Jodie Steele, Christina Bennington, Bobbie Little, Frances Mayli McCann and the cast of Heathers The Musical at the Theatre Royal Haymarket. Picture: Pamela Raith Photography
Heathers The Musical continues at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, London until 11 September 2021.
Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Bullying, bulimia, under-age sex, suicide, toxic masculinity, murder, school shootings… it’s rarely the stuff of musical theatre, let alone jolly, bubble-gum musicals with infectious pop scores. Yet Heathers The Musical manages to combine all of these things in a surprisingly cohesive – and thoroughly enjoyable – two and a half hour show. Should I be laughing at the inappropriate gags while tapping my toes? That’s another question, and one particularly pertinent in a woke 2021. But did I enjoy it? Very much so.
Heathers is, of course, the musicalised stage version of the 1989 cult movie classic starring Winona Ryder and Christian Slater. Work began on the show in 2009, and has found itself in Los Angeles for try-outs in 2013 before running Off-Broadway (2014), then Off-West-End (2017), West End (2018) and now, with a new cast, back at the Haymarket for the summer of 2021.
The film – a vivid memory for me, being a teen at the time of its release – is more of a pastiche or satire on the John Hughes-style high school movies of the 80s rather than a critique or commentary on its rather dark subject matter. It takes the tropes so crucial to this genre – bubbly cheerleaders, plain Janes, beefy quarterbacks and moody loners, all struggling with sexual angst, body image, gender identity, etc – and subverts each one, ripping up the rule book. Indeed, screenwriter Daniel Waters effectively killed off the genre with Heathers.
Similarly, this almost-faithful musical version developed by director Andy Fickman, with book, music and lyrics by Kevin Murphy and Laurence O’Keefe, doesn’t really tackle the issues at the core of Heathers. Okay, it ‘shines a light’ on the dark, awful events that take place behind the doors of the fictional Westerburg High School, and it might help stimulate a discussion about such things. But this is not what it’s designed to do, I’m sure. Instead, it lampoons every high school movie/TV/musical you’ve ever seen, and finds the comedy in the darkest of corners. But it does so very slickly and professionally, and it’s very hard not to dislike.
The Heathers are a clique of bitchy alpha girls – Heather Chandler (Jodie Steele), Duke (Bobbie Little) and McNamara (Frances Mayli McCann) – who deign to welcome into their fold the otherwise nerdy Veronica Sawyer (Christina Bennington). Despite hating this wicked trio, Veronica cynically jumps at the chance to be popular, even turning against her best friend Martha (Madison Swan). But when newboy weirdo Jason ‘J.D.’ Dean (Jordan Luke Gage) arrives on the scene, she is intrigued by his aloofness, and they soon pair up, hatching a plan to humiliate the ringleader Chandler.
Needless to say, it all goes awry and Chandler is fatally poisoned, triggering a series of murders, attempted murders, suicides and fake suicides.
Such is the quality of the writing – and knock-it-out-of-the-park-every-time performances from everyone involved – the result is sensational. The creatives have really put the work in to craft a show that’s a laugh a minute. It’s all so very dark but delivered with pom-poms and jump-splits galore. Gary Lloyd works wonders with the high-octane choreography, which the entire cast gets stuck right into. They’re all clearly having the time of their lives up there.
But it’s the singing that really impresses. Bennington channels her Raven from Bat out of Hell to give a powerful, gutsy performance that makes incredible demands on her voice. Her diminutive frame somehow blasts out every number – turned up to 11 when required but also measured and controlled in the more introspective numbers. For me, she’s perfectly cast.
Much joy is had when Steele’s Heather Chandler is on stage, too. She steals the show with her hilarious bitch-queen performance, so it’s such a pity that her all-too-early poisoning means that she’s not around quite a much as you’d want. Thankfully, in a departure from the movie, the victims return as ghosts, giving Steele more air time.
It’s a big cast – 18 in all – and no one weakens the chain. Gage’s J.D. is the perfect foil for Veronica; another Bat out of Hell alumni, Gage commands the stage and shines darkly in his role of the demonic, damaged and ultimately pathetic teen killer.
Hats off to McCann and Little as the surviving Heathers, and to the ever-reliable Lauren Ward as Veronica’s mum and teacher Ms Fleming – a star turn indeed.
A shout out, too, to Steven Serlin and Simon Bailey in their various roles but in particular for their two dads in the Act II opener, ‘My Dead Gay Son’. So wrong yet so funny. And to Swan as the long-suffering Martha, who finally gets her much-deserved moment in the limelight in the tragicomic ‘Kindergarten Boyfriend’.
Rounding off the cast are Ross Harmon and Joaquin Pedro Valdes (as jocks Kurt and Ram) and, in a variety of roles, Giles Surridge, Christopher Parkinson, Ivan Fernandez Gonzalez, Rumi Sutton, Rachel Rawlinson, Teleri Hughes and Aimee Hodnett.
Keeping everyone in time is musical director Mark Crossland, whose band of six – keys, bass, wind, guitar, drums and trumpet – sounds like a pitful. The tunes are not as inspired by the 1980s as I thought they might be, although it’s interesting to note that the movie eschewed the typical 80s pop/disco soundtrack for moody electronica. Anyway, the songs are all toe-tappers and perfectly, joyously overblown – one glorious set piece after another.
Adding to my enjoyment of the show was the fact that I saw the performance on ‘Freedom Day’, which meant a packed capacity house (no social distancing) and a riotously approving audience that whooped and cheered, clapped and whistled throughout. What a distant memory, and what a difference it makes to experience live theatre with a live audience. The Haymarket was on its feet for an ovation even before the last song finished.
Heathers is a fun, intelligent and darkly twisted show that has survived the transition from movie screen to musical theatre. Indeed, it appears to be improving with each new iteration. At two and a half hours, it’s probably still too long, and it shamelessly – nay, joyously – trivialises what continues to be a raft of serious issues for school kids. (In the first years up to the movie’s release in 1989, the USA averaged one high school mass shooting every year; in the five years up to 2019, the average was nine per year.) But neither I nor the predominantly young female audience I saw it with could fault it for being bloody entertaining!
Craig Glenday
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