The Cinematical Movie Club is a new weekly feature where we pick a film, watch it and then discuss it. Feel free to read our introduction for more info.
Heathers is near and dear to my heart. It marked the first step towards my adult preferences, as I broke out of the kiddie fare and slowly journeyed into the world of more discerning taste. (My pre-teen self thought Grease 2 was a superior film to the original in all ways, people!) I rented the VHS because of my Christian Slater fandom born out of The Legend of Billie Jean and Gleaming the Cube. The Metropolitan trailer tugged me into the world of Whit Stillman and conversational features while the film itself allowed me to discover my deep love of black comedy and well-written banter.
To be fair, the first time I watched it, my friend and I were professing our love for Jason Dean, hoping to keep him from going further down that dark path. But when she went home, I rewound the tape and watched it again. And again. It stuck with me like no other film had. When I was 17 and driving around in my own car, I recorded the entire audio track and would listen to it daily, quickly learning every. single. line. It wasn't, however, mere teen adoration. I was simply enamored by the flow of the words, which may be passed off as merely weird, but rang in my ears like modern, satirical Shakespeare.