Shannon Cotter puts down the Burn Book for her review of Mean Girls (2024).
An adaptation of a musical which is an adaptation of a film which is an adaptation of a book — is this tangled creative lineage a possible first in cinema history? When the release of Mean Girls (2024) was announced, it was met with much derision from press and punters alike, despite the begrudging praise for fan favourite Renée Rapp. Initially made for television, the film was only slated for a theatrical release after positive test screening scores. This limitation of scope is evident in the sparse production design, fast-fashion wardrobe as well as a number of musical numbers which are shot more like music videos.
Yet, despite all its quirks and the hard comparison to the beloved original, taken in isolation Mean Girls (2024) is a light, funny and colourful love letter. Maybe girls’ fraught relationships with each other haven’t changed as much as we’d like to think since 2004.
Much like in the original, Cady Heron (Angourie Rice) — a precocious, naïve teenager who has grown up homeschooled in Kenya — returns to the United States, where she falls under the claws of renowned beauty queen and Mean Girl, Regina George (Renée Rapp). Betrayal, catfights and random dance breakouts ensue under the guiding hands of Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey) and Regina George’s former-friend-turned-enemy, Janis Imi’ike (Auli’i Cravalho).
With Fey returning to the script, and Arturo Perez Jr. in the director's seat, Mean Girls (2024) retains the witticisms and subtle humour of the original — even if the musical numbers do not live up to their Broadway counterparts. For once, it is perhaps a worse experience to enter as a die-hard fan rather than a casual cinemagoer, with many songs being watered down to lo-fi pop rather than bombastic orchestration. Having avoided marketing itself as a musical, these changes may be an effort to convert a non-musical-loving audience — or accommodate some of the cast’s weaker singing skills.
Though Rice delivers an anxious but likeable Cady, her excellent performance is underscored by her struggle to hit certain Lohan-esque notes. However, the film’s saving grace comes in the form of Rapp (who previously played Regina George on Broadway) and Auli’i Cravalho (perhaps best known as the voice of Moana), both of whose musical backgrounds and vocal prowess elevate the film substantially.
Following McAdams is no easy feat, but Rapp delivers in what is her biggest role to date. There are clear differences between the two: Rapp’s Regina is more sultry and more outright in her disdain and apathy towards other students, but also seems to harbour less vindictiveness than her 2004 counterpart. Her musical numbers are the best in the film; “Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn” showcase Rapp’s star power and ensure her musical talents are made good use of. As a performer Rapp is here to stay, for sure.
While I'm sure executives were hoping to reinvent Mean Girls for a new generation, certain moments do frequently ring hollow — with an exception made for Spivey’s hilarious rendition of iCarly’s theme song, which garnered the biggest audience laugh of the screening. The inclusion of social media platforms such as TikTok — though not the worst seen on screen in recent years — is egregious and evokes Steve Buscemi’s “Hey, fellow kids” meme, most notably in Karen Shetty’s (Avantika) rendition of “Sexy”.
That is perhaps why the original remains so enduring with girls of all ages — its universality. For this reviewer, there is always still a pang when Fey asks North Shore High’s female students to raise their hands if they’ve “ever had a girl say something bad about [them] behind [their] back?” and comes back with a full audience.
While Broadway fans might be propelled to return to the musical soundtrack, the performances and humour remain strong enough to allow Mean Girls (2024) to stand on its own merits. Here’s looking forward to the inevitable mini-series in another twenty years.
Mean Girls (2024) is available to stream online now.
