There's a moment in the new movie, Wicked: For Good, when Elphaba, the so-called Wicked Witch, stops defending herself to a world that has misunderstood her and embraces her own power. Cynthia Erivo, who plays Elphaba, sees a connection between her character's trajectory and her own.
"There were so many sort of real parallels — the relationship with her father, the relationship to being in spaces that don't really include you," Erivo says. "The feelings you see in the movie are very real feelings."
Erivo grew up in London as the child of Nigerian immigrants. From an early age, it was evident that she had a powerful singing voice. She attended the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, but felt like an outsider.
"It was a tough experience to be there. I just didn't think I fit," she says. "And I think there was sort of a lack of wanting to understand where I was coming from or who I was as a person."
Erivo first broke through on Broadway in The Color Purple, winning a Tony Award for her portrayal of Celie. She went on to earn an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of Harriet Tubman, and later played Aretha Franklin in Genius Aretha.
In Wicked: For Good, Erivo reprises her role as Elphaba, alongside Ariana Grande as Glinda, in this final chapter of the Wicked story. Both Wicked movies were filmed at the same time, which proved challenging at times.
"There were days where, luckily, you would sort of know where the character was at this point [in the story]," Erivo says. "But there were some times where you're sort of guessing really, because you hadn't shot a certain scene, you're just sort of assuming that the scene is gonna feel this way."
Erivo also has a new memoir, Simply More: A Book for Anyone who Has Been Told They're Too Much, which details her childhood in South London and her path to the stage.
Interview highlights
On her physical training for Wicked
I'd [swim] laps, then sing and then I'd run. ... It's the idea that if I'm doing something that's strenuous and I can sing it whilst I'm doing the thing that's strenuous, when I'm standing still, it'll just be there. I won't actually have to work that hard for it to be there. ... Once your body has it in it, it just sort of lives with you. And so that's what I wanted for myself.
On getting into character through perfume
I started doing this years and years ago. The first time I did it, I think I did with Harriet [Tubman] and hers was, like, cedarwood and lavender, I think it was, but like essence with a base oil, not a perfume, because I wanted it to feel like something she could find, that she could discover, make, as opposed to something you could just buy in a store and spray on oneself. Because of the time, because of who she was, I wanted it to feel like it was of the Earth. And then I realized how powerful it was for me. And so I kept doing it with my characters. ...
So Elphaba, who's younger, I sort of messed around with big florals, like really deep florals. So tuberose, rose, lilies and then I mixed it with a tobacco oud. It was a scent called Witchy Woo. When I found it, I thought, there's no way this is going to work. It will be way too on the nose. … I was staying at a Soho Farmhouse in the UK and they have this little sort of gift shop and in the back they have a few perfumes … I sprayed some on my hand and immediately I wasn't convinced, but you know how perfume changes? … My body is like, no, this is a really good scent. There was a reason it was there for you, go back for it.
On her decision to cut, and then shave, her hair
It started a long time ago, just as I was coming out of drama school. I just knew that I wanted something different. Around that time, everyone who was auditioning, girls who were auditioning wanted long hair and a particular kind of aesthetic, and I sort of repelled against the idea because I didn't want any distractions. I don't know what gave me the idea, what gave [me] the wherewithal to think, I want to lessen the distraction. I want them to just see my face. I want, when I walk in, for them to see a canvas that can transform. A vessel. That what you see is really me, and I can change into the character in front of your very eyes.
After I left drama school, I cut my hair. I went to get a haircut and the hairdresser was very, very scared to cut it, because my hair was quite long. It came down past my shoulders. … If you're African, often you cut your hair if you lose someone. So there's an understanding of loss. You know that the old adage when a woman cuts her hair or changes her hairstyle, a life shift has happened. That is very true of the Nigerian tradition. And so, for me, I felt like I went for my own life shift. ... It was sort of leaving [drama school] behind and taking from it what I needed and letting go of whatever else I didn't. And when I cut my hair, I felt strangely like myself. I've felt like I've been steadily moving towards cutting it off completely, and Wicked was the moment when I took it off completely.
On regretting a time she sang backstage, allowing another actor to lip-sync to her voice
It's one of those moments that I've started to learn to forgive myself for because ... previously I've felt so mad at myself. So I guess there's a part of me that's a little bit ashamed that I would sort of give up my voice in that way. But it's also why I'm vehemently protective of the way I use my voice. I do not say yes to everything at all. It has to mean something for me to sing, and it has to make sense. I will never give my voice to someone like that again, because it felt like someone removing a gift that was meant for me and giving it to someone else. It just felt, in the moment, really awful, and I remember feeling really wrong. It felt wrong.
On not growing up with her father, and not having a relationship with him as an adult
I think I'm in a real place of acceptance, and a strange apathy as well. I don't wish him harm, but it's not like I'm waiting for some grand resolution. I'm sort of OK with it being exactly what it is. I have no desire to start a relationship. I have no desire to mend a relationship. But it doesn't really occupy my thoughts.
If the point of doing the things you love or the point of doing a thing that you're good at is to make someone care about you, is to prove that you are meant to be loved, is to prove that you are worthy of being loved, it doesn't sustain. Because really and truly, the most important love is that of yourself. It has to come from you first.
Ann Marie Baldonado and Susan Nyakundi produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.
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