My Life in Shadow starts on a Yellow Brick Road

“The Wizard of Oz” is a holy artefact for me. But let’s start at the beginning, which is always a fine place to start. The first movie I remember seeing — mostly because it scared the bejesus out of me — was “The Wizard of Oz”. To this day, I feel that “The Wizard of Oz” has influenced me more than any other film in my life. The second would be George A. Romero's "Dawn of the Dead" but that's a horse of a different colour (hint: blood red).  

"The Wizard of Oz" is amazing, charming, beautiful, deeply archetypical; it’s a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination, and that it was a huge flop upon its release in 1939 just makes me love it more. I don’t think I’d be a writer today if I hadn’t seen “The Wizard of Oz” at a young and impressionable age. It told me it was Ok to long for worlds far beyond 125 Stanley Drive, Arkansas City, Kansas. It showed me that there was something more than the sadness of my childhood, a place somewhere over the rainbow where magic and wonder existed, and that being scared could be fun and not always a nightmare.

Dorothy Gale strikes a chord in many of us who had unhappy childhoods. Almira Gultch is that mean adult we could never escape, and when she turns into her alter-ego, the Wicked Witch of the West, she reveals her true self; the monster we always knew she was. Dorothy’s nemesis is known to children everywhere: she’s that horrible teacher, that condemning priest, that alcoholic parent, that abuser, tyrant, adult from which you had no defence and no chance at escape.

I had nightmares of “Surrender Anthony!” written across the dark clouds of my dreams.

Dorothy too, was scarred, scared, and innocent; a fragile child with song in her heart but frightened of the world around her. All she wanted was a loving home, to be surrounded by family and friends who cared for her, in a safe place where the Almira Gultch’s of the world couldn't threaten her and her little dog Toto too.

And talk about threats, what about the tornado? It’s amazing, not only for its time but for any time. I grew up in Kansas as a little boy and have vivid memories of tornados. One memory in particular is when my grandparents and I were driving across the state when all of the sudden the sky turned dark. The wind began to switch, the car to pitch, and so my Papa pulled over to the ditch. Wheeeere… Me, Papa, and Mema all hunkered down in a roadside ditch as the twister cut across a field not far from us. I remember the freight-train howling of the wind and peeking at the twister as it churned across a field ripping up the crops as it went. The tornado in “The Wizard of Oz” brings all that back to me, which is an incredible feat as the effect was achieved by puppeteering a long muslin sack while blasting it with wind fans and dirt. A simple practical effect that was totally effective and supremely awesome.

You won't find a more wicked witch than the Wicked Witch of the West. 

Simply the best. Better than all the rest.

Margaret Hamilton-- we are not worthy. The performance she gave is as iconic as Indiana Jones, Darth Vader, and Gandalf the Grey. She created one of the greatest movie villains of all time, and sets the bar to which all wicked witches must be measured (and found wanting). Her Wicked Witch of the West seethes with malevolence and cruelty. There is not a decent bone in her body but she’ll be more than happy to suck the marrow out of yours, and your little dog too! She tortures and torments, threatens, plots, and schemes. She is WICKED! 

And for all her lovely wickedness, my black heart skips a beat. I love that damn witch!

The Wizard of Oz himself taught me contradictory life lessons in understanding shades of grey. People can be manipulative frauds, but even in the biggest fraud, you might find someone capable of good deeds. OZ, the Great and Powerful, is nothing more than a flim-flam man hiding behind a curtain, but when you pull back that curtain, you find that he’s not all bad. Sure, he sent Team Dorothy on a suicide mission to fetch the Wicked Witch’s broomstick, but when his trickery is called out, he’s contrite, and he shows wisdom and empathy to the team giving them what they think they need: a heart for the Tin Man, a brain for the Scarecrow, a Medal of Courage for the Lion, and the promise of a trip home for Dorothy and Toto. That his gifts are things they already had tell us that he is still a fraud, but a kind and perceptive one. The Wizard also teaches us to have faith in ourselves for the solutions we seek often come from within.

There’s so much more I love about “The Wizard of Oz”… the music… the actors… the costumes… the jump to technicolor… the sets… the flying monkeys… the apple trees… the painted backdrops… the poppy field… this film is a movie lover’s delight.

Many moons ago, I went on a date to see a fully restored version of “The Wizard of Oz” at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas. It was our second date and we were still in the ‘getting to know you’ stage. Once again, I sat there mesmerised at how much I loved every frame of this film. When it was over, I was brimming with enthusiasm and eager to profess my adoration for this cinema classic, but on our way out of the theatre, my date said to me, “Not much different than I remember it on television. It looked OK but you really have to be a kid to enjoy it.”

My heart sunk. The magic was over. Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway) that woman is not my wife.

And then…

The wind began to switch, the house to pitch, 

and suddenly the hinges started to unhitch.

Just then the witch, to satisfy an itch, 

went flying on her broomstick thumbing for a hitch.

Aaaaand oooooh what happen’d then was rich!

©AnthonyRoberts, 2025

ddd