The 2025 international tour brought Wicked to Korea with a mostly Australian cast and creative team. Having seen the Broadway production a month earlier, I was curious to compare both performances and venues.

The dragon fixture stretched across the curtain nearly as wide as the Gershwin’s, giving an impression of similar scale. Each side of the proscenium had two subtitle monitors. Mini extension stages suggested trapdoor possibilities, with the left-side extension opened once, though no real trapdoor was ever used. The show began a few minutes later than scheduled in both acts, unusual for Korea but familiar on Broadway. The audience was more international than usual, drawn by the English-language staging.

Glinda floated in on her bubble, bright and perky, with clear diction and ringing tone. Courtney Monsma’s voice sounded true to the character, but her vibrato was wide and fast, surfacing nearly every phrase. For a role that should have a clean, crystalline quality, it was too much, and in duets with Elphaba it unsettled the harmonic blend. In slower songs the tremor distracted, though “Popular” suited her well: shorter phrases left less room for vibrato to intrude, and her playful acting softened the final lines.

Sheridan Adams’s Elphaba carried Act I with stamina and a commanding “Defying Gravity.” Her tomboyish warmth and affection for Nessa and Fiyero came through, less cynical than some interpretations. In Act II, however, her softer low- and mid-range songs revealed tapering support, and vibrato crept into phrases that had been steady earlier. Her overall tone remained good, and belts were secure, but energy felt reduced. Her pronunciation of “wizard” carried a distinct Australian coloring — a strong R and lingering second syllable — a reminder that this was an international tour, not Broadway.

Simon Burke’s Wizard had a voice I truly enjoyed, singing with mellow resonance and accurate pitch, but the sound design puzzled me. His voice was consistently set too low, even in solos and duets with Elphaba, leaving him underpowered. Then, routed through the giant mask, it suddenly boomed with echo, obscuring the words entirely. His excuse to Elphaba — “Only verbally” — captured him perfectly. He is not a magician but a technician who builds just enough to make people believe. His words are true in a way: he merely orders verbally, and his troops enforce the rumors, inventing an enemy to keep people governed.

Liam Head’s Fiyero danced easily through “Dancing Through Life,” and his duet with Elphaba was well blended. Yet his voice, like Boq’s, was too weakly amplified. Scenes with Fiyero’s line ‘the other castle’ and Boq’s ‘I can leave you’ were both hard to catch. This was not a seating problem, since Glinda’s and Elphaba’s lines in the same scenes were clear. It seemed a deliberate design trade-off: the audio team prioritized clarity for the female leads, sacrificing the presence of the men.

At the Ozdust Ballroom, Elphaba entered with her witch hat and was ridiculed. She began to dance alone, and Glinda, feeling both guilty and grateful for the wand, joined her out of empathy. I was surprised, however, that in this production Glinda did not mimic Elphaba’s awkward steps. Instead, she embellished with polished, showy gestures that looked quite different from Elphaba’s unconventional dance, making it harder to sense her intent to show solidarity. I know the actress is a strong dancer, but copying was essential. Choices like this — along with the blocking in the finale, where Elphaba and Fiyero, despite supposedly escaping, were left awkwardly visible among the ensemble — weakened the illusion. Touring versions often lose trapdoor effects, but even a simple repositioning of the ensemble could have preserved believability.

Stage design otherwise followed Broadway closely but with simplifications. Elphaba’s “melting” used a well-like prop set on stage right instead of a trapdoor. Décor extended beyond the proscenium with gears and stairs, though much of it was ornamental. The monkeys never flew past the fourth wall, leaving lighting to create atmosphere.

On Broadway, I once missed dialogue because of a malfunction in Elphaba’s mic in Act I, when her voice echoed and then muted for several seconds during a duet with Glinda. Blue Square’s sound was clear throughout, but reduced volume for male voices dulled dramatic effect. Fiyero’s flippant charm lost bite, and Boq’s farewell to Nessa lacked weight. The trade-off between clarity and volume felt deliberate, but at the expense of storytelling impact.

On this second viewing, I caught more verbal ties to The Wizard of Oz, tucked into dialogue rather than spectacle. The Wizard’s ‘only verbally’ defense reminded me that in Wicked, words themselves can shape reality. Still, I look forward to licensed Korean performances, which I am sure will return someday. With the Gershwin’s 20-meter adjustable stage, no touring venue can fully reproduce the mechanics. Blue Square’s 14.9-meter stage and limited apron prevent a true trapdoor, but licensed productions adapt differently. When that happens, I will write another review — and I will revisit the Gershwin in Manhattan to hear it again, without malfunctions.