Wicked's Marissa Bode Is Finding Magic in Herself

Marissa Bode knows her character, Nessarose, in Wicked: For Good isn't the most beloved. She's seen the memes, she's seen the tweets, and she's seen the discourse. Nessarose—the tightly wound, morally gray younger sister of Elphaba Thropp (played by Cynthia Erivo)—has long lived in the same cultural purgatory as the internet's favorite low-stakes villains, such as Nate from The Devil Wears Prada. Bode doesn't flinch at that reputation, though. If anything, the 25-year-old actress sees a version of herself in it.

"I have an immense amount of empathy for her," Bode says. It's a deep-rooted feeling she's had since first stepping into the world of Oz back when filming began in 2022. Bode is the first wheelchair-using actor in the musical's history to portray Nessarose, an overdue milestone that's reverberated across disability-advocacy spaces. While the internet may not agree with Nessarose's choices, Bode understands the emotional terrain intimately. "I know she's not everybody's favorite character, but I understand her so completely, especially from a disabled person's perspective," she says. "I wish that audiences allowed for more complex disabled characters because, so many times, we're infantilized or victimized on-screen. Nessarose is so complex, and sure, she does take on more of a villain role, but I don't think she's just that either. At the end of the day, she wants to be loved but, more than anything, wants to be seen as a human being who has that autonomy. I see the humanity in her in that way."

That clarity of who Bode is, despite the Hollywood of it all, is part of what makes her so disarming. When she logs onto Zoom a few weeks shy of Wicked: For Good hitting theaters, she radiates a kind of unfiltered honesty that's rare among young actors. Long gone are the days of overly media-trained statements, and in their place is an authenticity that flows through every minute of our conversation. At the top of our call, Bode joins the meeting beaming. It's the day after Election Day, where progressive candidates and proposals had a sweeping victory across the country. "I feel a little sliver of hope," she says, nodding to the previous day's events. Bode, who is Black, queer, and disabled, is acutely aware of her place in the world and her newfound platform to push back against any standards that might confine her.

That awareness didn't come out of nowhere. Bode first saw Wicked onstage when she was 11. The production was bittersweet—although Nessarose's character was one of the first depictions of disability she had seen in theater, the actor actually playing Nessarose wasn't disabled. Nevertheless, the experience was a fated connection, sparking Bode's interest in her local community theater in Wisconsin and, later, a full-fledged commitment to a career in the arts. After graduating from the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, Bode moved out to Los Angeles to look for something, anything that would pay the bills. "It took me a really long time to find any survival job, especially as a disabled person," she adds. After working for a year as a part-time after-school art teacher, she sent in an audition tape for Wicked.

"The audition process was really intimidating," Bode admits. Over a series of Zoom workshops with casting directors, she immersed herself in Nessarose—probing who she was, what she longed for, and how her arc might unfold across two films in a way that felt both considered and resonant with Bode's lived experience as a disabled woman. "At the last callback, I was so nervous—so, so, so nervous—and I really did think that I blew it," Bode recounts years later.

The heavy silence from producers in the weeks that followed was all but confirmation for Bode that she didn't get the role. Instead of wallowing, she made a cheeky short film about witchcraft set to "Witches" by Alice Phoebe Lou, naturally. Perhaps it was intuition, or maybe some quiet corner of her mind already understood what was coming.

In the short film, the final shot sees a wash of green light illuminating her face—a subconscious nod to her on-screen older sister, Elphaba—as if beckoning her forward. Jon M.Chu, Wicked's director, teased her by reenacting the short's ending to Bode when announcing she got the part: an off-screen knock, presumably by a witch coming to collect Bode.

Chu, whose offer videos for both Erivo and Ariana Grande have gone viral, lightheartedly cautioned Bode about how her short film might be perceived. After all, no one knew she was in contention for the role of Nessarose, and secrecy was essential. "I was internally panicking, and then he was like, 'Actually, there's somebody at the door. I have to go get this,'" Bode recalls. "And then he turns the camera around, and it's Ariana and Cynthia holding a sign that says, 'Welcome to Oz. Will you be our Nessarose?'" Cue the waterworks.

It's a reflection of the environment the Wicked universe has created on- and off-screen, Bode notes. (No, the cast didn't experience a traumatic event on set that makes them cry all the time. They just truly like each other that much.) The camaraderie was critical. After all, Bode's life shifted at warp speed. One minute, she was leading after-school art classes as Ms. Bode; the next, she was stepping into one of Hollywood's most highly visible franchises of the decade. The scale of Wicked alone would shake any newcomer, but as someone's first major role, the sudden spotlight can be a shock to the system.

