It has been one of the most successful marketing efforts in Hollywood history, dating back to the Super Bowl in February.

And Wicked’s two primary performers have definitely performed their parts, gushing, weeping, and crying on cue to promote a film that already appears to be a holiday-season blockbuster.

Wicked, a Broadway production based on the 1939 classic The Wizard of Oz, emphasizes female empowerment and the importance of not judging others based on their appearance, particularly their skin color. Especially if it’s green.

Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, who portray Glinda (the Good Witch of the South) and Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West), frequently appeared together on the accompanying press tour, holding hands affectionately and repeating each other’s lines.

In some cases, just a shared gaze during an interview has been enough to cause tears to pour.

They agree that making the highly anticipated film has been an incredible experience.

Hope the legendary film that started it all does too.

The Wizard of Oz, known for its pioneering use of technicolor, was the most costly film ever made when it was released—and, according to the US Library of Congress, the most-seen film of all time.

But, like the magician, who was later shown to be an average man hidden behind a curtain and feverishly twisting levers, the film’s production was far from magical.

In fact, The Wizard of Oz’s production failures and disputes were so infamous that some have mocked the green-hued Wicked Witch of the West as having cursed the film—until Dorothy splashed her with a bucket of water, causing her to dissolve.

Judy Garland, a teenager for whom filming the film meant anything other than sexual emancipation, played Dorothy memorably.

Molested by both studio managers and the Munchkins—Oz locals—and forced to embrace an unpleasant program to lose weight and seem younger, her already fragile mental health deteriorated as she plummeted into drug and alcohol addiction.

Her tragically premature death at the age of 47, caused by an alleged accidental overdose of barbiturates while in London in 1969, is largely attributed to the film’s deadly legacy.

Garland signed with the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) production company at the age of 13, but her overbearing mother began giving her medications for energy and to help her sleep when she was only ten.

That pernicious tendency worsened once she fell into the hands of a vicious, slave-driving Hollywood business.

MGM executives were always concerned about her weight and would restrict her food, leaving her constantly hungry.

A studio executive remarked to her, “You appear to have a deformed back.” We adore you, but you’re so obese you look like a monster.”

Another person described her as a “fat little pig with pigtails.”

MGM’s cruel treatment left Garland with a lifelong worry about her body. She began visiting psychiatrists at the age of 18.

As has happened to many other young stars, the studio also pushed narcotics on the adolescent, encouraging her to take amphetamines, sometimes known as ‘pep pills,’ to keep her slender and lively throughout a demanding filming schedule. MGM reportedly offered Garland sleeping drugs to help her relax at night.

‘Speed her up, slow her down,’ said a studio source, claiming Garland was ‘run like a clock.’.

Her casting as Dorothy, a 12-year-old girl, intensified the studio’s concerns about her appearance. The studio told Garland, who was 16 when she received the role and a year older by the time production ended, that she needed to shed 12 pounds.

Aside from a tight diet of chicken soup, black coffee, 80 (appetite-suppressing) cigarettes per day, diet pills, and more amphetamines, Garland was forced to wear a weird corset on set that not only pulled in her stomach but also kept her breasts down.

Garland claimed—probably not seriously—that iron made up the device.

Around the time she began filming the film, studio executives began assaulting the actress, grabbing her, and constantly proposing sex.

Louis Mayer, the president of MGM, often expressed his belief in her heartfelt singing by placing his hand on the teenager’s left breast.

‘I frequently thought I was fortunate that I didn’t sing with another part of my body,’ Garland later remembered.

Gerald Clarke, Garland’s biographer, wrote that having sex with the female assistants was considered a benefit of power, and few ladies avoided the demands of Mayer and his underlings.

Victor Fleming, one of five directors hired to make the film during five months of production, once struck Garland in the face when she refused to stop smiling while filming a scene. He, at least, was embarrassed by his actions and instructed the crew to slap him in the face in response, only for Garland to kiss him instead.

The little actors hired to represent the munchkins couldn’t have slapped her face, but they could, and apparently did, put their hands up her skirt.

According to Garland, the adult thespians, who were mostly dwarfs, were far from the charming and innocent ‘Ozians’ depicted on film.

‘They would make Judy’s life unpleasant on stage by placing their hands beneath her clothes,’ writes her ex-husband Sid Luft in a 2017 postmortem book. ‘The males were 40 years or older. Given their small size, they believed they could get away with anything.

