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Mean Girls is gay now. At least that’s what the press about the new movie musical indicates. 

It’s not an inaccurate assessment. Though Damian was always gay, in this iteration, Jaquel Spivey brings his larger-than-life Broadway flair to the role. The biggest change is the character of Janis, played by the talented Auli'i Cravalho. In the 2004 film, the gossip about Janis (Lizzy Caplin) is that she’s a lesbian, but she puts this rumor to bed by dating Kevin G (Rajiv Surendra) in the epilogue. In the new movie, Janis is gay for real, and thus the rumors are not really rumors anymore.

Spivey and Cravalho bring a lot to their roles, which haven’t changed all that much since 2004. Spivey’s Damian is unapologetic in his flamboyance, as is this updated Janis. Cravalho is well-cast in the role. Her vocals are first-rate, but it’s the indignant swagger she brings to the character that makes this new Janis shine. We’ve seen Cravalho excel before in the teen comedy genre with the adorable rom-com Crush, and here she again embodies that charming blend of audacity and vulnerability. 

Apart from the fact that Angourie Rice (Cady) doesn’t have the vocal skills required to be in a musical, all of the new cast members are great, bringing energy and charisma to these iconic characters. But do the roles themselves do the actors justice? When you get to know the cast, the unfulfilled potential becomes apparent.  

Take, for example, Reneé Rapp, who plays Regina George in the new film. Queer fans have long thought that Regina George is a lesbian, and with Rapp playing the role, this headcannon seems even more likely. And then there’s Rapp’s original song for the film, which features Megan Thee Stallion. “Not My Fault” is an explicitly sapphic anthem and quotes a line from the original film, embodying Regina’s mean girl attitude from a queer point of view. (“Can a gay girl get an amen?” read the lyrics.)

Despite these connections, Regina isn’t queer in the 2024 movie, at least not on the script level. Still, canon or not, Rapp has maintained time and time again in interviews that she thinks Regina is a lesbian, a claim fans are more likely to buy into since Rapp is queer herself. She even admitted to arguing with people on Instagram about it and telling them “Shut up. Be mad” when they questioned her. So how do we square that with what we see on film?

Rapp gives a captivating performance in Mean Girls, but she’s just as charismatic when not playing a role. Watching interviews with Rapp and the cast, it becomes obvious that the movie is gayer behind the scenes than it is on screen. Rapp’s outsized personality has driven much of the narrative about the film, particularly regarding its queer elements. She’s spent most of the press tour telling the world how much of a crush she has on Rachel McAdams, who she wants to star in a romantic film with. 

She insists that every character she plays has the same identity as her and suggested “If you’re putting like really really sick like gay and queer people into a cast, it’s inherently going to be gay and very cool.” Her co-stars have chimed in with their own thoughts about the film’s queer resonances. Avantika, who (hilariously) plays Karen, added that the film “just embraces the fact that everyone feels a little queer” and claims that Karen is pansexual. “This is the world that we’re in, so might as well show it on screen,” Cravalho maintains. 

But is all of that really captured in the movie? Writer Tina Fey told the New York Times that Janis and Regina’s dynamic is the most interesting relationship in the film, and she’s not wrong. The new movie slightly updates their history. In the musical, Regina is initially supportive of Janis’ sexuality but then later makes fun of her behind her back, leading Janis to (accidentally) light her backpack on fire and earning her the moniker “pyro lez.” Regina/Janis shippers will be interested to know they once kissed during a game of Spin the Bottle, but Regina teased Janis about how into it she was. Their relationship has always felt charged – it could easily be read as a lesbian who is in love with her straight best friend and/or a popular girl who is secretly closeted – and that hasn’t changed. 

Leaving those unspoken elements of their relationship unaddressed feels like a missed opportunity, particularly when you take into account how gung-ho the young cast is about teasing out the film’s queer potential. Online, fans have loved picking out moments between Rapp and Cravalho in interviews that come off as flirty, with one X user commenting “The queer romcom potential is scorching hot.” Though Rapp maintains any film starring queer actors is inherently queer – not an outlandish claim to make, to be fair – the disparity between the film’s discourse and its canonical text is notable.

Some of this dissonance here is the result of Fey’s efforts to sanitize the new film, smoothing over or excising the elements that might be deemed problematic today. Gone is the storyline about Coach Carr sleeping with his students and the racial segregation of the lunchroom, as is some of the saltier language. (No one is called a whore, and no one asks Cady if she would like her muffin buttered.) 

The Plastics call Janis a pyro lez rather than a dyke, even though ‘lez’ doesn’t exactly feel like a contemporary update. There’s less outright homophobia – Fey suggested that modern Regina would know homophobia isn’t cool – but the “too gay to function” catchphrase is kept in, as is Cady’s ultimate ‘Plastification’ line: “It's not my fault you're, like, in love with me or something.” The latter quote feels out of place considering the film’s insistence that things have changed in the last 20 years. It’s one of several instances where the movie feels temporally disjointed.

In an optimistic turn, Mean Girls attempts to illustrate the fact that in 2024, queer kids like Janis and Damian can live their truths publicly. Damian has a crush on a boy in his class, and they dance together at homecoming. Janis wears a suit to the dance and takes a girl as her date. But these characters only appear on screen for seconds and neither of them has any lines. In some ways, the film feels like a Disney-fied version of a movie that was originally quite biting. It’s sweet, but not exactly provocative.

When you watch the cast together – laughing and joking like the Gen Z queers they are – you realize how much of that culture isn’t captured in the new film. These actors do a lot with their performances, yet the script still falls flat more than once. Rapp shines as Regina and it’s easy to believe she would be the Queen Bee, though if the film had actually harnessed her IRL chaotic queer energy, we could have had something special. 

The fact that Rapp and Cravalho are beloved in large part because they are so out and proud is a heartening indication of the era we’re in. Films like Mean Girls are trying to catch up to this new reality, but they haven’t quite gotten there yet. Movies are always behind the curve when it comes to responding to cultural shifts, so this is no surprise. Until then, fans will keep cheering for more.