“Mean Girls” returns to theatres with some fetch songs and performances in a new version that updates the story of high school cliques and comeuppance for a new generation.
Angourie Rice plays teenager Cady Heron, the role made famous by Lindsay Lohan in the original film. Homeschooled in Kenya by her zoologist mother (Jenna Fischer), she experiences culture shock when thrown into the wilds of the North Shore High School in suburban Illinois. Helping her to navigate the school’s treacherous social structure are Janis ‘Imi’ike (Auliʻi Cravalho) and Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey), who also serve as the story’s narrators.
They tell her about the school’s various cliques, the theatre kids, the Matheletes, the stoners and, Regina George (Reneé Rapp) and sycophants Gretchen (Bebe Wood) and Karen (Avantika), the popular girls known as the Plastics, because they’re “shiny, fake and hard.”
Regina is the undisputed leader of the group, a sharp-tongued meanie (“Her love language is anger,” says Gretchen.) who sings, “I am a massive deal. I will grind you to sand, beneath my Louboutin heel.” The Plastics embrace the unassuming Cady, inviting her to join their group. “You could be really hot,” says Regina, “if you change, like, everything.”
Just as Cady is getting tight with her new friends, she falls head-over-heels for Aaron (Christopher Briney), the cute boy who sits in front of her in calculus class. “I’m astounded and non-plussed,” she sings. “I am filled with calcu-lust.”
Trouble is, Aaron is Regina’s ex, and, as such, makes Cady a target for the full fury of the school’s apex predator. With the help of Janis and Damian, Cady launches a preemptive strike to unseat Regina as high school queen bee, but soon realizes she has become just like her enemy.
The new musical “Mean Girls,” and it is very much a musical despite what the talky trailers suggest, holds up well in comparison to the classic, original film. Many of the same elements appear. Tina Fey and Tim Meadows both reprise their roles, the Burn Book is a key plot element and the hierarchy of high school life is very clearly and effectively defined. What’s different are the updates in the film’s deft handling of diversity, the open discussions of sexuality and, of course, the showtunes.
The songs are nicely integrated into the story. Co-directors Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. find a balance between the stage and the screen, blending highly stylized dance moves straight out of Broadway with a cinematic, and occasionally, even social media spin on the cinematography and choreography. That, mixed with an enthusiastic theatre kids vibe, allows the songs to forward the story, act as the inner thoughts of the characters and give Janis and Damian some tuneful narration opportunities.
Standouts include Rapp, who recreates the role from the original Broadway run, and Cravalho, best known for providing the voice of the title character in Disney’s “Moana.” Both deliver powerhouse performances, although Avantika’s spirited rendition of the Halloween tune “Sexy” is probably the film’s most memorable number.
“Mean Girls,” from its beginnings as Rosalind Wiseman’s 2002 book “Queen Bees and Wannabes,” through to Tina Fey’s film and stage adaptation, connected with audiences because of its authentic portrayal of high school life. The new version, adds more than just songs to the source material. It’s a joyful celebration of self-respect, anti-bullying and even the importance of STEM-based education. It has plenty of Easter Eggs for fans of the first film but has plenty to offer to all fans, old and new.
The only thing worse than someone who says, “I had the craziest dream last night,” and then tells you all about it is… well, hardly anything. There are few things worse than suffering through a disjointed story that barely makes sense to the teller and absolutely no sense to you.
But, just imagine if everyone, family, friends, strangers, told you about their dreams, because you were in them. Every single one of them. That’s the nightmarish idea behind “Dream Scenario,” a new “Twilight Zonesque” Nicolas Cage social satire, now playing in theatres.
Cage plays humdrum evolutionary biology professor Paul Matthews. He’s an unexceptional, almost invisible man, mocked by his students and colleagues at work and a sad sack at home with possessive wife Janet (Julianne Nicholson) and two teen daughters.
His unremarkable life is made noteworthy when inexplicably, he begins to appear in the dreams of millions of people.
He’s viral all over the world, except, tellingly, in the nighttime visions of his wife. Why not? “Because you get the real deal,” he says to her. “It wouldn’t be fair to get both.”
