I wrote this wayyyyyy back when Myspace was the thing! This is for all the Wizard of Oz fans out there, who, like me, love a little humor here and there. Enjoy.
The (wonderful?) Wizard of Oz
The Wizard of Oz is a great movie. I love it, you love it. Everyone in the world loves it. But there are a few thoughts I’ve always had about this beloved musical.
For one, Dorothy is such a pest! What a spoiled little brat. Her Aunt and Uncle are obviously trying to do something, and she bursts in, not a care for anyone else’s problems, screaming about her own. On top of it all, they’re trying to count! Ever been trying to count and someone comes in and flaps and flaps until you can’t remember why you were counting in the first place? There, then you feel their pain.
When she falls into the pig pen, she yells and yells. Why is she so afraid? Are the piggies going to mistake her for slop and eat her? Bert Lahr is freaked out, too. Is there something incredibly dangerous about pigs that I don’t know about?
Then, she runs away. It’s not her Aunt and Uncle’s fault that she had to give Toto away, why should they be punished? In fact, I do remember Aunt Em having a few choice words with that Almira. But no thanks is given! She still runs away, since she didn’t get her way. Well, I guess the couple is better off without her, all she does is eat their food anyway.
When she runs away and meets Professor Marvel, Toto eats a hotdog off his fork. Dorothy then says these words: “We haven’t been asked, yet.” Yet. So she thought he would ask her to eat his dinner, eh? See? She assumes everyone is going to feed her and take care of her. Rude, Rude! If I were Professor Marvel, I’d say I wasn’t going to ask in the first place then kick her out. But he’s too nice for that.
Another peculiar thing is that she is not very smart. Perhaps when she got knocked out, some of her brains fell out. I only say this because of the following: When Glinda asks if she brought her broomstick, Dorothy replies, “No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” I always wondered why she didn’t go into the house and get one? Maybe Aunt Em was going to get one this very morning, but the storm blew up before she got going. Or maybe Dorothy should have asked for a brain, like the scarecrow. Either way, there most likely was a broom of some sort in the house crying, “You didn’t forget me, idiot, I”m behind the mop!”
Nevertheless, she skips merrily off with her shiny new foot covers. She eventually meets the scarecrow, (my favorite, of course).
When she meets him, he cleverly ropes her into getting him off the pole. Why is she so trusting, anyway? Didn’t Aunt Em ever tell her never to talk to strangers, scarecrow or no? The whole thing is quite suspicious to me, that’s all. Then, when he falls, hay pops out of him. This isn’t to be overlooked by the skilled viewer, for listen! He says “There goes some of me again.” Again? She goes on to say, “Does it hurt?” And he replies with another very suspicious line. “No, I just keep picking it up and putting it back in again.” This indicates that he’s been off his pole before. How, though? Perhaps another little girl came along, and he had her for breakfast. Or maybe he killed her and hid her body in the cornfield. You see? Dorothy doesn’t know this scarecrow from Adam. How does she know he’s not a serial killer?
So, this all goes unnoticed to Dorothy as they go along, Dorothy swinging her basket high up, telling the audience that another lie is in place: There is nothing whatsoever in that basket. Everything would have fallen out, what, with her flailing about like a deranged flying monkey. I was very disappointed at this, for I imagined lots of little candy bars and lollipops to sustain her for the trip. But, alas, there were no dum dums or baby ruths to be had. Nothing but air.
Next, they meet the tinman. Now, I know why there was a man made out of tin, from reading the books. But the general audience doesn’t. They are left wondering why in the world was there a man made out of tin in the first place. A scarecrow, they’d understand, but a tin woodsman?
He for sure is the gayest one. He has the happiest song, the happiest dance. We even get to hear snow white’s voice, once again. But, maybe someone sent the rain to rust him for a reason, ever thought of that little Dot? This goes back once again to ‘never speak to strangers.’ A strange man who is made out of tin and is holding none other than an axe (a murder weapon if I ever saw one) and she wants to revive him. No, I say! Leave that odd metalman alone!
But, once again, that little bubble above her head of Aunt Em telling her never to speak to strangers is popped, and on she goes.
It really is a wonder how she got to the forest alive, where the lion lives. The lion should have eaten Dorothy up right then and there. Such disobedient children should not be allowed to roam around, helping convicts escape. She seems innocent, but really she’s evil.
Yes, I really think the witch had the best idea. For one, what right had she to those shoes, after all? She kills someone and then steals her shoes. Is this the right thing a little girl should be doing?
The witch was a moron, don’t get me wrong. She had her own little idiocy going on. In order to get those slippers, she could have done a number of things. She could have stabbed her, drowned her, or, the old favorite, dropped a house on her. Instead, she locks her in a room and turns an hourglass over. She gives her an hour to think of a way to escape! Dorothy is so frightened, she doesn’t know what to do. The sand is running out, and if the sand runs out…. wait… what? What exactly does she think will happen when the sand runs out? Will she spontaneously combust, bursting into flames and leaving nothing but the empty basket, a pesky dog, and little ruby slippers?
Suddenly her three friends burst in and get her out of the combustible room. Phew, safe. If only she hadn’t hugged and kissed everyone, maybe she would have gotten out quicker. But no, she had to waste time. But then again, where in the world did they think they were going? They were supposed to be retrieving the broom, not running away like a cat being chased by a gorilla. Had they forgotten their mission already?
So, of course, a chase ensues, as in all good adventure movies of that era. There are various things that happen, a fixture falls from the ceiling, an hourglass explodes, and finally, the scarecrow is getting what he deserves. The witch lights him on fire. He screams like a girl for a moment, and Dorothy finds a bucket. She doesn’t know what’s in it, mind you. It could have been cooking grease for all she knew. But, no, luckily for Mister Scare, and unfortunately for Miss West, it was water.
Ah, but listen to this! Just before Dorothy throws the water, the witch says, “Don’t throw that water!” My thought is, if she saw it coming, why did she not move out of the way? There can be no answer, for the witch has sizzled away. She is no more, she rests in peace. If you hadn’t nailed him to the perch, he’d be pushing up the daisies! Ahem, sorry, that was a different movie. Where was I? Ah, yes. The witch sizzled way, sadly. I really feel for her, because all she wanted was a pair of slippers that an evil child stole from her sister.
Dorothy awakes to find everyone from that dreary Kansas farm hovering over her. She then screams a little more saying that she was over the rainbow, and doesn’t anyone believe her. Sure, Dotty, sure we do. But we all know better.
After all, if the story was true, how did the little farmhouse get back to its original spot?
There’s no place like home!!