I ask Bode how she's managing it all, and I can practically feel the breath she's been holding from halfway across the country. "It's definitely been extremely overwhelming to know I've had that many eyes on me," Bode admits. That scrutiny brings its own pressure—the expectation to stay palatable and the feeling of being perceived for every move you make in an era where the comments section can be as ruthless as it is supportive. The possibility of backlash hasn't stopped her from speaking up, though. What would exhaust her, she says, is silencing herself. "I think it would be remiss of me to have this many eyes on me and not use my platform," Bode adds. She's been vocal about her support for the Palestinian people amid a genocide, a staunch defender of queer rights, and a fierce advocate for her disabled brothers and sisters. At the end of the day, no opportunity that's meant for her will force her to discard her moral backbone for visibility or profit. "Of course, I care about my career and growing my career, but at the same time, I also deeply care about real human beings," she says.

The essence of who Bode is can be found in her TikTok account, which she describes as a corner on the internet dedicated to shitposting and complaining. In it, you'll find a public diary about her life as a young woman, whether it be the time she, her partner, and their cat dressed up as the love triangle from Challengers or her opinions on parasocial relationships. (Weeks after our conversation, Bode made a video coming to the defense of her costar Grande, who was ambushed by a fan on the red carpet during the Singaporean premiere of Wicked: For Good.) When I divulge that I've been a fan of Bode's TikTok account since the first movie, she flashes a big smile and notes that connecting with people through her "silly little videos" has made navigating her new normal much more bearable. "A lot of it is just reminding people that we're not these overly-media-trained robots," she says. "We're just human beings like the rest of you." In fact, most of Bode's fans are chronically online Gen Zers like her. "Let's have some fun. Let's be silly, but let's also have some real conversations," she adds.

Bode has been having real conversations for a while now. Earlier this year, she was honored with the Christopher Reeve Acting Award for her role as Nessarose. The honor distinguishes accurate portrayals and employment of people with disabilities in the entertainment industry. Bode used her speech to highlight all the work that still needs to be done. It doesn't just end with having a single disabled actor in front of the camera, she urges. There needs to be an overhaul filled with structural change that will actually make entertainment equitable and accessible to anyone. In fitting fashion, the award was presented by Cesily Collette, the actress who portrayed young Nessarose in the first film and stole the internet's heart.

"We're not just one thing to cross off a diversity checklist," Bode says. There needs to be more disabled people behind the camera too, whether it be in the crew, the writer's room, or even on set as disability coordinators. "At the end of the day, I just want to act. I don't need to worry about whether I'm able to even get on set at all," Bode adds. It doesn't just stop there, though. Bode has made a point of talking about disability beyond acting. It's easy to be pigeonholed into just talking about representation on-screen, but in reality, her newfound platform allows her to advocate for policy changes, education, and accessibility for disabled folks across the spectrum in different fields.

When I bring up accessibility and fashion, we immediately veer into a 10-minute tangent about the construction of Bode's costumes, something most moviegoers won't even think about when they see her on-screen as Nessarose. Costume designer Paul Tazewell and Bode's stylist, Alexandra Mandelkorn, have been deliberate about ensuring she feels as powerful and confident as the rest of the all-star cast. After our call, Bode is headed to a last-minute fitting for her New York and London premiere looks. The latter, her favorite, is a vampy, gothic Bibhu Mohapatra gown that nods to Nessarose's darker arc in the second film. Fashion, like advocacy, is central to who Bode is. "I like appearing queer and telling that story through what I wear," she jokes, recalling the Tumblr-era galaxy-legging outfits of her past.

To be cringe is to be earnest—galaxy leggings and all—and Bode knows the power of feeling everything all at once. "To be cringe is to be free," she says, thinking back to the girl who saw Wicked for the first time and finally recognized herself on a stage. "I was so afraid to be silly or cringey that I ended up losing a lot of who I was." Now, with her partner and a queer friend group around her, she says she's gotten that girl back.

If Bode has learned anything from her first brush with Hollywood scale, it's that you don't survive by shrinking. You survive by expanding into your weirdness, your politics, your style, your joy—into the very things people once told you made you "too much." As Wicked: For Good hurtles her into a new stratosphere, Bode is choosing to show up exactly as she's always been: unapologetically herself.

Photographer: Zamar Velez
Stylist: Alexandra Mandelkorn
Hairstylist: Barb Thompson
Makeup Artist: Cherish Brooke Hill
Manicurist: Queenie Nguyen
Creative Director: Amy Armani
Entertainment Director: Jessica Baker
Producer: Lindsay Ferro