, the character Nessarose, a wheelchair user, once longed to be “cured” to walk again, which is what happens at the end of the stage show when Elephaba (Cynthia Erivo) uses magic on her silver slippers (later ruby) so that she can walk. But in the latest and final instalment of the cinematic adaptation Wicked: For Good, her wish isn’t about walking or to become ‘normal’- whatever that means. It’s about magic. Ultimately, Nessarose wants to feel love again - a normal human experience. So instead of walking, as in the musical, we see her fly.
Wicked composer Stephen Schwartz has said of the change that he and the Winnie Holzman (the screenwriter and book writer of the stage show)“learned … from the PWD [people with disabilities] community” that having Nessarose’s life “solved” by walking sent the wrong message.
“I am so happy with the change, the old narrative was outdated,” – Marissa Abode, the actor who plays Nessarose, and who is a wheelchair user, has also said.
Not only is this a refreshing depiction of disability, it is also monumental for all Disabled creatives. Too many storylines that depict disabled characters are often played by non-disabled actors (Marissa has been a wheelchair user since being paralysed in a car accident aged 11.)
The fact that Nessarose no longer wants to be cured means that her character can actually be played by a Disabled actor with - shock horror - real lived experience instead of ‘cripping up’ a term used to describe non-disabled people taking roles that should be given to Disabled actors. This is so important not only in terms of creating authentic narratives, but also it recognises that Disabled people are living in an ableist world that leaves them fighting against the tide of an inequal playing field with less opportunities across the board. Marissa is the first wheelchair user ever to take on the role, for this exact reason.
Rejoicify, Wicked fans. You can now visit Elphaba's Retreat with Airbnb – and yes, Cynthia could be there with you.
The scene becomes less about “cure” and more about wonder, a magical and emotional transformation. And in that shift, something beautiful happens; Disability stops being a problem to solve or overcome and becomes simply part of the world’s fabric, as ordinary and extraordinary as any spell. It recognises that Disability is a social construct and, in that moment, Nessarosa’s character is granted more agency and autonomy. Rather than being a passive object for pity.
A reminder, that not all stories with Disabled characters have to overcome their impairment to be seen and cherished. Because disability is complex, nuanced and beautiful.
As a full-time wheelchair user, I gleefully welcomed this honest and authentic change. I love my disability identity and have never longed to be cured or walk. In fact, as a small infant I was carried around on a pillow thus solidifying my rather ‘princess on her throne persona’. Nowadays, my wheelchair is my throne.
I vividly remember getting my very first manual wheelchair. It was candyfloss pink. Perfect for a girlie girl who loved Barbie and baby dolls. A core memory that is so clear in my minds-eye, I couldn’t have been older than four, sat with my parents and a representative from the children’s charity Whizz Kids who had funded the chair. We gathered huddled around this enchanted offering in awe, sun beaming down on us, as though the universe new this was going to be a magical day. Freedom I thought.
Not only did I have my pink wheels, the company my Dad worked for all came together to raise funds for what can only be described as the Lamborghini of wheelchairs. My super techy powerchair was Ferrari red and a had dark brown faux fur seat cover that looked like Snoop Dog had literally pimped my wheelchair. What I loved the most aside from its striking appearance was the fact that this chair elevated to eye level so I could be on the same level as my peers but best of all it lowered flush to the ground so that I could safely and independently bum shuffle from the chair to the floor. With this powerful tool I was unstoppable.
You see, contrary to popular belief, I don’t view my Disability as a bad thing and my wheelchair isn’t something that confines me, quite the contrary. I don’t wake up each morning and look at my wheelchair which is always neatly parked next to my bed - normally with a hairless Sphynx cat strategically perched on its seat – and think, how tragic my life is. It’s simply how I live and move around. It’s my freedom, my independence and although my disability doesn’t define who I am, it is absolutely part of my multifaceted identity.
Nessarose’s story reminds us all how powerful and needed it is to recognise that Disability isn’t something to hide, mourn, or heroically overcome. It’s a culture, a community, an identity rich with creativity and resilience. And that it’s about time that we challenge those tired tropes that tell us our value lies in being “inspirational” or “fixed.” We don’t need curing; we need acceptance, accessibility, and authenticity.
I’d often look in the mirror and question: what do they see that is so bad?
I truly wished I’d had strong empowering characters like Nessarose growing up. The truth is the only other Disabled I saw growing up tended to be on shows such as Children in Need. For many years I internalised those feeling of being a burden, a nuisance and a tragedy. I honestly, didn’t know nor believe that I could have a happy and successful life.
When the narrative shifts, so does the world around us. When children grow up seeing Disabled characters who are powerful, romantic, funny, and magical not tragic, they grow up seeing Disability as part of the human experience, not outside it. And that’s the real magic. This creative choice pushes the audience to see her not as an object of sympathy but as a whole, complex character whose Disabled identity coexists with her power, her emotions, and her humanity.
Disability is part of who I am, my wheelchair empowers and liberates me. I’m not someone who says my Disability is my superpower Because I also recognise that life is not so binary and like anyone else, I have my good days and my bad days. Some days I feel like the good witch and the bad.
Disabled people, like you, deserve love, respect and dignity
Final thoughts: although, I love that fact that Nessarose’s character didn’t want to change who she was, bit I can't help but feeling there was a little bit of a missed opportunity when it came to fleshing out her character.
Also, one could argue that Nessarose is still very much depicted as the villain in the story, as she stops the munchkins from being able to leave Munchkinland because she perhaps selfishly wants to keep hold of Bock when he tries to leave and declare his love for Glenda (Ariana Grande) . This can somewhat feed into the harmful stereotype we’ve seen time and time again in cinema that Disability makes you somehow evil or to be revered. For me, it just shows that Disabled people are humans, some of us are good, compassionate and wise and others are selfish, jealous and insecure. Nessarose as the ‘villain’ in this instance is less about her disability and more about her raw human emotions.
Because disabled people are people at the end of the day, end of story. We want all the magic and wonders of the world just like everyone else. Friendship, love, respect, success, safety and dignity.
**Wicked: For Good is in cinemas nationwide from November 21st **
