Heathers: The Musical

What's your damage? An iconic '80s cult high school satire gets a stunning Off-Broadway musical theatre treatment for the It Gets Better Generation and hits home like an iron fist in velvet glove.

Within New World Stages, the Off-Broadway multi-complex venue known to champion downtown shows like "Evil Dead: The Musical," "The Toxic Avenger" and "The Altar Boyz," a rampant jolt of noise permeated the air, ensnaring fragments of conversations like flypaper.

Jaded Gen X weirdos listed Brat Pack films in chronological order, hip twenty-somethings nursed mixed drinks while studying the playbill, teen boys bitten by the theatre bug horseplay, and teen girls -- none of whom were over 15 years of age-formed beelines, hovering the theatre entrances like hornets to honeycomb. All of this over a musical adaptation of "Heathers," the cult teen black comedy satire that blew up in smoke at the box office and rose like a phoenix from its ashes in the wake of VHS sales. (Remember videotapes, kids?)

Scored by Laurence O'Keefe ("Legally Blonde," "Bat Boy") with book and lyrics by Kevin Murphy ("Reefer Madness"), "Heathers" is based on Daniel Waters' screenplay for the 1988 Michael Lehmann movie that turned Winona Ryder and Christian Slater into MTV Generation idols.

In an era where various teen films like "Fame," "Footloose" and "Endless Love" are being rehashed into sub-par, lesser life forms of their originals; it seemed inevitable that "Heathers" would be reiterated into a new medium. Who would have guessed a musical?

After all, when talks of a musical adaptation circulated years ago, it seemed it would never escape developmental hell and became an urban legend of sorts. But here it was, in all its bittersweet Day-Glo splendor in the guise of show tunes.

As you walk into the small theatre it occupied, music referencing Joy Division, The Smiths, Tears For Fears, The Cure, Cyndi Lauper, Wham! and Pat Benatar reverberated overheard. As the lights dimmed, the jittery crowd traveled back in time to September 1989, at the edge of the egregious eighties, and was given a fly-on-the wall POV of the lives of the students on Westerberg High in Sherwood, Ohio.

Winona Ryder's characterization of slightly self-loathing masochist Veronica Sawyer is replaced by a more wholesome, equally sophisticated precociously self-aware geeky virgin rendition played by Barrett Wilbert Weed ("Lysistrata Jones," "Bare"). After bailing out sex goddess paragons and teen queen bees the Heathers from a trip to detention, she is recruited into the in-crowd and quickly makes a name for herself as a trendsetter and brain.

Soon after, Veronica becomes suffocated by the schoolyard politics, groupthink kowtow and vivacious bullying. This goes too far when plump Martha "Dumptruck" Dunnstock, a hopeless romantic and delusional optimist, is made the subject of ridicule for a cheap laugh at a keg party.

Not only does Veronica stand up to scrunchie-wearing Heather Chandler (played with sizzling aristocratic panache by Jessica Keenan Wynn), she embarrasses her by puking on her in the wake of binging on alcohol. And for fans of the film, she quips her iconic line: "Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up." Heather vows to destroy her reputation.

Lucky for Veronica, she has just the cure. Rebel without a cause and new kid in town Jason "J.D." Dean (played with yummy psychopathic charm by Ryan McCartan) hates the Heathers too. When he asks Veronica for the inside scoop, Veronica notes: "Well, it's just like -- they're people I work with, and our job is being popular and sh*t."

J.D., the smooth-talking Baudelaire-quoting bad boy in black with a God complex has a "plan," and after an "accident" involving a killer drain cleaner cocktail, mean girl Heather Chandler meets her untimely end. A last-minute decision to make her murder look like a suicide turns the school upside down and turns Heather Chandler into a martyr and empathetic innocent.

Soon after, a new queen bee, Heather Duke (played with maniacal hilarity by Alice Lee), is in charge and the vicious circle cycles once again. Especially when machismo footballer jocks Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney (played with sloppy seconds braggadocio by Evan Todd and Jon Eidson, respective) make up a ferocious rumor about Veronica that involves sword fighting.

Do some people just deserve to die? After all, the ruthless teenagers inflict each other without batting an eye and the parents and teachers who resent these kids without even a lack of regard.

"Dear Diary: my teen-angst," Veronica ponders, "now has a body count." Believe it or not, the second act gets darker. But while the musical is very clean, and tells the story with a fresh lens, it takes some of the subversive sting that made it such a great watch to begin with.

The musical skips over one of the best parts of the film: When queen bee Heather bites the dust, the students pray to God and we get a real perspective of their egocentric desires and thoughts: "I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times and I felt bad every time I did it but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything. Praise Jesus, Hallelujah," says Heather Duke in the film.

This is not to say the new adaptation doesn't honor its origins. On the contrary, the update on Daniel Waters' script makes startling commentary on rape culture, underage drinking, homosexuality, cliques, exploitation of youth culture and high school hive mind throughout, in many ways the original does not, only with a confectionary Broadway gloss throughout a mostly by-the-numbers score. Thank god precision-oriented director Andy Fickman makes each song moment pop with their own resolve.

Uninspired at times, the score feels like it borrows from sources from previous works of the writing, but there are some pretty awesome ditties like the burlesque-lite "Candy Store," the goth alt-rock "Dead Girl Walking," the laugh-out-loud "My Dead Gay Son" and pop ballad "Seventeen" provide enough substance amidst the high-fructose to keep one in invested. "Lifeboat," sung by Heather McNamara (Elle McLemore of "Bring It On: The Musical" fame) could be an interesting anthem, but is cut short and seems to lack focus to give it emphasis within the larger frame of the play.

And "Kindergarten Boyfriend," sung by the pathetic unicorn sweatsuit-wearing Martha Dunnstock (Katie Ladner of "Bring It On: The Musical" fame) soars with rich melodies that don't quite stick.

Regardless, never has a show spoken to the post-Columbine cohort and the It-Gets-Better bracket with such magnificence and fun (something shows are forgetting these days). And for the trendy: The fashion, designed by Amy Clark, honors the film with splashes of 80s pop culture acid like blazers with padded shoulders over hiked skirts and saddle shoes. Combined with the set, the Crayola neon bright colors of these costumes explode like prom heaven with pizzazz and edge. It's oh-so-very.

"Heathers" enjoys an extended run at New World Stages - Stage One, 340 West 50th Street in New York. For information or tickets, visit www.broadway.com/shows/heathers/?