If you ever wondered what might happen if Mean Girls and Sweeney Todd shared a locker at Westerberg High, you’ll find your answer in “Heathers: The Musical” now playing in the Studio Theater at the Long Beach Playhouse through November 16.
Under the sharp direction of Sean Gray, this compact and wickedly funny production proves that the cult-classic film still has a pulse— and quite a dark one at that.
What makes this show tick is its ability to lean into the outrageousness without losing sight of the pain underneath. That’s a hard line to walk, especially in a venue as intimate as the Studio Theater, where the audience sits close enough to see the tremor in a hand or the smirk before a scheme.
Gray keeps the energy taut, Stephen Olear’s music direction keeps the vocals bright and punchy, and Sonya Randall’s choreography squeezes every inch of attitude out of the limited space.
The result feels claustrophobic in just the right way — like being trapped inside the fluorescent hellscape of high school itself.
Arystaysha West makes a terrific Veronica Sawyer, delivering that mix of self-awareness and desperation that gives the show its beating heart. She sings with bite and finds humor in Veronica’s slow moral unraveling. As J.D., Quinn Vann brings a slick menace to the part; he’s more seductive philosopher than straight-up sociopath, which makes his spiral all the more chilling.
Among the Heathers, Harper O’Loughlin as Heather Chandler sets the tone early — her every line crackles with venom and comic timing. Kacey Oschack’s Heather McNamara and Journie Ma-Johnson’s Heather Duke both find surprising texture in roles that can easily become caricature, and Alana Ruhe’s Martha brings the night’s most grounded, vulnerable performance, her voice pure and aching in “Kindergarten Boyfriend.”
The men of Westerberg hold their own as well. Zavier Davis and Mitchell Dambrowski are hilarious as the overinflated jocks Ram and Kurt, and Milo Cote and Caleb White shine in their ensemble of dads, coaches, and teachers, each leaning into the show’s absurdist humor. Amanda Webb juggles multiple comic roles—including Veronica’s mother and the terminally chipper Ms. Fleming—without missing a beat.
Technically, the show is tight if occasionally uneven.
Sadly, a few microphones seemed to come and go, and the balance between the live band and vocals sometimes tipped toward chaos. But this cast sings through the static with gusto, and the ensemble sound is especially strong in numbers like “Big Fun” and “Shine a Light.” The set, designed as a single high school hallway, proves remarkably effective.
Rather than changing locations, the same corridor appears throughout the evening with only slight shifts in furniture or props. It’s a smart choice: in “Heathers,” every act of cruelty, confession, and chaos seems to circle back to those same linoleum floors and locker-lined walls. The unchanging backdrop underscores the show’s central truth — that for all the body count and costume changes, no one ever really leaves high school behind.
There’s always a risk with Heathers that its satire gets lost in the laughter — that audiences leave humming the tunes but miss the critique of cruelty that lies beneath the glitter. Gray’s production mostly dodges that trap. It’s self-aware without being smug, allowing the ugliness of teenage hierarchy to poke through the humor.
When the final moments arrive, the laughter catches in the throat just enough to remind us that even the funniest high-school nightmares have real bodies behind them. Perhaps, alongside the trigger warnings in the lobby, LBP list information for resources if someone is depressed and feeling hopeless — just a thought.
“Heathers: The Musical” at the Long Beach Playhouse doesn’t try to reinvent the show — it sharpens it. It’s a fast, funny, and surprisingly heartfelt night of theatre, packed with young talent and pulsing with the kind of manic energy that makes live performance feel electric.
If you remember the film, you’ll grin at the references; if you don’t, you’ll still recognize the world. Either way, this version of “Heathers” is a class you won’t mind repeating.
If you go
Where: Long Beach Playhouse, 5021 E Anaheim St.
When: Through Nov. 16.
Cost: Tickets start at $20.
Info: lbplayhouse.org.