Mean Girls

The 2004 teen comedy “Mean Girls,” written by Tina Fey and based on Rosalind Wiseman's 2002 book Queen Bees and Wannabes, has become a millennial cult classic in the twenty years since its release. Although part of the key demographic for the film—I was a senior in high school when it was released—I have never been a big fan. The original film coasts on zingy one-liners and the star power of its cast—Lindsay Lohan, Rachel McAdams, Lacey Chabert, and Amanda Seyfried are fantastic as the core four—but the film is dragged down by humor rooted in racist stereotypes and other problematic elements best left in the mid-2000s. Thankfully, this latest version from directors Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. and based on the 2018 Broadway musical adaptation of the 2004 film, brings a refreshing Zoomer spin to the material. 

Previously homeschooled by her research scientist mother (Jenna Fischer) while the two lived in Kenya, naive Cady Heron (Angourie Rice) is a junior learning to navigate public high school's various cliques for the first time. This iteration already begins on a less creaky start by specifying Kenya as the place of Ms. Heron’s research, rather than the vague “Africa” of the previous film. It also eschews the many, many offensive and feeble attempts at mining the place of Cady's upbringing for humor.

Cady finds her first day of school to be harder than she imagined until she’s befriended by art freaks Janis 'Imi'ike (a marvelous Auliʻi Cravalho) and Damian Hubbard (a hilarious Jaquel Spivey) who show her the ropes. The duo narrate, often breaking the fourth wall to directly address the audience through song. Here again the various cliques are described in terms that are specific (horny band geeks, burnouts etc.) without relying on the racial stereotypes found in the earlier film. 

Time seems to stop completely when the queen bee herself, Regina George (a star-making Reneé Rapp), head of the a popular girl clique known as the Plastics, enters the lunchroom, cheese fries in hand. Like everyone, from the word go, Cady is intoxicated by Regina’s powerful presence. Rapp dominates the screen with her towering frame. The directors capture her commanding presence through a mixture of wide shots that show the waves she leaves behind as she moves through the student body, but also through close-ups as Rapp’s expressive face exudes nothing but pure allure. 

The Plastics are rounded out by an affecting Bebe Wood, who brings the same fragile strength to Gretchen Wieners, Regina’s much put-upon best friend, as she brought to her role in “Love, Victor.” Here, Gretchen is given one of the film’s most emotionally resonant songs about body image and self-esteem. Anyone who’s ever had a toxic best friend will relate. Then there’s Avantika as Karen, aka “the dumbest girl you’ll ever meet.” This is a hard role to play and hard shoes to fill, as Seyfried (in her film debut) so expertly calibrated Karen’s dimness with an effortless breeze a la Marilyn Monroe. Avantika often overplays her hand, and you can see the work she puts into play dumb.

The plot kicks into full effect when Regina takes a liking to Cady, as if she’s a new plaything, and invites her to join the Plastics for lunch. Unbeknownst to Cady, Regina and Janis have a dark history involving a middle school friendship gone bad. This backstory is fleshed out with much richer, nuanced, and quite frankly devastating details which make the nefarious plot put into motion by Janis much more understandable in this version of the story. 

Complicating things further is Cady’s crush on her calculus classmate Aaron Samuels (Christopher Briney, who, between this and “The Summer I Turned Pretty,” is cornering the market on teen love triangles), who happens to be Regina's ex-boyfriend. Janis convinces Cady to buddy up to Regina so she can get revenge and Cady can get the guy. Of course, things do not go as planned and soon Cady gets caught up in the glow of being popular, losing her sense of self and her sense of ethics. 

From here, the new film remixes plot beats and character moments from the original film through both a musical and social media lens. The popularity of Cady and Regina rises and falls as fast as a trending topic on Twitter. Their antics are recorded on cell phones, spurring a thousand reaction vids. One minute Cady is nothing, the next she’s getting a million views and likes. While these sequences are visually arresting, they often are used as shorthand to signal changes in Cady’s behavior that could have been teased out a little better in dialogue as well. 

The same could be said for the songs, which in the musical tradition, are mostly used as a way for characters to express their emotions. None of the songs are particularly catchy, although Gretchen Weiner’s song “What’s Wrong with Me?” stands out for its poignancy, as does “I'd Rather Be Me,” Janis’ powerful rock anthem about the importance of self-worth. Even when the songs aren’t great, they are brought to life with visual panache. "Revenge Party," sung by Janis and Damian, with its hallway decked out in rainbow colors and cotton candy clouds nails a certain Gen-Z Instagram aesthetic. Similarly, Regina’s dark dirge “Someone Gets Hurt” evokes the glitter-infused, lowlight misery of something like “Euphoria.”

The original film served as a crowning achievement for star Lindsay Lohan operating at the top of her game, however the role of Cady in the hands of Angourie Rice becomes less dynamic, her transformation less seamless. Rice has a beautiful voice, but as a performer she pales in comparison to both Rapp and Cravalho, whose star power simply cannot be denied. Thankfully, because this musical is structured more as an ensemble, Cady being just okay doesn’t completely torpedo the film as it would if it were built completely around her. 

Ultimately, the film is a vinegary cautionary tale, an angry screed against being mean for meanness sake, and a love letter to teens who are comfortable just being themselves. This time around it seems Fey and co. actually made fetch happen.