Canberra Reviews

This is the third production of Heathers the Musical I’ve seen. I went with my 17-year-old, who came with me the other two times as well. We. Love. This. Show.

He loves the musical first. He knows the different casts, the songs, all the choices that have accumulated around the show over the years. I love the 1989 film first. This distinction became fairly important. Because my 17-year-old couldn’t fault this production. And I kept thinking: but what if you did something different?

There is an enormous amount to admire here. The cast is exceptional. The choreography is precise and beautifully executed. The lighting is gorgeous. The whole thing moves with extraordinary confidence and energy.

I really didn’t expect Kurt (Nic Van Lits) and Heather Chandler (Calista Nelmes) to be my favourites, but they absolutely were. These performers were IN IT. Every second. Completely committed, completely alive and incredibly enigmatic. Nelmes in particular was magnetic. I kept watching her even when I probably wasn’t supposed to be watching her. Which made me want more.

Once these characters are (spoiler alert) dead, why not let them haunt the entire bloody show? Let them crawl over walls, lurk in corners, invade Veronica’s world. With performers this good, I wanted the production to get a little weirder.

And perhaps that gets to my one frustration with this Heathers. How faithful does a production of a cult musical need to be to the productions that came before it? Everything works beautifully. But it’s also very familiar. Surely it’s possible to honour the source material while still messing with it a little. For starters, I would happily never see that balcony again.

J.D. (Conor Beaumont) and Veronica (Emma Caporaso) are both beautifully performed, but perhaps this is where my love of the film gets in the way. I wanted a little more time to fall for J.D. before he horrified me, and a little more darkness underneath Veronica’s sweetness.

Heather McNamara (Abigail Sharp) was my teenager’s highlight, bringing joy and lightness to the production alongside a cracking solo. The teacher is another standout, particularly in her second-act monologue, where we glimpse something more complicated underneath the caricature.

And then there’s Martha Dunnstock (Mel O'Brien).

In 2026, do we still need the sad hair, bum bag and pastel mismatched tracksuit to tell us who the unpopular fat girl is? Surely Martha can remain Martha without reproducing exactly the same visual joke.

But perhaps the best review of the night came from the person beside me. My 17-year-old thought it was basically perfect. So much so that he spent an entire week’s wages from his part-time job on the jacket.Perhaps that says everything.

I just wanted this brilliant cast to be allowed to get a little weirder. Let Heather Chandler climb the walls. Let J.D. seduce us before he horrifies us. Give Martha some more respect.

And please. Lose the bloody balcony.