#the way heathers is a deliberate dsconstruction of the john hughes format is something that can be so personal

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

actually the fact that Heathers is technically a comedy — both in the classical sense, and in the marketed genre as a dark comedy — makes it sadder. because it's played for funnies, for the drama, for the fatalistic ridiculousness and facial expressions and ironically timed theme music. everyone is a caricature, except for Veronica. she's the one human in a cast of Muppets. and she is very, very real. and she is very, very broken. and because it's a comedy, because it's almost a parody, the weight of the plot is largely ignored. there's a tragic shade to it, in opposition to its narrative function, because Veronica is expected to play into that narrative. she's the real one, and the narrative continues to treat her like a cartoon, like a Muppet. but she's the human, and she's not given the weight of that. she's a final girl, the one left to tell the story, but the narrative doesn't allow for her. the narrative insists on standing by its genre, giving a hollow laugh and fading to black with the comical image of a girl lighting a cigarrette off of a suicide bomb. it's intentionally a John Hughes film gone sour, and the upturned ending is a facade. Heathers is a comedy, yes, but there's a tinge of tragedy to it as well, if you just look beyond the surface