Mean Girls opens in theaters January 12.
If there’s anything that the third iteration of Mean Girls should teach us, it’s this: “In Tina Fey We Trust.” It’s the rare talent who can take their own beloved adaptation of a nonfiction bestseller, turn it into a successful Broadway musical, and then translate that back to screen as its own thing. In lesser hands, that’s a nightmare waiting to happen. But Fey, backed by the strength of Jeff Richmond and Nell Benjamin’s lively songs and the energetic direction of Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr., has refreshed this early aughts tale of the brutalities of high school hierarchies and made it relevant for Gen Z and Gen Alpha audiences. While this musical doesn’t expand upon its source material in any consequential ways, the new Mean Girls stands on its own merits.
Mean Girls Gallery
That includes a great ensemble. One of the film’s strongest decisions manifests immediately: Casting oddball besties Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey) and Janis ‘Imi’ike (Auliʻi Cravalho) as de facto narrators. Through their “live-steamed” introductory song, “A Cautionary Tale,” they function extremely well as the all-knowing, formal observers of Cady Heron’s (Angourie Rice) chutes-and-ladders journey through high-school popularity. Cady goes from a sheltered, home-schooled smartie in Kenya to an out-of-her depths-participant in an animalistic swirl of unfettered hormones and debilitating self-consciousness, and Damian and Janis not only guide her personally, but comment on her successes and failures to the end.
Of course, the biggest stumbling block in Cady’s smooth assimilation into an average teen’s existence is “big deal” Alpha female Regina George (Reneé Rapp). Alongside her carefully curated sycophants, The Plastics – Gretchen Wieners (Bebe Wood) and Karen Shetty (Avantika) – Regina exists as the purveyor and keeper of all social cache in the school. When she prowls into the lunchroom with her cheese fries and Billie Eilish-esque delivery of “Meet the Plastics,” Cady is both intrigued and overwhelmed by the energy coming at her. Regina sees the new kid as a naive toy to bat around, and so the game is afoot for the two who will circle one another for dominance throughout the school year.
In terms of story, Fey doesn’t really mess with the strong foundation that she plucked from Rosalind Wiseman’s Queen Bees and Wannabes. All of the major plot points remain, with Fey tinkering to freshen up the diversity of the characters, updating some sequences for 2024, or delivering some exposition via song. There’s also a modernization of how the teens communicate and disseminate their cruelties to one another: Social media is pervasive in this adaptation, with reactions to humiliations like Regina falling during a talent show performance now addressed via the full, frenzied life cycle of a viral meme. These are vital additions that lean into how this generation operates in the moment, from which directors Jayne and Perez and editor Andrew Marcus achieve both major laughs and emotional devastation.
Rice makes for an authentically naive and wide-eyed Cady. She sells the fish-out-of-water aspects of the character better than Lindsay Lohan did in the original film, and sings the hell out of the math metaphors in “Stupid with Love.” Rapp is all simmering power as Regina, belting out an array of songs that cement her queen-bee status. But she really shines comedically in the final moments of the film, which made me wish there were more opportunities for her to hit similar notes sooner.
The most successful of the new/old characters is Janis, who is more well-rounded because she isn’t entirely defined by her past experiences with Regina. Instead, her passion for textile art is woven into every aspect of the character as an independent and integral part of her own journey. Cravalho runs with that detail and makes the character her own in look and voice. Gretchen also has extra depths as a more self-aware and self-loathing sidekick who is conflicted about her obsessive fealty to the head Plastic. Having these characteristics earnestly revealed in “What’s Wrong with Me?” allows for a stronger arc overall.
As for the musical of it all, Jayne and Perez Jr. cracked the assignment of transposing the energy of a stage production into this cinematic retelling. They keep the story in a state of perpetual motion with slick, seamless visual transitions. The same goes for how they block the musical numbers, with cameras moving along with the primary singers as they run, dance, and scamper across multiple sets in dynamic fashion. Particularly strong is how the directors marry the pivotal Halloween party with Regina’s rock ballad “Someone Gets Hurt,” yielding a dark, undulating, sinister reveal of her machinations.
It’s a relief that Fey and company haven’t just phoned in this adaptation. They’ve brought only a portion of Richmond and Benjamin’s compositions from the stage musical to the screen, which shows restraint and consideration for the medium. In turn, that results in a strong collection of songs that are witty and clever in moving this version of the story forward, and destined to enter heavy rotation on TikTok. Jayne and Perez Jr. then frame those numbers with innovative and spirited direction that distinguishes this Mean Girls from the original. It’s an entertaining watch that benefits from its Regina George-esque confidence.