Every so often, a story captures your imagination with a
lesson that will leave you sitting in the car with a handful of friends discussing
themes of pride, selfishness, beauty, and sacrifice. Last night, we had this experience.
So we (Jeremiah and Josiah) decided to share our thoughts.
I (Josiah) have always had a soft
spot for the world of Oz; the first book I ever read (aside from those dreadful
elementary readers) was The WonderfulWizard of Oz. I also love to see artists take established worlds and
reimagine them. You can imagine my delight, then, when I saw the teaser for Oz the Great and Powerful this past
autumn. I expected wonderful things, and, happily, I was not disappointed.
Oz unapologetically acts as a prequel to
the 1939 The Wizard of Oz, making several
delightful references to the classic film. The focus of Oz, however, is on the titular wizard. This man, as we meet him in
the film’s black-and-white opening sequence, is a self-centered charlatan, ladies’
man, and con-artist—hardly the makings of the wonderful wizard. But when a
cyclone transports him to the magical Land of Oz, the carnival magician is
expected to fulfill a prophesy by killing a wicked witch and restoring balance
to a kingdom.
Near
the start of the film, Oz explains “I don’t want to be a good man… I want to be
a great man!” Oz wants to forge a legacy, not to simply do his duty. Despite
his ambition, however, Oz is not a great man; he is merely a selfish one. This
tension between the man Oz is, the man Oz wants to be, and the man Oz ought to
be, represents the heart of the film.
In our generation, many of us aspire
to become great men and women. Heck, I (Jeremiah) want to be a great man. But
goodness is often seen as a hindrance to greatness. Look at Hollywood; look at
Washington DC; look at New York City: movie stars, politicians, and business executives
all seem eager to sacrifice their goodness on the altar of their ambitions.
Like many of us, Oz fights most of
his battles against his own faulty character—no outside power conspires to
corrupt him. And as the shortcomings in Oz’s character continue to exhibit
themselves, it becomes painfully clear that Oz can never be the savior and
ruler of the land that bears his name.
Flawed heroes are a staple of
modern fiction because audiences can identify with internal struggles. But,
typically, a hero has one major flaw such as fear, or vengefulness, or pride. The
wonderful wizard has many faults, and he sees each of them as an impassible obstacle,
preventing him from ever becoming a good man. It’s not that some fault inhibits
Oz’s inner heroism; it’s that, in his despair, he doesn’t want to be a hero at
all.
Oz
is not the sort of movie in which the arrival in the magical land completely
changes the perspective of the protagonist. The moment he dismounts his
balloon, Oz finds occasion to exercise his roguish tendencies. He soon
ascertains an opportunity to win the greatness he so covets: if he can convince
the inhabitants of Oz that he is the wizard foretold in their prophesy, then
immense power, riches, and prestige will belong to him. The selfish man in Oz
grasps at the great man Oz would be.
Oz
demonstrates that the would-be-wizard’s self-absorption does nothing but
multiply the kingdom’s problems; the selfish Oz is not good enough to save the
realm. The question Oz asks is “Can
such a thoroughly flawed man become a leader for the forces of good?”
The movie’s answer is consistent with
what we know as Christians: Christ can transform the worst of who we are into
something that is good and beautiful. When Oz surrenders his selfish ambition,
he learns that, despite his weaknesses, he can be used for good.
At one crucial point, the good
witch tells Oz: “If you can make them believe, then you’re wizard enough.” And,
they do believe: a porcelain girl, a good witch, a flying monkey—these and
other characters believe that Oz, despite his faults, can become the wizard of
prophesy. Their faith ultimately helps Oz to let go of his own ambition. By
valuing Oz above his worth, the wizard’s supporters help to turn their belief
into reality.
Heroes aren’t examples of
perfection; they are people who face their own imperfections and emerge victorious.
Heroes needn’t be flawless, only willing. Oz
reminds us that we shouldn’t wait until we’ve achieved personal perfection
before we reach out to others.
Oz does become a great man, but not
by seeking that status. As long as he pursues greatness, Oz is left with only
hollow ambition. But when he allows himself to be used for the good of
others—when he seeks to become a good man—then Oz becomes a great man as well.
Other aspects of Oz don’t disappoint. The eye-candy is
delightful, especially with the use of 3-D. The film effectively utilizes 3-D
effects that are stunning, but not distracting. The slightly-convoluted plot
wins no awards, but the nuanced character development and phenomenal acting
more than compensates. James Franco plays the sleazy wizard convincingly, and
both Rachel Weisz (Evanora) and Joey King (the porcelain girl) deliver breathtaking
performances. These elements combine to create a charming world that communicates
a meaningful truth.
In the film, Oz learns from the
example of his hero, Thomas Edison, that seemingly worthless materials can be
combined to create something truly magical. We learn from Oz’s story that our messy
lives can be shaped into something equally magical.
Written by Jeremiah Lorrig with guest contributor Josiah Duran. Josiah maintains his highly erratic own blog: Dark and Brite.
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