“What’s your damage?”
One of the many endlessly quotable lines spouted by Winona Ryder’s Veronica and co in Michael Lehmann’s jet-back comedy, Heathers (1989), it’s also the least likely to get you fired from work. The one about the chainsaw? Not so much…
Both explosive utterances make it to the delightfully diabolical stage adaptation, Heathers the Musical. With a book, music and lyrics from the Legally Blonde the Musical team-up of Laurence O’Keefe and Kevin Murphy, it follows an unending parade of non-musical films adapted into song-and-dance stage versions, including Back to the Future, 9 to 5, Groundhog Day, Cruel Intentions, Pretty Woman and Mrs Doubtfire.
Are we going to prom or to hell with this take?
Directed by Andy Fickman with musical direction from Martine Wengrow, Heathers the Musical may be cheesier than the goofy yet undeniably brutal movie, but the slushy-driven “teen-angst bullshit” spirit of the Westerberg High cohort is still present and incorrect. Far more so than, say, the recent jukebox tone-down of far bleaker film, Saturday Night Fever.
It really works, though costume designer David Shields’ popping Veronica in blue over black, is a step too far, copied and pasted from a million teen films, notably Allison in The Breakfast Club. Shields’ school set design is also rather perfunctory, as is Ben Cracknell’s basic lighting, but thank goodness the ensemble ably distracts.
How are those teenagers who want to be treated like human beings?
Leading the charge, it’s difficult to believe this is the mainstage debut of astonishing WAAPA graduate Emma Caporaso, who absolutely nails Veronica’s outsider energy.
Interestingly, while the film presents Veronica as already ensconced within the catty clique of Heathers, if definitely on the lowest rung, the musical rewinds the action a little. Beginning with her savagely bullied by them in the battlefield of school hallways, bathrooms and tray-strewn cafeterias, Veronica embraces their vicious circle for her own safety while venting in pointed “dear diary” asides.
Kiwi Calista Nelmes is brilliantly savage as red kilt-sporting queen bee Heather Chandler, spitting acidic energy that’s the perfect counterbalance to the better angels of Caporaso’s Veronica. The Heathers are rounded out by yellow-favouring Abigail Sharp, a delight as ditzy cheerleader Heather McNamara, and Amélia Rojas, as green-hued and eating-disordered Heather Duke. While Rojas isn’t quite as vocally strong as the rest, she’s still great fun and the whole is more than up to the task.
Fresh from playing pinstripe-suited slasher Patrick Bateman in another anarchic straight film to stage musical, American Psycho, Conor Beaumont is insidiously charming as trigger-happy dr-emo boy, Jason ‘JD’ Dean, sporting a fisherman’s swishy wax jacket like he just walked off the set of I Know What You Did Last Summer and with incel-like murderous intent to match.
Beaumont’s great in the speaking parts, tempting Veroncia with the freedom to breathe by popping off her school’s tormentors, including douchebro jocks Ram and Kurt, a comically cockily duo depicted with gusto by the game David Cuny and Nic Van Lits.
But Beaumont can’t quite hold his own with the mighty Caporaso during their duets, including the show-stopping ‘Dead Girl Walking’ and ‘I Am Damaged’. Hopefully both he and Rojas will continue to improve across the run, as their performances are otherwise spot on.
The expansion of the phantom roles makes for a grand Greek chorus alongside the campus’ assorted students and teachers hoggin' the limelight when the bodies start to drop, with the show just as sharp as the movie on the dangers of glamorising self (or others’) harm.
Are there any other big changes to the chaos that killed the dinosaurs?
There sure are. Good girl Betty is done away with altogether (by the writers, not JD), with her stuff folded into a marvellous Mel O’Brien’s Martha Dunnstock aka Dumptruck. Again, this streamlining works, combining the monstrous Heathers’ merciless fat-shaming with Veronica’s former bestie that’s fallen by the wayside.
The only slight drawback in this economically composite maneuverer is a straggling plot point involving Martha once being Heather Duke’s mate that now feels like a looser end. It’s also a shame to lose the kooky role-swap language of JD calling his dad “son,” with the script opting for a more abusive relationship with Ellis Dolan’s incendiary expert Big Bud Dean that makes sense but loses the film’s tantalising ambiguity. The finale is also a bit muddier here.
Who will love Heathers the Musical?
Sparkly and silly in equal measure, Heathers the Musical walks a fine line between feel-good and bad that anyone can grab. Even if the show can’t fully course correct the film’s more overtly homophobic elements – the ‘80s into ‘90s were a very different era – ‘My Dead Gay Son’ is still a toe-tapping tune while leaning into stereotypes.
Wrongness is in the story’s soon-to-be-buried-highschooler bones, after all. Refusing to shy away from the murderous mayhem that ensues at Westerberg High, the bitter realities of teenagers constantly assaulted by peer pressuring bullies who feel just as out of place ring true. ‘Beautiful’ and ‘Seventeen’ capture the hormonal nightmare, and how a good girl can go almost bad when smitten by a not-so-cool tool like JD.
If you like your musicals on the more maniacal side, like the it’s giving me life-ending lift of Beetlejuice, then the satirically sharp Heathers the Musical will work its dark magic for fans of the film or those coming fresh to this twisted story.
'Heathers the Musical' is on now at Arts Centre Melbourne's Playhouse Theatre until May 9, 2026. For more information and to book tickets, head to the website.
Stay in the loop: sign up for our free Time Out Melbourne newsletter for the best of the city, straight to your inbox.
