Who Turns Into The Tinman In Wicked

Okay, let's talk about Wicked. We all know it. We love it. The songs are catchy. The costumes are fabulous. And the story is, well, twisted in the best possible way.

But there's a character, a very important character, who pops up and then… changes. Dramatically. I'm talking, of course, about the fellow who eventually becomes the famously clunky, heart-seeking Tin Man. Now, the musical is brilliant at showing us how Elphie and Glinda navigate their complicated lives and friendships. It gives us a peek behind the emerald curtain, so to speak.

And then, BAM! Suddenly, there's a guy made of tin. Where did he come from? What's his backstory? The show gives us glimpses, sure. We see a character named Nikko, a monkey, who's a bit of a troublemaker. We see a grumpy guy named the Doctor Dillamond, a lion, who’s also dealing with some serious stuff. And we see a couple of other folks who are, let's say, less than thrilled about the way things are going in Oz.

But the actual transformation into the Tin Man? It feels a little… convenient, doesn't it? Like the writers were sitting around a table, sipping some sort of emerald green beverage, and said, "You know what would be cool? If someone turned into a robot made of tin!"

And maybe, just maybe, my wildly unpopular, yet I suspect, secretly shared, opinion is this: The Tin Man we think we know from The Wizard of Oz isn't necessarily the same guy we see starting out in Wicked. Hear me out.

We're so used to the idea that the Tin Man was once a man who lost his limbs piece by piece. The stories are all about him wanting a heart. And in Wicked, we have a character who is instrumental in the events that lead to… well, stuff happening. This character is involved with the manipulation of certain creatures, and a rather unfortunate incident involving axes and forests.

Let's consider the original. The man who became the Tin Man. He was a woodsman. He worked with an axe. He lost his limbs in an accident. He was replaced with tin. It's a tragic tale of one unfortunate series of events after another. He was famously cursed, or at least terribly unlucky.

Now, look at Wicked. We have a character who is very much part of the machinery of Oz’s control. He's a cog. He's part of a system. He’s not exactly a hero. He’s more of a… facilitator of bad things. And while he’s certainly not good, his journey feels a bit different from the hapless woodsman of the original.

Could it be that the character in Wicked who is instrumental in the… well, disassembly of certain individuals, is actually a separate entity entirely? A character who, through his own actions or perhaps by being caught in the crossfire of something much bigger, also ends up with a lot of tin attached to him?

Think about it. The original Tin Man was a bit of a sad sack from the get-go. He was trying to do his job, but things just kept going wrong. The character in Wicked feels more like someone who is actively participating in questionable activities, even if he’s not the mastermind.

Perhaps he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a very enthusiastic axe-wielder nearby.

It’s like this: If you have two people who both end up with a broken leg, does that mean they had the exact same accident? Not necessarily. The circumstances could be entirely different.

In Wicked, we see a character who is deeply entangled with the darker elements of Oz. He’s a pawn, yes, but a willing pawn. And when things go south, and parts start getting… replaced… perhaps it’s not a direct lineage from the woodsman we all know.

Maybe the Tin Man we love from the movie is a separate, yet equally tragic, individual. A victim of a different set of unfortunate circumstances. The musical focuses on the political and social machinations of Oz, and the origins of its inhabitants. The Tin Man, as a character who embodies the lack of something essential, fits into the themes of Wicked in his own way.

But the actual transformation? The specifics of how a sentient being becomes a collection of metal parts? While the musical hints at it, it never quite spells it out as a direct continuation of the original story. It’s a clever nod, a thematic echo, but perhaps not a literal step-by-step prequel to the woodsman’s plight.

So, the next time you’re humming along to “Defying Gravity” or “Popular,” and you see that glint of metal, just ponder for a moment. Is it the same Tin Man? Or is Oz a place where tragic accidents involving axes and enchanted forests are, sadly, a bit of a recurring theme? My money’s on the latter. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. We just haven’t had the courage to say it out loud until now.