Under the glittering chandeliers of Lincoln Center’s David Geffen Hall, where the ghosts of Broadway legends seem to linger in every velvet seat, the curtain rose on a night that felt less like a premiere and more like a heartfelt homecoming. On November 17, 2025, the red carpet for Wicked: For Good—the spellbinding sequel to Universal’s blockbuster musical adaptation—unfolded not with the usual cacophony of flashing bulbs and rehearsed soundbites, but with a quiet, profound tenderness that captured the essence of the film’s witches themselves. Ariana Grande, the pop enchantress turned Glinda the Good, emerged as the ultimate pillar of solidarity, linking arms with her co-star Cynthia Erivo, whose Elphaba had been silenced by illness mere hours before. As the duo stepped forward hand-in-hand, Grande’s protective gesture—”I’m not letting her speak. She has to rest her voice!”—drew gasps and cheers from the crowd, a moment of raw vulnerability amid the glamour that transformed the evening into a testament to friendship forged in the fires of fame. With Erivo’s hoarse whispers adding poignant weight to their brief livestream appearance, and a constellation of stars orbiting their glow, this premiere wasn’t just the capstone of a grueling global tour; it was a full-circle celebration of Wicked‘s origins, proving that in the land of Oz, loyalty is the most powerful magic of all.

The journey to this emerald-lit evening had been anything but a yellow brick road strewn with roses. Wicked: For Good, helmed by visionary director Jon M. Chu and penned by Winnie Holzman with music by Stephen Schwartz, picks up where 2024’s Wicked left off, plunging audiences deeper into the fractured sisterhood of Elphaba and Glinda. The first film, a $746 million phenomenon that snagged 10 Oscar nods including acting bids for Grande and Erivo, reimagined the Broadway juggernaut—running since 2003 at the Gershwin Theatre—as a lush, live-action spectacle blending soaring anthems like “Defying Gravity” with groundbreaking VFX that turned Shiz University into a verdant wonder. Critics hailed it as a “triumph of theatricality,” with Erivo’s powerhouse vocals channeling Idina Menzel’s green-skinned trailblazer and Grande’s bubbly precision evoking Kristin Chenoweth’s sparkle. But success came at a cost: a promotional odyssey spanning continents, from London’s West End echoes to Sydney’s harbor-side fan frenzies, left the stars battered by jet lag, mechanical mishaps, and even physical threats.

For Erivo, the toll peaked just days before the NYC finale. The British powerhouse, whose Broadway triumphs in The Color Purple and Harriet had already marked her as a force of nature, arrived in the city that birthed Wicked on stage with a voice reduced to a rasp—lost to laryngitis after weeks of belting ballads in 14 time zones. Universal’s pre-event alert was terse: no interviews for the leads, a decision Grande embraced with fierce loyalty, skipping her solo spots to stand sentinel. Their bond, first sparked during 2022’s chemistry reads where they bonded over shared vocal coaching and late-night script dives, has been the sequel’s secret sauce. “Cynthia’s my safe space,” Grande confided in a pre-tour Variety chat, recounting how Erivo’s impromptu Elphaba impressions during table reads dissolved set tensions into giggles. Erivo, in turn, has credited Grande’s “effervescent empathy” for pulling her through doubts, especially after a viral Singapore premiere incident on November 13 where a fan breached barriers to grab Grande—Erivo’s swift shove earning her the moniker “Wicked Warrior” on TikTok. “We’ve come through some shit,” Erivo rasped at a Los Angeles screening days prior, her words a weary echo of the tour’s tempests.

Yet, amid the exhaustion, the premiere pulsed with unyielding joy—a kaleidoscope of pink and emerald that honored Wicked‘s dual heroines. Grande, ever the fashion alchemist, conjured Glinda’s ethereal whimsy in a custom Schiaparelli Haute Couture gown: a cloud-like confection of ivory tulle embroidered with crystal bubbles, its high neckline and voluminous skirt evoking the Good Witch’s floating chariot. Her signature ponytail, now a platinum cascade adorned with diamond pins shaped like wand tips, bobbed like a beacon as she navigated the carpet, waving to fans clad in DIY capes and green face paint. “It’s so full circle to be in New York City where the Gershwin is, where Wicked is, and to be celebrating tonight together,” she beamed to livestream host Justin Sylvester, her voice a melodic shield for her co-star. Erivo, defying her vocal chains, shone in a Balenciaga masterpiece: a sleek, otherworldly sheath of emerald velvet slashed with asymmetrical black leather accents, its high collar framing her signature braided updo like a crown of thorns for the misunderstood witch. A subtle face mask—worn intermittently to preserve her throat—added an air of defiant mystique, transforming vulnerability into vogue.

Their joint moment on the official stream was pure poetry: hand-in-hand before a backdrop of swirling Ozian clouds, Grande fielded questions with her trademark warmth while Erivo nodded, her eyes—rimmed in kohl to mirror Elphaba’s fierce gaze—conveying volumes. When Erivo leaned in for a whisper, Grande cupped her ear with a giggle, the exchange a microcosm of their on-screen sorcery. “Ending our promo tour where it all started means a lot to her,” Grande relayed, squeezing Erivo’s hand as the crowd erupted. It was a rare glimpse behind the emerald curtain, humanizing the icons who’d spent months as untouchable divas. Fans, packed along Columbus Avenue in a sea of green face paint and bubble wands, chanted “Elphaba! Glinda!”—their screams peaking as the duo waved from a balcony, a nod to the Gershwin’s stage door traditions. One young attendee, dressed as a mini-Nessarose, handed Erivo a handmade broomstick adorned with “Rest Your Voice, Witch Queen” in glitter— a token that left the actress misty-eyed, her silent thumbs-up speaking louder than spells.

