Heathers: The Musical - an '80s pop black comedy spectacular
25 Aug 2018

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Scott Gorman

Revenge is not a dish best served cold, it is best served up as a musical on a neon candy-coloured platter. Heathers: The Musical opens with the ensemble singing "Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!" before our heroine Veronica melodiously states, "Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school/This is the Thunderdome." High school is a hellish experience for most, but definitely so for the students at Westerberg High School.

Set in 1989 - partially to stay true to the source film, but also to take advantage of the distinctive fashions, music and dance moves of the era - Heathers: The Musical is timeless. From Grease to whatever musical the sex education curriculum walkouts that happened concurrent with Heathers: The Musical's opening night inspire, the hierarchy and horrors of high school are rich fodder for black comedy.

The '80s were also the birth place of the currently reigning geek culture, where the nerds ascended to displace the jocks. The anger of punk mutated into new wave into pop triviality and nothing ever really changed, just the qualifications of cool. Heathers: The Musical begins where most musicals end, with the heroine transformed into the princess in the opening number "Beautiful." The black comedy is in the soul-searching and body count that result from one's wishes coming true and the resultant lack of a happy ever after.

It should be noted that while the film Heathers has been hugely influential - I am not even going to discuss the plot on the assumption that it is familiar - it was not a financial success. Even this musical version never made it to Broadway despite an instantly catchy score fusing peppy '80s pop and soaring Broadway belting. And the long-gestating television reboot was, in the wake of the multitudes of school shootings, deemed to hot to handle and never made it to air. All three Heathers are underdogs.

This Hart House Theatre production of Heathers: The Musical zips along with director Jennifer Walls moving a large cast over a dream of a set right out of an '80s music video. Andre Nuttall choreography cribs from the same music videos but adds some welcome contemporary touches as well as a lot of gentle mocking of the Pat Benatar school of minimalist movement masquerading as emotion in motion. It is great fun. Even when the action gets serious - you can tell as there are more ballads - and there are consequences. It seems that power corrupts and that when the underdogs aren't being bullied, they have to kill, literally, to maintain their position atop the heap.

Emma Sangalli makes for an appealing Veronica. She is in every scene and never loses the audience's interest and identification. She would be an ideal everyperson in extraordinary circumstances, except that she has a powerhouse voice that never flags. Sangalli is well matched with her love interest/nemesis Justan Myers as Jason "JD" Dean. Arrogant, Baudelaire quoting, trenchcoat wearing and prone to acts of extreme callous violence, he is the ideal bad boy boyfriend. Myers plays him with a smirk and frequent double takes or quips that break the fourth wall but are endearing. But it is his voice that has strength and sincerity. When he and Sangalli duet, it is musically stunning.

The three Heathers, who get the entrance to end all entrances so they repeat it and it never gets old, are a delight whether revelling in their evil power or gaining glimmers of self-awareness and humanity. Paige Foskett (Anne of Green Gables, Carrie: The Musical) is all sharp angles and calculation while Becka Jay goes from dim witted cartoon to an exquisite broken doll ballad. But the ringleader, the formidable Heather Chandler who even - Spoiler Alert! - returns as a ghost, is incarnated by Mary Bowden who is not only a triple threat but has studied at the altar of RuPaul's Drag Race. This Heather can kill with a quip and struts and slides with a stride that terminates opposition. She is delicious.

Moulan Bourke as Martha Dunnstock (aka Martha Dumptruck) gets instant empathy as the most downtrodden of the downtrodden. With thick glasses and plump padding, she moons above her station and, though the character is mostly a plot contrivance, she does get a big and funny power ballad number that she sells with conviction. The entire ensemble works hard and carve individuals out of the non-unison dancing sections. There is a goth, a nerd, and other instantly identifiable '80s stereotypes, but they are loose-limbed, sweet-voiced and rock their 3D glasses like Ray Bans.

Wade Minacs and Aaron Cadesky are the jocks who pose as macho, mask their insecurities and look quite fetching when stripped to their boxers. They epitomize the angst of the oppressor and are the impetus for Heather: The Musical's best number, "My Dead Gay Son." A rousing gospel number - composer Laurence O'Keefe gleefully, as he did in the brilliant Bat Boy and the effervescent Legally Blonde:The Musical, utilizes any musical genre that suits his purposes - the song takes a  politically incorrect premise and stands it on its head, encapsulating the theme of Heathers: The Musical concisely.

In 1989, the funeral scene might have been shocking and a very dark laugh-getter, but in 2018 two men kissing, the Village People and a giant Pride flag signify a party. It earns applause and cheers instead of mockery. There is a subtext there that is explored tentatively with the confusion between "dude" and "dad," and a purple nurple echoed in an affectionate casually erotic manner. But in the grand scheme, "faggot" is just another colour in the rainbow of insults and labels. And it is telling that the passion between two men, meant as a joke and metaphor, is more explicit than the heterosexual virginity-losing aria "Dead Girl Walking." 

But it hardly matters and there really isn't time for parsing the depths of the drama because, like the '80s, Heathers: The Musical just wants to inspire laughter, a soupcon of shock, and some seat-dancing and singing along. And entertain it does. The exuberance of the cast papers over a few minor pacing problems inherent in the text, and a sound mix that did no favours to diction or to the higher part of anyone's range, to deliver lots of smiles. And for those of us, the nerdy underdogs (which is almost every musical theatregoer), there is sweet revenge served piping hot.