Heathers (1988)

I considered streaming Mean Girls, but then I thought I'd better check out one of its predecessors first, particularly one that just became a musical. Almost all I knew about Heathers was the theme of mean teens. From that, I inferred that it wasn't for me exactly. High school movies rarely did much for me even in high school, and the '80s had a thing for bullies much worse than any I ever encountered (and I was an easy target).

Indeed, the alpha Heather has all the villainous subtlety of Snidely Whiplash, cold even to her "friends." How do people like that get so much social pull? She and the other two Heathers don't seem especially rich or anything. Protagonist Veronica Sawyer (Winona Ryder) is sort of a Heather-in-training and still resents them as much as anyone else does. Then she gets acquainted and enamored with J.D. (Christian Slater), who first comes across as a somewhat likable jerk, a la Patrick in Ten Things I Hate About You, but has a more rebellious streak than she realized -- and will help her make her basest wishes come true....

I'm really not sure what to make of this movie. Taken as a pure if dark comedy, it's too mean-spirited for my taste. It even turns an apparent date rape into a mere sideshow, never to be mentioned again.

On the other hand, a potentially serious undercurrent beneath the exaggerated veneer condemns not just the bullies but the people who react inappropriately to them. In defiance of the contemporary cinematic trend, the intelligent yet warped and obsessive J.D. ultimately comes across as a bigger villain than anyone in the "in" clique. After a while, it seems he's not after justice so much as...poetry. The little smile constantly on his face indicates that he's no Sweeney Todd. Slater modeled him after Jack Nicholson, understandably. Think of the Joker with a bit more stealth and success in romance.

J.D. isn't the only one Veronica recognizes as in need of a new perspective on death. Nobody, teen or adult, properly mourns the alleged suicides, and some take a kind of delight. Basically, this parodies the real-world tendency to fetishize if not glamorize such acts. A briefly featured fictional band's song, "Teen Suicide -- Don't Do It," may be the best '80s lampoon of '80s PSAs.

Unfortunately, I can't be sure how effective or intentional the first of the two messages is. Maybe J.D. developed a misaimed fandom, like Tyler Durden of Fight Club. Maybe the filmmakers themselves agreed with his philosophy and vilified him because it was the only way to get the green light. Veronica can't abide by him, but maybe she shouldn't listen to her superego. So what if there'll always be a new alpha bitch? Let 'em sow what they reap. Besides, even the heroine looks pretty bad in the end. Earlier drafts had her die too.

The silly presentation certainly leaves the serious aspects open to interpretation. How silly? The people involved with murder rarely worry at all about getting caught, and indeed they never do. I'm left to wonder how some loose ends got tied up.

Whichever way the film works, it's more cathartic than clever, like Office Space. It's also about as relevant now as it was in 1988. If any part has aged badly (apart from Veronica's fashion sense), it's the prevailing Ohio attitude toward gays. Prepare to hear "fag" more often than in The Breakfast Club, if you dare to watch.