The star power didn’t stop at the witches; the carpet was a veritable coven of A-listers, each arrival a thread in Wicked‘s ever-expanding tapestry. Jonathan Bailey, the Bridgerton heartthrob stepping into Fiyero’s flashy boots, cut a dashing figure in a velvet emerald tuxedo by Tom Ford, its satin lapels embroidered with subtle lion motifs—a cheeky wink to the Winkie prince’s Scarecrow destiny. “This role’s been my yellow brick road,” Bailey quipped to E! News, fresh off Fellow Travelers‘ awards buzz. Jeff Goldblum, the eccentric Wizard whose bombastic flair has already spawned meme gold, channeled his inner humbug in a pinstriped suit with a towering top hat, gold pocket watch dangling like a talisman. “I’m not a politician, but if I were, I’d vote for more sequels,” he drawled, his jazz-scat rendition of “Popular” drawing laughs from passersby. Michelle Yeoh, the Oscar-winning Madame Morrible, exuded icy elegance in a structured black gown by Valentino, its corseted bodice spiked with emerald crystals— a fitting armor for the scheming headmistress. “Power corrupts, but couture redeems,” she purred, her presence a bridge from Everything Everywhere All at Once‘s multiverse to Oz’s magic.

Ethan Slater, reprising his Boq with boyish charm, arrived arm-in-arm with Grande—his SpongeBob pipes now tuned for Munchkinland melancholy—in a tailored navy suit accented with subtle green piping, a subtle shoutout to his ill-fated romance with Nessarose. Marissa Bode, the breakout as the wheelchair-bound witch, rolled up in a custom Rodarte frock of layered organza petals in blush and ivory, her radiant smile belying the character’s tragic arc. “Nessarose isn’t defined by her chair; she’s defined by her heart,” Bode shared with People, her words a rallying cry for representation. Broadway alums dotted the lineup too: Ben Platt and Noah Galvin, fresh from Parade‘s Tony sweep, posed in coordinated black-and-emerald ensembles, while Idina Menzel herself made a surprise cameo in a flowing caftan, enveloping Erivo in a hug that sparked “full-circle” chants. Even off-Broadway darlings like Lesli Margherita (as a sassy Madame Morrible understudy) and McCaul Lombardi (Fiyero’s stunt double) mingled, turning the carpet into a reunion of the realm’s unsung enchanters.

The atmosphere crackled with electric nostalgia, a balm after the tour’s bruises. From São Paulo’s mechanical meltdown that sidelined Grande on November 4 to the Singapore scuffle where Erivo played bodyguard, the duo’s odyssey had tested their mettle. Yet here, in the city of eight shows a week, resilience reigned. Chu, the director whose Crazy Rich Asians flair infused Oz with multicultural vibrancy, beamed from a emerald-lapel tux, toasting the cast with non-alcoholic “bubble-ade” flutes. “This is where dreams are born,” he told Deadline, eyes on the Gershwin’s distant glow. The screening itself, in Geffen Hall’s opulent auditorium, drew a post-film standing ovation that thundered like applause from the Great White Way—tears streaming as Erivo and Grande shared a silent embrace during the credits’ swell of “For Good,” Schwartz’s poignant duet now etched in cinematic lore.

Social media, that modern Oracle of Oz, amplified the magic into a viral vortex. Within hours, #WickedNYCPremiere trended with 3.2 million posts, clips of Grande’s voice-guardian quip racking 15 million TikTok views. Fan edits mashed their hand-hold with “For Good” lyrics—”Because I knew you, I have been changed”—while X threads dissected Erivo’s masked elegance as “Elphaba’s defiant glamour.” Memes proliferated: a photoshopped Grande as a throat-lozenge-toting Glinda, captioned “Popular remedy for witchy woes.” Celebrities chimed in—Taylor Swift, a Wicked superfan, posted a green-heart emoji string from her tour bus, while Lizzo live-tweeted “Queens protecting queens! 💚✨.” The outpouring underscored Wicked‘s cultural stranglehold: 20 years on stage, now a duology poised for $2 billion combined, its themes of otherness and alliance resonating amid 2025’s divides.

As the night wound down with after-parties at The Polo Bar—where Goldblum held court with scat improv and Bailey led an impromptu “Dancing Through Life” conga—the premiere lingered like a spell half-cast. For Grande and Erivo, it’s the exhale before the whirlwind: For Good hits theaters November 21, with new Schwartz originals like Erivo’s soaring “No Place Like Home” and Grande’s bubbly “The Girl in the Bubble” primed for chart conquests. Their sisterhood, spotlighted in this hoarse-hued harmony, mirrors Elphaba and Glinda’s: tested by tempests, triumphant in tandem. In a town that chews up vulnerability, their hand-in-hand stand was revolutionary—a reminder that true power isn’t in the wand, but in the whisper of unwavering support. As the limo lights faded into Manhattan’s neon, one truth hovered: they’ve changed each other, for good. And in doing so, they’ve bewitched us all.