Can anyone recall the last time a show played for more than a year at the Gershwin? Sure, the Minskoff has managed to close twice as many shows in half the time (in addition to spending month after month dark), but the Gershwin's track record in recent years wouldn't even garner it lasting recognition in a high school hallway trophy case. But, I don't want to waste one more word on the mistakes of the past when I could instead use the power of the pen (read: "keyboard") to recognize the mistakes of the present.

Did I say "mistakes?" I meant "sheer acts of brilliance." Please forgive the confusion. Surely you can understand the slip up as I'm still reeling from the powerhouse performances of the leading ladies of Wicked. Described by a fellow theatre-obsessive (self-diagnosed, currently seeking treatment) as "the new home of nightly vocal pyrotechnics the likes of which Broadway sees less frequently than Bobby Brown sees sunlight as a free man without the shadow of his parole officer darkening his path."

If I were to dole out credit to the many individuals involved in assembling the production that has found its way to Broadway, there would be platinum cards in abundance. Economically unsound as that may seem, we could all use an evening where we toss basic principles aside and indulge in the tornado of energy and enthusiasm that currently storms through the Gershwin eight times a week.

While a considerable departure from both the iconic film as well the lesser known, but quite clever novel on which it's based, the book for the show is smartly penned with remarks that recognize that while a horse of a different color may be entertaining for some, a dazzling city constructed solely of precious gems is more certain to catch your attention. In this case, Director Joe Mantello has pulled a show together in such a way as to remind us that a truly inspired musical will find a way to incorporate both.

In this adaptation, we're provided with the back-story we've never heard of regarding both witches of Oz and how they came to be the ladies who lunch with little tiny men, flying monkeys, cowardly lions, and men made of straw or tin-- take your pick. The Good Witch and "The Green One" met in university, turns out. They were roomies. Yep. In the Quad. But, unlike the country-club campuses of today's finer universities, Shiz is a throwback to the sixties where you were either an activist or an apathist. While both young ladies decide to pursue a cause (Go Fiyero!!!), they also choose to pursue the same goals-- only through very different means.

Broadway's pixy of a princess, Kristin Chenowith, floats from on high as Glinda-- replete with gowns showered in enough glitter to indicate that Mariah Carey's failure of a "film" still managed to leave its mark on the entertainment world. Fortunately, that's as far as the metaphor extends since unlike Ms. Carey's, shall we say, "declining?" assets, Ms. Chenowith's holdings continue their ascent lifted ever-higher by her soaring mezzo and the same charm that has even the most judgmental of critics declaring that she is, indeed, legally blond. Chenowith's comic timing and universal appeal are evident in every scene, but are also loaded with easy laughs and obvious choices.

Who cares, though? Really? Why spend any more time telling you about one of Broadway's most celebrated performers when none of you have any doubt that her performance is brilliant. No. Today, ladies and munchkins, there is a different cause for which I'd like to battle. Yes, "The Green One" is not only a wonder to behold, but also a dazzling source of the show's abundance of talent and intrigue. To compliment Wicked's substantial text and relatively intricate plot as musicals go, the stunningly beautiful and incredibly artful Idina Menzel is taking on Broadway's most complicated character in a way that leaves the audience speechless, stammering, stuttering, and several other words that begin with "s." Seriously. Elphaba, more commonly recognized as the Wicked Witch of the West, is not who or what you think she is, and moments after Idina steps onto stage you'll begin to wonder just why you've had a crush on Glinda since before you'd even learned to read. A bubble? Who travels in a bubble? Honestly!

With her eyes, her voice, her hands, her very breathing, Idina examines the role, examines the character, and delicately crafts an artful performance with a power and energy that may be as close as you can get to simulating the forces at work inside a nuclear reactor. Of course, the fact that all the while she's a clammy green color from pointed hat to pointed toe makes the sensation that much more real. Her major tracks on the recording are 3, 8, and 11 and if the album were available only on vinyl, I would've already worn through those sections of the record.

When Winnie Holzman's substantive (yes-- finally!-- a new musical with a substantial book has arrived on Broadway) book merges with Stephen Schwartz's ambitious score to take you away to a land both familiar and not, the results are phenomenal. The cast also includes Carole Shelley, Joel Grey, and Norbert Leo Butz in performances that provide a solid foundation for the weighty production. While Idina's first-act finale both literally and figuratively defies gravity in a way previously only explored by the doctors who got a hold of Pamela Lee before Baywatch got a hold of her, the intermission that follows is likely to be spent coming down from a high like those only otherwise found in Requiem for a Dream. Even the logo is terrific. Go see Wicked!

Oh, wait. I think I may have gotten carried away. You see, the score is complicated, the divas quite different, and the lyrics slide into a few valleys on their way to the more prevalent peaks. It's been found, oddly, that like a certain other Stephen's best works, Wicked may require a second or third visit before it really comes together for you. That leaves us with Wonderment: 1, Perfection: 0. Idina and Kristin: Perfect 10's. And my number: Yeah right!

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