Review: Heathers the Musical at Her Majesty’s Theatre

Welcome to Westerberg High, where popularity is a blood sport, scrunchies are weapons of mass destruction, and the only thing sharper than the shoulder pads are the one-liners.

Heathers has always walked a dangerous tightrope between outrageous comedy and uncomfortable truth, and this new Australian and New Zealand staging struts across it in red croquet heels without ever missing a step.

It’s wickedly funny, gleefully irreverent and just the right amount of unhinged. But beneath the acerbic satire, blue slushies and body count lies a surprisingly poignant tale about belonging, identity and the desperate need to be seen. This fresh interpretation understands that balance perfectly, delivering all the dark humour audiences crave while never losing sight of the humanity beating beneath the blazer.

Directed by Andy Fickman, this staging knows exactly what it wants to be. Every scene moves with confidence, never allowing the frenetic pace to overwhelm the emotional moments. The comedy lands with sniper-like precision, but what impresses most is the willingness to let the quieter scenes breathe. The show hurtles along at breakneck speed, yet never feels rushed, a testament to a creative team that trusts both the material and its performers.

When the laughter stops, the audience is left sitting with the consequences, and that’s where this production really earns its stripes.

Gary Lloyd’s choreography deserves a standing ovation of its own. It’s athletic, character-driven and bursting with personality, capturing the awkwardness, arrogance and anxiety of teenage life in every movement. Whether it’s the lusciously mean swagger of Candy Store, the brilliantly chaotic antics of You’re Welcome, or the jubilant release of Seventeen (Reprise), every routine feels purposeful. Nothing exists simply because it’s a dance break, every step tells the story.

Musically, the production couldn’t be in safer hands. Under the musical direction of Martine Rengrow, Laurence O’Keefe and Kevin Murphy’s score absolutely soars. Vocally, the company is first-rate, with lush harmonies, powerhouse ensemble work and a band that drives the show with relentless energy while never overpowering the performers.

The lighting is slick, cinematic and wonderfully atmospheric, effortlessly shifting from fluorescent high school corridors to the darker corners of Veronica’s conscience. The sound design is equally impressive. Heathers is packed with witty lyrics, rapid-fire dialogue and enormous ensemble harmonies, and every word is crystal clear. In a show where every lyric matters, that clarity elevates the storytelling.

Speaking of cafeterias…

The ensemble is sensational.

It’s easy to focus on the principal cast in a show like Heathers, but this company proves that Westerberg High wouldn’t exist without every student roaming its halls. Every ensemble member creates an individual character, reacting, gossiping, judging and celebrating with total commitment. They’re funny, vocally exceptional and constantly alive, making every corridor, classroom and funeral feel authentic. They don’t just fill the stage, they fuel it.

Among the supporting cast are some absolute gems.

Zoe Gertz is a delight as the relentlessly optimistic Ms Fleming, who somehow believes a trust exercise can solve teenage trauma. Her comic, and improvisational instincts are impeccable, and Shine a Light is gloriously over-the-top, delivered with such unwavering sincerity that it becomes even funnier.

One of the biggest laughs of the night belongs to Ellis Dolan and Brodie Masini as Ram and Kurt’s fathers in My Dead Gay Son. The pair embrace every ounce of the song’s absurdity while grounding it with genuine warmth, creating one of the funniest and most unexpectedly touching moments of the evening.

As Martha Dunnstock, Mel O’Brien provides the emotional soul of the show. Martha could easily become a caricature, but O’Brien gives her remarkable sincerity and quiet dignity. Her rendition of Kindergarten Boyfriend is tender, vulnerable and quietly devastating, reminding us that beneath all the satire sits a story about people longing to belong.

As Westerberg’s resident jocks, David Cuny (Ram Sweeney) and Nic van Lits (Kurt Kelly) are superb. Bursting with misplaced confidence, ridiculous bravado and endless scene stealing energy, the pair share effortless chemistry throughout the show. Their performance of You’re Welcome is a standout, balancing outrageous humour with whip smart timing and never missing a beat.

The Heathers are equally compelling.

Amelia Rojas delivers a terrific transformation as Heather Duke, evolving from overlooked follower to ruthless queen bee. Her performance of Never Shut Up Again is packed with attitude and sinister energy, making Duke’s rise to power both satisfying and unsettling.

Abigail Sharp brings warmth and vulnerability to Heather McNamara, ensuring she becomes far more than the stereotypical “nice Heather”. Her rendition of Lifeboat is a poignant reminder that popularity doesn’t protect you from loneliness.

And then there is the undeniable force of Calista Nelmes’ Heather Chandler, a performance that reminds us exactly why this character has become one of musical theatre’s most iconic mean girls.

From the moment she sweeps onto the stage in that unmistakable red blazer, Nelmes completely owns Westerberg High. Fierce, funny and dripping with charisma, she dominates Candy Store, commanding every eye in the theatre with effortless authority. She perfectly captures Chandler’s intoxicating mix of glamour, cruelty and razor-sharp wit, ensuring that even after her character’s departure, Heather Chandler’s influence hangs over the show like perfectly applied red lipstick that refuses to fade.

As JD, Conor Beaumont delivers a deeply compelling performance that never settles for easy answers. His Freeze Your Brain is understated and quietly magnetic, drawing Veronica, and everyone watching, into his world. As the narrative darkens, Our Love Is God reveals increasingly disturbing layers before Beaumont unleashes a thrillingly volatile Meant to Be Yours, charting JD’s psychological spiral with exceptional control. It’s a performance that’s equal parts charming, unsettling and heartbreaking.

And finally…

Standing at the centre of this exceptional company is Emma Caporaso, whose Veronica Sawyer is captivating from her first entrance to her final bow, effortlessly balancing deliciously biting comedy with genuine emotional depth.

Veronica is one of contemporary musical theatre’s most demanding leading ladies. She needs to be funny without becoming flippant, vulnerable without becoming passive, and vocally fearless while carrying the emotional weight of the entire show. Emma somehow makes it all look effortless.

From her opening moments in Beautiful, she creates a Veronica who feels instantly recognisable, not a heroine, not an outcast, but simply a teenage girl trying to survive high school with her sanity intact. It’s a finely observed performance that allows the audience to fall in love with her long before the story takes its darker turns.

Vocally, Caporaso is magnificent.

A powerhouse, navigating the score’s soaring belt, intimate storytelling and relentless stamina with apparent ease.

Fight for Me bursts with youthful excitement, Dead Girl Walking is fearless, electric and vocally sensational, Seventeen is tender and deeply moving, while I Say No becomes one of the evening’s defining moments. It isn’t simply sung, it is lived. Every lyric lands with conviction, every emotional beat feels earned, and every note reminds us we’re watching an artist completely in command of her craft.

What makes Emma’s performance so exceptional isn’t just the voice, although that alone would be worth the ticket price. It’s the honesty. She never chases the joke or forces the emotion. Every laugh, every tear and every triumph feels genuinely earned.

She simply is Veronica.

And by the final curtain, you couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing the blue blazer.

This production doesn’t just understand why Heathers has become a cult favourite, it reminds us why it continues to resonate with every new generation. It’s outrageously funny, darkly twisted and surprisingly moving, brought to life by a world-class creative team and a cast that throws itself into every moment with fearless commitment.

And unlike a questionable cup of Westerberg High cafeteria coffee, you’ll be thinking about it long after you’ve left the building.

Just remember…

It’s all fun and games until someone hands you a blue slushie.

5 stars

Lia Loves.