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Directed by Ava K. Pallotta ’25, “Heathers: the Musical” brings audiences back to high school in its worst form: a hellscape of social anxieties, power dynamics, and also, murder.

The theater adaptation of the 1989 dark comedy film, “Heathers” follows Veronica Sawyer (Shannon M. Harrington ’26) in her senior year at Westerburg High School, whose social scene is ruled by the hegemony of Heather Chandler (Isa E. Peña ’23), Heather Duke (Caron S. Kim ’24), and Heather McNamara (Gabrielle M. Greene ’27). When Veronica finds herself accepted into the Heathers’ clique and falling in love with darkly alluring outsider Jason “J.D.” Dean (Max B. Allison ’25), she becomes entangled in a series of staged suicides. “Heathers” is dramatic and hilarious while remaining deeply empathetic, hitting the metaphorical croquet ball out of the park.

“Heathers” both plays up stereotypes and deconstructs them, asking how social hierarchies fail everyone involved. This production flourishes from a cast and direction that handles its characters with complexity. When jock Ram (Julian Wagner-Carena ’23) drops his goonish front to comfort best friend Kurt (Will Jevon ’27), Wagner-Carena’s earnest acting offers us a glimpse of what’s under the uncaring persona that teenagers uphold to escape judgment. In Act II, through solos that spotlight the deep isolation of both the popular Heather McNamara and social laughingstock Martha Dunnstock (Jillian E. Vogel ’24), Greene and Vogel elicit compassion with their soaring, emotionally charged voices.

At the same time, characters’ youthfulness sours into reckless selfishness, requiring multifaceted acting. As Veronica and J.D. flirt throughout Act I, Harrington carries a giddiness reflected in Allison’s love-struck smiles. But when Veronica fakes grief over Heather Chandler’s death, Harrington’s smug, simpering tone hints at Veronica’s emerging dark side. Meanwhile, Allison plays J.D. with an escalating violence that never invalidates its counterparts: obsessive teenage love and a vision for a tolerant high school. Both actors seamlessly switch from dark anger to tender idealism, their versatile voices transporting the audience between unease and sympathy — sometimes within the same song.

For a show whose design could be copied from its iconic first iteration without much thought, “Heathers” also exceeds expectations with its innovative costuming, lighting, and blocking. Costume designers Steph S. Brecq ’24 and Al M. Bilski ’25 reimagine the traffic-light uniforms of the Heathers by dressing each of them with a variety of tones that still complement each other. The ensemble’s patterned neutrals allow the bold monochrome colors of the lead and supporting characters to stand out.

Meanwhile, lighting designers Kayla R. Reifel ’26, Jodie Y. Kuo ’26, and Clarissa Briasco-Stewart ’24 switch effectively between typical stage lights and LED strip lights. The latter’s electric look perfectly represents Act II’s explosion, and it adds campy energy to numbers like “Candy Store” and “My Dead Gay Son.” In the climactic song “Meant to Be Yours,” stage lights flood hellish red during J.D.’s manic anger, unearthly white during his recitation of a school-wide suicide note, and sobering blue when he barges in on Veronica’s seemingly dead body. This lighting is creative and versatile, realistic when needed while heightening intensity elsewhere.

Even the blocking of “Heathers” is flawless, taking full advantage of its small cast and three-tier set. Each scene distributes characters across the set to create balance, fill space, and represent relationship dynamics. The last of several exhilarating fight scenes is Veronica and J.D.’s brawl for a gun, which culminates in the former shooting the latter as they embrace on the floor. The intertwined representation of sex, violence, and power jarringly assert that love and coercion can coexist and feed into one another.

While funny, the highly sexual choreography by Adrienne L. Chan ’25 also conveys key ideas. Sexuality is a social commodity, one that upholds the girls’ popularity but exposes them to the constant harassment of Kurt and Ram. The dead Heather Chandler sings “The Me Inside of Me” on her hands and knees, emphasizing her looks as what drive the student body to mythify her. Ms. Fleming’s (Kyra S. Siegel ’25) suggestive gyration while encouraging students to share their trauma on live television signals the perversity of exploiting teenagers. Meanwhile, Kurt and Ram’s physical closeness and phallic gestures hilariously exaggerate toxic masculine relationships and the homoeroticism they tend to suppress.

These acting and design strengths electrify the Act I finale, in which J.D. shoots Kurt and Ram. Kurt breaks from the confines of the stage to run into the aisles, startling the audience during a life-or-death chase. As Veronica staggers with J.D.’s terrifying capacity for violence, he lifts her chin with his gun, guiding her into a stifling embrace that heightens the shock factor to its climax. While the two chant “our love is God,” the strip lights glow to their brightest white, a blinding, destructive, immortal light.

“Heathers” consistently remains on top of its game throughout the show. Pallotta’s production pulls off every joke, note, and beat, while its clever, fresh design enriches the story’s deeper themes. The musical is exceptionally entertaining with its raunchy humor and energetic music, but the nuances of character illustrated in its every choice reassure us that everyone is damaged, complex, and hurting, but may someday open up and come together.

—Staff writer Isabelle A. Lu can be reached at isabelle.lu@thecrimson.com.