Despite claims that they attacked Garland, the Munchkin performers have gained renown over the years for their wild conduct.

Producer Mervyn LeRoy, for instance, described how, once filming was complete, “they had orgies in the hotel, and we had to have police on about every floor.”

In 1967, Garland remembered them as “little drunks.” Every night, the police would shatter them and catch them in butterfly nets.

She stated that she once consented to go on a date with one of them but took her mother as a chaperone.

‘Fair enough, two broads for the price of one,’ said the munchkin.

Bert Lahr, who played the Cowardly Lion, confirmed the dark tales, claiming, “Many munchkins made their living by panhandling, pimping, and whoring.” Midgets wielded blades and frequently harbored feelings for bigger persons.

Someone reported rescuing a German munchkin named The Count from a toilet bowl.

“We were all looking for him,” says Ray Bolger, who portrayed Scarecrow. Apparently, he consumed his meal, sat on the stool, fell in, and was unable to get out. There he was, his head and legs sticking up.

Not only did the film harm Garland, but it also inflicted tangible wounds on other female actors.

The Wicked Witch of the West, for example, makes an unforgettable on-screen appearance among billowing scarlet smoke and flames. However, the sequence went tragically wrong for both Margaret Hamilton, who played the witch, and Betty Danko, her stunt double.

One day, a member of the film team fell through a trap door onto Danko, who was waiting to enter below, injuring her shoulder.

As a result, Hamilton had to complete the feat herself, departing in the same way Danko had arrived: in an explosion of fire and smoke.

However, the flames struck too quickly, and Hamilton, who was wearing combustible copper-based green make-up, caught fire, resulting in second- and third-degree burns.

She suffered severe damage to the area around her right eye, completely burning off the eyelid and brow.

Hamilton had to wear green gloves instead of makeup when she returned to work six weeks later due to the exposed nerves in one burnt hand.

Afterward, the broomstick-riding Wicked Witch forces Danko, a hapless stuntwoman, to film another iconic scene in which she writes, “Surrender Dorothy,” in the sky with smoke.

They installed a special pipe beneath the room for the smoke, but it burst, seriously burning Danko’s inner thighs and necessitating a hysterectomy.

They were not the only ones hurt.

After their own flying incidents, in which the cables carrying them broke and sent them falling to the studio floor, two of the actors who played the villainous winged monkeys ended up hospitalized.

The set’s rudimentary working conditions and technology would cause the health and safety industry to have a collective heart attack.

Just nine days into production, Buddy Ebsen, who played the Tin Man, fell ill and required hospitalization.

To get the gleaming skin impression, the team painted his face white before dusting it with genuine aluminum dust. Each time Ebsen applied or touched up his makeup, he inhaled harmful small granules of metal that coated the interior of his lungs and prevented oxygen from reaching his blood.

Comic Jack Haley, who only makes brief appearances in the final film, had to replace the actor due to his extreme illness.

The filmmakers replied by combining the aluminum dust with white paint to create a paste that Haley would not inhale. However, the paste eventually entered his eye, prompting a rushed hospital visit for him.

Scientists used asbestos, then known to be harmful, to create the snow that falls on Dorothy and her friends after they fall asleep in a poppy field.

While there was no confirmed relation to the filming, Bert Lahr (the lion) and Ray Bolger (the Scarecrow) died of cancer.

The wardrobe department has contributed to the anguish on site.

Many cast members, particularly the Wicked Witch’s guards and flying monkeys, had to wear thick makeup and unwieldy costumes.

Temperatures on the Hollywood set reached more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit because of the strong lights used in the early Technicolor process, causing some performers to faint. They were carried out.

Lahr had to put the Cowardly Lion’s costume in an industrial dryer every night due to excessive sweating from the actual lion skin.

Bolger said the plastic scarecrow mask he had to wear caused facial scars.

However, few cast members escaped unhurt. Even Terry, a Cairn terrier representing Dorothy’s dog, injured his foot when one of the witch’s soldiers stepped on it. A canine counterpart temporarily replaced him.

Terry may have found little solace in the fact that he reportedly received a higher salary for his role in the movie than the Munchkins.

The skies may well be blue someplace beyond the rainbow, as Dorothy so wonderfully sings, and our love affair with The Wizard of Oz shows no signs of ending anytime soon. However, as today’s movie spin-off, Wicked, puts it, “You’re not receiving the complete story!”