“Why me?” he asks. “I don’t know. I’m special I guess.”
Trouble is, he doesn’t do anything special in the dreams. He mostly just appears in the background, watching unresponsively as strange things happen to the dreamer. “He occupies the space like an awkward guest at a party,” says one dreamer.
As his fame grows, it brings with it some unexpected repercussions for the unassuming Paul. “You know,” says Sidney (Marc Coppola), “fame can come with some less desirable side effects. You should be prepared for that.” At first, he almost enjoys the intense glare of the spotlight, but when his presence in the dreams goes from passive to active, and he becomes as repugnant to the public as he was once popular.
“Dream Scenario” does feature some surreal dream sequences, but it’s not really about dreams. It’s about life as a modern, viral celebrity, on display in the unblinking eye of the public, social media and cancel culture.
Cage plays Paul as a man who claims to love his anonymity, but fights a former colleague for credit when she alludes to one of his thirty-year-old theories in an academic paper, and, when fame comes, he’ll pose with anyone who wants a selfie. He’s tired of being invisible, but wants fame on his own terms. But, as the movie ably points out, fame is a three-headed hydra, untamable and uncontrollable.
It’s a perfect role for Cage’s sensibility. As Paul’s life switches from dreamlike to nightmarish, Cage embraces the tragicomic elements of the role—a man who can’t live up to expectations in real life or dream life—and pulls off a great trick by making a forgettable man memorable.
“Dream Scenario” is a clever, timely film that details everything from mid-life crisis and cancel culture to viral fame and social media marketing in a bizarre, funny and thought-provoking way.
“For Madmen Only: The Stories of Del Close,” a new documentary now on VOD, is about the best-known funny man you’ve probably never heard of. Tina Fey says he taught her to be bold in life. Mike Myers says he learned the connection between comedy and bigger ideas from him and Robin Williams campaigns for a Church of Del. Del Close is called a living legend by Amy Poehler and yet, as the movie says, this Zelig of comedy has the same name recognition as a third-tier fast food chain.
As one of the pioneers of a new kind of theatre called improvisational comedy Close, along with a handful of others like Elaine May (who close calls a supernatural figure) and Mike Nichols, created the form and the rules of performing comedy without a net. Some were intellectual. “Always work at the top of your intelligence,” and “Don’t deny, respect the other person’s reality.” Others practical. “Remember where the object are,” and “Don’t do mime.” Most important of all, “You’re not locked into this like an actor with a script.”
Using recorded interviews with Close, who died of emphysema at age 64 in 1999, and newer interviews with many of his friends and students, like the names I listed above and Tim Meadows, George Wendt, Bob Odenkirk among others, plus recreations, (which have a “Closeness” about them because director Heather Ross based on Close’s autobiographical comic “Wasteland”), and archival footage and photographs, a story emerges of a self-destructive rebel who put human nature onstage in an attempt to explore why we behave the way we do.
By the end of the film, it’s a portrait of a complicated man whose window into human nature was both a gift and a curse. He was, as Dave Thomas describes him, “a delicate basket of eggs destined to break at any moment.” He was brilliant, but as Adam McKay points out, also a “bit of a baby sometimes.”
What remains is his pioneering work teaching improv (with a big leg up from Charna Halpern). His “Harold” teaching method, the structure used in longform improvisational theatre, is both rigid—there are a set of strict rules—but also freeing in a way that made his students, as Myers says, “get in touch with their higher selves.”
“You have a light within you,” he would tell them. “Burn it out.”
You can draw a straight line from Close to most folks who have made you laugh in the last thirty years. He was a guru, who never reaped the rewards or the recognition many of his students enjoyed but the film aims to correct the latter.
As often happens in biographies, the legend sometimes looms larger than life. Did he really give L. Ron Hubbard the idea to start a religion to circumvent taxes? Did he really volunteer to have his dreams monitored by the US government while high on LSD, leave the project early and then sent a letter saying he owed the government one more dream?
Who knows? They’re good stories though. Fact and fiction, it seems are the two sides of the coin that inform the legend of Del Close.
