Mean Girls (2024)

Score: 3 / 5

"My name is Regina George." The oft-repeated hook, in a sultry, jazzy tone, reminds us time and again that in the world of Mean Girls identity matters above all else. The original 2004 comedy used the parlance of its times -- racial and gendered stereotypes included -- to pack its punches in the hands of eminently likable young actors who made it the cultural touchpoint it has since become. Like most comedies from the last forty years, it was adapted as a Broadway musical in 2018; though I'm unfamiliar with the soundtrack and book of that musical, this film adapts that version of the material, though reports on its faithfulness are ambiguous (something like fourteen songs were cut from stage to screen). Notably for this viewer, it updates the material to include lots of social media and Zoomer slang, which will surely be a hit for mass audiences but left me more annoyed than humored.

Angourie Rice (Betty Brant in the MCU, The Beguiled, Mare of Easttown) plays protagonist Cady, and she's just not serving. Her capable voice and wide-eyed innocence are welcome for exactly her opening song and then get old real quickly; she's so disconnected and uninterested in the film that I frequently wished she'd just disappear and we could focus on the more interesting characters and performers. To be fair, Cady is a less dynamic part, but if Lindsay Lohan could pull it off with more panache, Rice certainly could have. Similarly, her love interest Aaron Samuels as played by Christopher Briney seems to snore his way through, mostly existing to adjust his own hair and look wistful at girls. Other performers in this film are wonderful, especially Auli'i Cravalho and Jaquel Spivey as Cady's art freak friends who narrate the story and occasionally break the fourth wall. Reneé Rapp will earn much praise as queen bee Regina George, who seems to stop time every time she approaches a scene. The camera loves her, her vocals enchant, and the star power between Rapp and Cravalho is thankfully more than enough to carry this film.

Technically, the film is a mixed bag. In updating the time period, production design is fighting a two-sided battle: leaning into Gen Z style with costumes (and casting that embraces and celebrates larger body sizes) and colors that didn't always work for me but make sense in the film's context and straddling the line between a cinematic medium and honoring the stage version. Lengthy choreography scenes appear well-constructed and intricate but are frequently hamstrung by editing that doesn't allow us the chance to experience the dancers' energy. I just lambasted Rice's performance, but truly the film doesn't do her any favors in performing Cady's disintegrating ethics because most of these moments are carried out in montages of social media posts and reactions, acting like a Greek chorus and telling us what to think without letting us see Cady's evolution for ourselves.

The music is mostly forgettable -- another trait of many recent Broadway adaptations of famous movies -- but a few gems stand out. It should be noted that the music in this film seems to be in the tradition of older musicals, allowing characters to simply express their inner thoughts to us; none of the songs include plot points or help push the story forward, effectively rendering them useless in terms of storytelling. It's a valid and historic approach, just not one I personally appreciate. That said, Gretchen Wieners's song "What's Wrong with Me?" (and Bebe Wood's entire performance, along with Avantika as Karen) was the most timely and urgent bit of the film, along with Cravalho's stirring finale number "I'd Rather Be Me," which left me reeling from its lyrical poignancy, her devastating delivery, and the unbelievable one-take tracking shot.

Two sequences in particular stand out to me as the best in the film. The first is "I'd Rather Be Me," which I intend to watch on repeat someday soon. The second serves as what I expect is the Act One finale of the musical, from the Halloween party through fallout from what happens there. The party itself is wonderful, much more satisfyingly realized by the production design than in the original film. When Regina's dark solo "Someone Gets Hurt" starts, the action freezes again and is awash in a paralyzing blue light evocative of Euphoria aesthetics. The editing unfortunately fumbles our vision of inspired choreography and limits Regina's impact on us as well as the partygoers, but the scene is still wickedly powerful. Then, as decisions are made to wreak revenge on each other's lives, the school erupts into a delightfully campy "Revenge Party" which was the only song stuck in my head after viewing. So, while this iteration of the material was enjoyable for me -- again, mostly because of Cravalho and Rapp -- it felt like this production was reaching too far and grasping too tight to compare with the original, warts and all.