On the face of it, Heathers is a show that seems ripe for criticism. It’s crass, it’s crude, it’s glib, and the opening number is peppered with slurs. The trigger warnings are myriad: suicide, eating disorders and murder, oh my! All of those things are absolutely true, there’s no denying it. What’s also true is that it’s an utterly brilliant satire of growing up within a system that fails you at every turn.
Those of you familiar with the 1989 movie may already be au fait with the plot. At Westerberg High School, social outcast and expert forger Veronica Sawyer gets in good with elite high school clique the Heathers, led by ‘mythic bitch’ Heather Chandler. At the same time, she meets disaffected new kid JD, sick of society’s phoniness and out to change the world by any means necessary. When Veronica defies the Heathers at a house party gone awry, she and JD embark on a revenge plot with disastrous consequences, forcing them to fake another student’s suicide to cover their tracks. As their lies spiral and the bodies begin to pile, Veronica discovers JD is not what he seems…
The musical is a lot more candy-coloured than its film parent, but it’s no less acid in its taste. The peppy score touches on pop, rock and gospel, but its upbeat sound is juxtaposed with sharp-witted and caustic lyricism. The script is a masterclass in pitch-black comedy, especially in the school’s complete inability to meaningfully address student mental health. Take for instance, hapless hippie teacher Ms. Fleming’s decision to host a pep rally for suicide awareness after the death of a student - I cackled as a banner unfurled that read ‘WESTERBERG BULLDOGS TAKE A BITE OUT OF SUICIDE”. Ditto the incredible line, “whether or not to kill yourself is one of the most important decisions a teenager will ever make”. Bad taste? Sure. But it’s a bad taste that exposes the total incompetence of the grown-ups in charge - the fact that many of the character’s abusive parents and feckless teachers are double-cast is a very nice touch.
Many people out there may feel the show makes light of suicide, which I absolutely understand (and for the record, be prepared for at least one very explicit depiction onstage - if that’s enough for you to sit this one out, I wouldn’t blame you). But speaking as someone that lost a parent to it, and knows many people who have struggled with suicidal ideation throughout their lives, it hit me as the exact kind of gallows humour I and many of my peers have used to cope when things get dark. For me, at least, it never felt like suicide was the punchline, so much as the selfish ways real tragedy can be exploited by bad faith actors - when characters actually get the chance to share their struggles, it’s treated with real emotional weight, made all the more galling when that vulnerability is rejected by their peers.
Our Veronica for the night was May Tether, who threw herself into the role with gusto and some seriously killer belts. She has the comedy and the confidence nailed down, reminding me quite a bit of Aidy Bryant in her delivery. If anything, she’s arguably a little too self-assured - from the beginning Veronica doesn’t show much timidity or anxiety to build on as she scales the Heathers’ heights, and it would have been nice to bring out more of that contrast. The Heathers themselves make for a powerful trio with harmonies as tight as their scrunchies, Daisy Twells in particular bringing great ditzy pathos to Heather MacNamara’s struggles with depression. And they look stunning, their Skittle-bright blazers and pleated skirts preppily iconic against the ensemble’s muted flannels and tees.
Keelan McAuley as brooding, snarky nihilist JD might be my favourite iteration of this character I’ve seen. His transformation from disaffected but charming rogue to murderously misguided revolutionary is chilling, amped up by his ability to croon like a heartthrob and scream like Barney Greenway with equal verve. It is hard to watch him try and fail to escape the cycles of violence that shaped him, warping his just cause into a self-serving revenge quest. And it’s especially harrowing for this reviewer because put me back in high school and this leather coat-clad, Baudelaire quoting misfit is exactly the guy I’d let ruin my life. Special mention too to Kelly Sweeney at Martha Dunstock, Veronica’s estranged and bullied best friend, who brings an exceptionally engaging vulnerability to the character that makes her astonishing rendition of ‘Kindergarten Boyfriend’ all the more poignant. Sweeney’s voice can move heaven and earth, but she knows how to play in the quiet, too, which is refreshing in a cast where the energy seems perpetually at 100.
That being said, there are a few changes made in the transfer from Broadway to the UK that don’t quite gel. For instance, ‘You’re Welcome’, an incredibly on-the-nose rape culture duet sung by jock duo Kurt and Ram as they corner Veronica in a cow field, replaces ‘Blue’ from the original stage show, to everyone’s detriment. The pair are played with total himbo commitment by Jason Battersby and Ivan Fernandez Gonzalez, but their doofy likeability can’t save this number. Where the Kurt and Ram of ‘Blue’ are your common-or-garden catcalling creeps, the Kurt and Ram of ‘You’re Welcome’ are straight-up predators, making Veronica’s speculation about whether or not they could have grown as people feel far less reasonable, and JD getting the lead out against them far more justifiable.
Similarly, Veronica’s triumphant rejection of JD gets its own ballad ‘I Say No’, the lyrics of which are a pointed reference to the Reagan administration’s disastrous and discriminatory war-on-drugs campaign. Tether delivers on the vocals but given that at its core, Heathers is a show about the failure of institutions and authority figures to protect and listen to youth, having ‘Just Say No’ be invoked as an indicator of unambiguous moral good felt like a misfire - and we know JD hates those.
But, update gripes aside, the reason I will always have a soft spot for Heathers is because there’s something endearingly gutsy about a show that’s willing to take the kinds of risks it does. Many high school set musicals feel a touch sanitised, and I’m not going to pretend that this one’s somewhat implausible happy ending isn’t a bit of a pulled punch. But it boasts such a loyal fandom, I think, because Heathers picks up its croquet mallet and takes big swings, often right on target. In an era of musicals that try desperately to fit in, Heathers stands out by staying true to its sardonic, snarky, dark-sided self - and I wouldn’t want it any other way.