I watched Wicked with the feeling that I was entering Oz from the wrong side of the curtain, which is exactly what makes the film so compelling. Instead of treating the familiar land as a simple place of wonder, it turns Oz into a society built on image, rumor, privilege, and carefully managed stories. The movie does not ask me to forget what I know about witches, yellow roads, emerald glamour, or flying monkeys. It asks me to question who taught me to understand those images in the first place.