‘Glicked’ Is So Much Better Than ‘Barbenheimer’: How to Do It Right

The fabled “Glicked” weekend has finally arrived—or “Wickediator” or “Gladiacked,” depending on who you ask.

Last year, “Barbenheimer” effectively merged two blockbusters, Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer, into one social media frenzy. Patrons in pink rushed their local theater for Mattel-mania, before returning hours later in their drab black getups to ponder the birth of nuclear warfare. The duo grossed $511 million at the box office in just one weekend.

While both Wicked and Gladiator II are set to pull massive sums at the box office, their fused product is noticeably less loud. Fan edits exist, but they’re not racking up the millions of likes that “Barbenheimer” memes accrued. Etsy sellers went gangbusters on “Barbenheimer” merch; a search for “Glicked” brings up nothing at all.

But, after spending my Friday night testing out the double feature, I found my “Glicked” experience to far surpass the “Barbenheimer” phenomenon.

The order you watch these movies matters. I embraced a “dinner before dessert” model, rounding up a gaggle of friends for a 4 pm Gladiator II before an 8:45 pm Wicked. It was the right choice. While thrilling, Gladiator II is bloated with endless battles and duels. Put first, Gladiator II remains more titillating than taxing. Meanwhile, Wicked is naturally joyous with its lush scenery and musical numbers, making it the perfect after dinner pick-me-up.

For Gladiator II, it’s worth shilling out the extra few bucks for an IMAX ticket. Watching flaming cannonballs fly across the massive screen (or getting the highest definition of Paul Mescal’s muscle contours) makes the added fee worth it. For Wicked, a standard ticket works fine. Jonathan Bailey’s charisma oozes out of any screen size.

My movie-going routine is simple: Buy a bucket-sized cup to fill with cherry vanilla Diet Coke from the freestyle machines, and be seated and sipping before Maria Menuounos bids adieu in the previews. That also means I awkwardly creep out of almost every theater for a mid-movie pee break. For Gladiator II, it’s best to dip out after the Colosseum’s water-bound fight. Wicked is harder; you can scoot out right after “I’m Not That Girl,” but be quick not to miss “One Short Day.”

Ironically, the bathroom lines were one of the most telling signals that “Glicked” had lost its crossover potential. “Barbenheimer” was infamous for crossing the gender divide. Reluctant boyfriends laughed through Barbie, and curious girlfriends enjoyed the film from bro-king Nolan. But the bathroom lines were remarkably gendered on opening Friday. After Gladiator II, the men’s line wrapped around through the lobby, while the women’s line was empty. After Wicked, the men’s room was vacant minus me and a couple of other gay men.

Thematically, Wicked and Gladiator II had significant crossover. Both focus on the fight against tyranny—and tricked the audience with just who the tyrant was. They also both had CGI animals, though Fiyero’s cub rescue is better edited than the Colosseum’s rhinos and apes. Gladiator II has a bust fashioned after Paul Mescal’s face; Wicked has a wall sculpture shaped for Jeff Goldblum.

They’re also tied together by the endless merch spinoffs. We ogled at the Elphaba and Glinda soda cups, before learning that they were a harrowing $25. Staring at my all-too-unused Renaissance and Eras Tour cups at home, I decided against it. I also considered a Wicked or Gladiator II popcorn bucket, but wondered exactly what I’d use it for other than popcorn. Memo to AMC: Invest in other types of merch! I would’ve bought a Wicked tee with some cheesy lyric from “Defying Gravity” (that I am, in fact, holding space for) in a heartbeat.

These tie-ins not only made “Glicked” a joyous theater-going experience—they also made it better than “Barbenheimer.” Barbie and Oppenheimer were an oddly lopsided combination. Barbie was the commercial heavyweight, dragging Oppenheimer to its highly profitable status. But Oppenheimer was the critical favorite crafted for a high Letterboxd score, while Barbie still had that corporatized Mattel sheen.

Wicked and Gladiator II aren’t perfectly even. Wicked is fundamentally better; where Ridley Scott squeezes juice out of old tropes, Jon M. Chu does something new. But they both occupy the same market, being mouth-agape colorful spectacles, on different sides of the gender divide. I screamed and laughed and gave my friends wide-eyed stares through Gladiator II, only to do it again through Wicked. “Barbenheimer” didn’t offer that matched emotion.

Still, “Glicked” remains quiet. The Wicked-ers took photos in front of the colorful streamer display, while the Gladiator II-ers grabbed onto their free foam fingers. There didn’t seem to be much overlap at all. Well, except the one woman who walked into our Gladiator II screening halfway through with her glowing Wicked cocktail, only to complain about how there weren’t any leftover seats.

If you have 6-plus hours to spare, give “Glicked” a spin. You may have more fun than “Barbenheimer.”