The Broadway adaptation defangs its best characters in a misguided effort to appeal to a new generation of viewers.

Paramount’s new version of Tina Fey’s cult classic Mean Girls boasts a tagline many Millennials found downright offensive upon debut: “This ain’t your mother’s Mean Girls!” The movie, based on the Broadway musical adapted from the original 2004 film, makes it abundantly clear that it’s aimed directly at Gen Z from its very opening moments, which look like a vertical phone video straight out of TikTok. Fey, the writer of both versions of Mean Girls, hasn’t been without her fair share of controversies over the twenty years since the first film premiered. In a clear effort to avoid upsetting younger audience members who have grown up with more sensitive media, Fey kneecaps many of her own best jokes. The updated script is a wobbly attempt to satisfy fans of the original without offending newcomers. The set-ups where there used to be jokes still remain, but they’re empty husks strung together by mostly forgettable songs. Though not without its unique charms, the musical Mean Girls is glaringly unfunny.

The music, written by Fey’s husband and frequent creative collaborator Jeff Richmond, does little to make up for the chasms where cutting punchlines have been removed. Richmond can write excellent, hilarious songs like the ones in 30 Rock and Girls5eva, but his compositions here are basic and feel uninspired. Most of the sincere songs revolve around bland messages about self-esteem that lack any insight into the actual emotional experiences of teenage girls. Emo outcast Janis ‘Imi’ike (Auli’i Cravalho, Moana), formerly a supporting character, gets what feels like four separate songs about the power of Being Yourself. Only “Sexy,” a playful number about Halloween costumes performed by ditzy beauty Karen Shetty (Avantika), stands out. 

Kyle Hanagami’s athletic choreography is difficult to follow, but only because the movie insists on using a jerky, handheld camera style for the majority of the runtime. Co-directors Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. rarely linger on anything for more than a moment, even during the most heartfelt songs. The camera keeps rushing us on, shakily pressing into the actors’ faces at queasy angles. It feels like watching an Internet video, for better or for worse. By the end of the movie, the over-reliance on social media-style clips feels gimmicky and visually exhausting. When the camera isn’t being tossed around like a borrowed iPhone, it’s spinning around the actors in dizzying circles. 

The constant cutting away to incredibly fast-paced montages of fake social media videos, most of which only last a second or two, also detracts from the performers, who are already fumbling their way through a ghost town of a comedy screenplay. One can practically hear the deleted punchlines echoing in the pauses between the lines. These girls are supposed to be mean, but “She’s a scum-sucking life ruiner” just doesn’t have the same bite as “She’s a scum-sucking road whore.” “Fugly slut” has become “fugly cow.” The music of the language is gone, making every line sound flat. Even fairly tame jokes that prodded at identity— like Karen’s deadpan “If you’re from Africa, why are you white?”— have been eliminated. An attempt at a fresh, revived sense of humor for the characters isn’t a bad idea on its face, and there are some genuinely offensive jokes in the 2004 version that didn’t need to see the light of day. But Fey’s reluctance to kill her darlings— or disappoint the rabid fanbase— means that the musical never really finds its own comedy style. There are even some modern meta jokes commenting on being in a musical, which chips away at the suspension of disbelief generally considered a necessity for the genre.

Angourie Rice had big stilettos to fill, stepping into Lindsey Lohan’s role as new girl Cady Heron. Rice boasts an impressive resume of her own, making scene-stealing turns in films like The Nice Guys and Spider-Man: Homecoming. Her comedy pedigree is often wasted here, though she makes the most of what she’s given. Actor-slash-popstar Reneé Rapp (The Sex Lives of College Girls) makes a curiously subdued queen bee. If Rachel McAdams’ Regina George seemed to be constantly scheming, Rapp’s version feels a bit too cool for it all. Cravalho, as Janis, has a gorgeous voice, but it’s hard to buy this former Disney Princess as an offbeat punk. It doesn’t help that all of Janis’ edges have been sanded down to the point of softness. In fact, every character has been made into a gentler version of themselves. It’s no wonder that only Avantika’s wide-eyed, guileless Karen and Broadway star Jacques Spivey’s tenderhearted Damien, the boy who is “too gay to function,” stand out. We’re often told by the screenplay that all the other characters are cold and cruel, but most of the insults exchanged onscreen wouldn’t be too harsh for a Disney Channel sitcom. 

There’s nothing to the production design that particularly stands out, besides the cheap-looking, ugly costumes that went viral when the trailer premiered online. A few costumes that clearly nod to the original remain, and they are ironically some of the freshest and most fashionable of the bunch. Didn’t anyone tell costume designer Tom Broecker (SNL, House of Cards) that Y2K fashion is having a moment? Then again, it may have been hard to give any of the visual elements a fair shake, given the way the camera trembles past every scene as if it’s strapped to a sixth-grader’s backpack. 

Mean Girls boldly asks a question once posed by another one of Tina Fey’s works, 30 Rock: “How do you do, fellow kids?” Maybe this naked attempt to pander to their interests will resonate with Gen Z. Still, there’s more to holding teens’ attention than slapping together some vertical videos and onscreen texts. The original film had such an indelible comic voice that memes of the best lines have circulated for 20 years. The new version lacks that wit entirely. Perhaps it’s not so surprising, then, that the teens at this reviewer’s screening spent the entire runtime on their phones.

Mean Girls dances its way into theaters on January 12th, 2024.

Mean Girls Trailer: