Before we begin, it’s important that I acknowledge a few things: first, I think the original Mean Girls is a stone cold classic, a razor sharp and endlessly quotable teen comedy whose cultural footprint has scarcely diminished over the past two decades. Second, I’m a huge fan of musical theater, and was looking forward to seeing the Broadway adaptation of Mean Girls until the COVID-19 pandemic derailed those plans and I subsequently moved to a different state (and eventually, a different country). Suffice to say, I expected to love this film adaptation of the stage adaptation long before I stepped foot into the theater a few days ago to experience it for the first time.
The broad strokes are still here: Cady Heron (Angourice Rice) moves to the United States after spending her formative years living in Kenya and being homeschooled, and finds herself ill-equipped to deal with the perilous social dynamics of Northshore High School. Janis (Auli’i Cravalho) and Damien (Jaquel Spivey) are still outcasts, Gretchen (Bebe Wood) is still hoarding secrets, Karen (Avantika) is still painfully — and hilariously — dumb, and Regina George (Reneé Rapp, reprising her Broadway role) is still the Queen Bee with whom the entire school is infatuated.
The script by Tina Fey (who penned the 2004 film and the Broadway version, and also returns to the role of Ms. Norbury) leaves many of the classic line deliveries in place, but dulls the edge on several plot developments, opting for an overall tone that feels a bit softer than the original film, a decision which may flummox some longtime fans. Musical devotees may likewise be stunned upon learning that more than a dozen songs from the stage version of Mean Girls have been completely excised, with others shortened, reworked or given to different characters altogether.
Thankfully, the numbers that remain are some of the most beloved, and the cast are given plenty of opportunity to showcase their vocal talents; Cravalho, best known as the voice of Disney’s Moana, belts out anthems like “Revenge Party” and “I’d Rather Be Me” with aplomb, and Rapp serves up a lethal concoction of sultry and sinister with “Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn.” Not to be outdone, Avantika steals the show with the Halloween-themed “Sexy,” which even acknowledges its own dance break in a small meta wink to the audience.
I mentioned earlier that I walked into the theater expecting to love this film, and it pains me to say that I didn’t quite get there. The cast is strong across the board — particularly Rice’s sweeter, more naive interpretation of Cady, and Rapp’s deliciously wicked spin on a cherished cinematic villain — and the film works best when it fully embraces its Broadway roots and leans into the inherent absurdity of the genre. But in scaling back the music (presumably to allow for more callbacks and references to the 2004 film), Mean Girls ultimately does itself a disservice; it’s a narrative about characters struggling to find themselves and come to terms with who they are, but in trying to straddle the line between remake and reinterpretation, the film — unlike its characters — never seems at peace with its identity.
The result is less an adaptation of the stage version, and more a remake of the original film with a smattering of songs thrown in; personally, I would’ve preferred something that hewed closer to the former, but I won’t deny there’s still fun to be had here. The 2004 version is still the Queen Bee, but this update is worth the price of admission for the cast alone, and the music is icing on the cake; don’t be surprised if you catch yourself humming a few of these melodies several days later, or adding the soundtrack to your Spotify playlist.