Review: Heathers (1988)




I must admit, I haven’t seen this one prior to its 30th anniversary re-release this year. Yeah, I’ve certainly heard of it before, and while I’ve seen other films with Winona Ryder and Christian Slater, I guess it’s time I saw where both got started. So, guess its time to travel back to the eighties, to a time of casual homophobia and where revolvers could apparently flouted in US high schools with the National Guard descending. It’s dark, it’s funny, it’s Heathers.

Back in 1988, teen high school movies were all the rage, mostly thanks to John Hughes. You had the standard, like the Breakfast Club, then there were the classic comedies, like Ferris Bueller, then you had goofy nonsense like Weird Science. Here, director Michael Lehmann took in the clichés of high school cliques that continue to this day, and turned it into a very black comedy of suicides and murder that, while dark back then, now feels so positively lightless that it goes all the way back to being over-the-top comedic.

Ryder here is a relatively new part of the usual clique of preppy rich girls, going along with the rites of rumor-spreading, pointless pontificating, and playing croquet, because that’s what they do apparently. Soon, she finds herself hooking up with the rebellious, leather-clad, wisecracking rebel JD, played by the eternally rasping Slater…who here is also a sociopathic killer obsessed with faking teen suicides as some loony middle finger to society. Turns out the teen bad boy is so bad he’s also a domestic terrorist.

Back then, the joke was that privileged rich prep students like that had no reason to commit elaborate suicide—now, in a post-Columbine world, this feels more like some sort of satire of the way both media and culture reacts and feeds these sorts of things. The teachers in the school either ignore or exploit this, the students either soon become apathetic or just desensitized to it all…sound familiar at all? Had it been made now, the really blunt and over the top it’s shown would be called tasteless, but being a product of thirty years ago, you can reframe it for the current era in a way that makes it all the more interesting to watch.

Of course, being a product of its time, comes the usual baggage. There’s casual use of homophobic slurs and homosexuality jokes where it’s not quite clear if they’re satirizing homophobia or jabbing at gay people. It’s the eighties, needless to say there were many teething pains in that regard. Of course, the worst of it in this film comes from lunatics like JD, the meathead football jocks, or the inexplicably pot-smoking cops, so you can take it as you like.

Still, I can’t say I didn’t find it darkly funny, and considering it’s been remade as a TV show and more recently a musical, I feel my point about the themes and jokes resonating now, if in a different way than the filmmakers intended, stands. It takes kicks at the teen movies of its time and then further twists those—sure, we might all want to see the alpha prep girl get taken down a peg by means of grisly murder, but then as things escalate and Slater cranks up the mania in his performance, those emotions get al the more uncomfortable and questionable. It’s that sort of aspect of the film that I think does hold up.

So, you can watch it as a time capsule of the late eighties, or see it as a dark comment on contemporary issues. If you haven’t seen it, I’d say it’s at least worth a watch for the historical value, and to see where the current iterations come from. And, of course, for one of Slater’s first and best highlights—one he certainly wouldn’t reach when he was sinking to starring in Uwe Boll flicks…but I’m getting ahead of myself. Grab a croquet stick and give it a shot.

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