At: Ford Center/Oriental Theatre

Phone: ( 312 ) 902-1400; $25-$85

Runs through: open run

Imagine a nation that used fear-mongering to cow its people and cynically exploited differences in color or race to demonize minorities. Imagine a government that used national calamity to impinge upon citizen rights, and portrayed opponents of repression as evil and treacherous. Imagine a land of shrinking diversity and expanding intolerance that cited the happiness of the majority as justification for its policies.

That will sound like innumerable nations throughout history from Ancient Egypt to ... well, you fill in the blank. Minority victims might be Jews, Negroes, Native Americans, gays or talking animals and Munchkins, for certainly it's the Land of Oz as realized in Wicked, the most political show on Broadway and, arguably, the most political musical since The Cradle Will Rock. Indirect references to the United States—the Wizard, remember, is from Kansas—reveal the strong stand of the authors and producers.

I've neither read Wicked, the book, nor seen the show previously, choosing to wait for the much-anticipated debut of the permanent Chicago company. It was worth the wait. This fine, strong troupe—if noticeably on the young side ( especially among the chorus ) —gives a revved-up performance in a physically lavish production that looks like the several million dollars it is. From vaguely Dickensian costumes, to Emerald City's Art Deco glitter, to flying monkeys and soaring witches, Wicked has the razzle-dazzle synonymous with a big Broadway show.

Alto Ana Gasteyer and mezzo Kate Reinders are twin power houses with great pipes as Elphaba and Glinda, the green and white witches respectively. Big-boned, athletic Ana and petite, graceful Kate offer striking physical contrast, too. Hesitant friends at first, they remain each other's emotional mirror even after becoming reluctant romantic and political rivals.

The house roared its approval of local favorites Rondi Reed as Madame Morrible and Gene Weygandt as the Wizard. In some ways Morrible is pivotal, morphing from a benign Dumbledoor type into the Big Lie architect. Wicked isn't about Morrible, so her volte-face isn't explained—power? recognition? sex with His Ozness?—but that's not regally bewigged Reed's fault.

Stephen Schwartz's lyrics are sharp but his music is too repetitively anthem-like to be distinctive. Big numbers such as 'Defying Gravity' ( Elphaba's Act I closer ) and 'For Good,' the Elphaba-Glinda duet, have been ballyhooed enough to stand out, although 'I'm Not That Girl' or 'No Good Deed' are just as big. The few truly charming numbers are typical Broadway stuff, such as Glinda's strut, 'Popular,' and the Wizard's song-and-dance, 'Wonderful'. Still, the music is the physical force driving a show that short-changes dance in favor of musical staging ( by Wayne Cilento ) .

Fans of Gregory Maguire's novel may criticize stage adapter Winnie Holzman's changes. She sends Elphaba and Fiyero into a bittersweet sunset together, and establishes references to the familiar Wizard of Oz film not in the original.

But most, like me, will find Wicked well worth the ticket price; a whomping good show that puts politics front-and-center wrapped up in a big entertainment package.