Tag: lacey chabert

In 2023, Wal-Mart has so “generously” allowed us to catch a glimpse into the lives of where the mean girls from 2004 are now. Not only that, but this version of 2023 ostensibly exists in an alternate realm where the name Karen (and Karen Smith, no less) isn’t something worthy of calling attention to. Not at any point during the extremely lengthy commercial (almost a full two minutes [an “epic” in the realm of advertising], which means Wal-Mart really shelled out for it). Though there were plenty of other “plot points” that attention was called to in terms of assessing where some of the Mean Girls characters have ended up. And, let’s just say it, the assumptions to be made are rather grim. 

For a start, Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan) is still hanging out with Gretchen (Lacey Chabert) and Karen (Amanda Seyfried). Are we really to believe that Cady would have remained friends with anyone from The Plastics (particularly since she informs viewers at the end of the movie, “In case you’re wondering, The Plastics broke up”)? And if one person was worth remaining friends with, wouldn’t it have been Regina? If for no other reason than she had a mind of her own. Or, as Damian (Daniel Franzese) said, “She’s the queen bee, the star. Those other two are just her little workers.” Later on in Mean Girls, Cady marvels, “Was I the new queen bee?” It seems that, for the purposes of this Wal-Mart commercial, yes, she is. Even if she’s now a guidance counselor. Arguably one of the bleakest aspects about this flash forward to the mean girls’ future. That, and it seems that Janis Ian (Lizzy Caplan) isn’t friends with her or Damian anymore, having likely moved on to bigger and better things outside of the Chicago area. 

Perhaps this is why Cady has resorted to a continued friendship with Gretchen and Karen. The latter of whom appears to be doing a “weather report” for no one’s benefit but her own—and yeah, it’s a bit sad that she’s still skulking around the high school to do it. They should have at least shown her doing “weather” for a local channel, and maybe even alluding to the climate change factors that have become unignorable in the years since 2004. Though, somehow, the next scene transition occurs by showing Karen on the big screen of Kevin Gnapoor’s (Rajiv Surendra) living room, even though it would make no sense for Karen to broadcast from North Shore High School if she was a legitimate “weather girl.”

But that’s not supposed to be the viewer’s focus as the camera whip-pans to Kevin’s son holding a twenty-five-dollar (because of course the price flashes on the screen) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles RC in his hands (with a Hot Wheels and Barbie box in the background, to boot). After all, it’s so important that Generation Alpha understands the importance of material goods, too. That job has already been done on Gen Z, who, although positioned as “climate-conscious” and “embracing of all sexual and ethnic identifications,” ain’t really none of that based on what one actually sees outside of think pieces concerning said birth cohort. Kevin then half-heartedly tells his son, “Don’t let the haters stop you from doing your thang, Kevin Jr.,” as though he has little will left to believe that himself. And clearly, if Janis isn’t in this scene, it means she dumped his ass along with Cady and Damian’s, too. 

As for Gretchen, she’s apparently been a young mom since roughly 2007 (if we’re to believe her daughter is sixteen, and Mean Girls came out in 2004, when Gretchen would have been sixteen herself). Not only does she have a high school-age daughter named Amber who seems more Regina than Gretchen, she also has two younger kids as well. All of whom are Asian, though there’s no sign of the Asian husband she presumably married as a result of immersing herself in an Asian clique at the end of Mean Girls (this being a hyper-specific detail for the Wal-Mart commercial to include). 

Cady’s life also appears rather empty based on her purchases of “Apple AirPods and Legos,” though that doesn’t seem to stop one stalker-y student from wanting to imitate that purchase the way Bethany Byrd (Stefanie Drummond) did with Regina George’s Army pants and flip flops. It’s never really made clear if Cady does have kids of her own (hence, the reason for buying Legos?), but it is clear that she has no compunction about displaying a pathetic mug on her desk that reads, “Best Guidance Counselor Ever.” Perhaps this level of patheticness is her karma for calling Ms. Norbury (Tina Fey) a “sad old drug pusher” back when she was a student instead of a “teacher.” And maybe her additional karma for all that high school fuckery was not ending up with Aaron Samuels (Jonathan Bennett), who is nowhere to be found…perhaps because the real-life Aaron Samuels turned out to be gay (which is why he was more willing to appear as that character in Ariana Grande’s “thank u, next” video). 

Nonetheless, Cady does her best to maintain “plucky” narrations as she remarks, “Even as the guidance counselor, I was still getting schooled.” Yes, by the Gen Z tits who are even more asshole-ish than millennials were (this despite the former’s reputation for “tolerance”). So while Gretchen appears to have an absentee Asian husband as she lives out her tragic lawnmower mom life, Cady is working for a middling wage at the same high school she attended twenty years ago. Maybe the only person with a more depressing fate is Damian, who, for whatever reason, is working the projector for the Winter Talent Show. 

Possibly the one thing that could be more heinous is if Karen ended up marrying her “first cousin,” Seth Mosakowski, and having inbred, even dumber children with him. In any case, there’s obviously a reason why Regina George is no longer consorting with any of these “losers.” Because, evidently, she didn’t peak in high school as expected…the way all the others appear to have done just that. One would instead like to believe that she and Janis have finally consummated their long overdue lesbian relationship and are proud owners of a kinky sex shop that also sells lacrosse gear (which itself can double as sex toys) somewhere in L.A.

Apart from being one of the most overt pieces of capitalist propaganda to wield pop culture in recent memory, the Mean Girls x Wal-Mart commercial is a stark reminder not just of Gen Z contempt for millennials, but for their simultaneous desire to emulate them. After all, there’s a fine line between hate and love, as it is said. And, to quote Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan), it’s not millennials’ fault that Gen Z “is like in love with them or something.” At least, if one is to go by the obsession with their era (even when trying to deride it through an over-the-top condemnation of skinny jeans and side parts). 

Within the absurd universe of 2023-era Mean Girls, Gen Z is somehow the spawn of Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert), while Cady (Lindsay Lohan) and Karen (Amanda Seyfried) don’t seem to have any clear claim on children of their own (unless it’s the other two members of Amber Wieners’ Gen Z clique). And maybe Cady is too busy “nurturing” youths in her role as a guidance counselor anyway to bother with children of her own. Which brings us to a scene designed to make her look out of touch in an “old” way rather than a “cute” one (as she did in 2004 whilst talking to Aaron Samuels [Jonathan Bennett]). Since everything is “cute” when you’re young enough…as society has drummed into our collective minds by now. This occurs when, sitting behind her desk dispensing “guidance” to a duo of mean girls, she once again says, “Grool.”

The duo looks at her like she’s a “Martian” (as Regina called her) after she utters, apropos of nothing, “Grool.” At least when she said it in the actual movie, it was a conflated response to Aaron declaring of his Halloween party invite, “That flier admits one person only, so…don’t bring some other guy with you.” She started to say “great,” then “cool”—ergo, “Grool.” But how would these Gen Z putas living their far more “glamorous” life be expected to know anything about that “lore.” So naturally, they look up from their phones long enough to respond with disgust, “Huh?” and “What’s ‘grool’?” Cady assures, “It’s nothing.” 

Almost as “nothing” as Gen Z claims millennials are to them despite constantly turning to Mean Girls as a behavioral bible and/or source of 00s yearning/“aesthetic” inspiration. And in the Wal-Mart commercial, that emulation comes both behaviorally and sartorially as Gretchen’s daughter and her friends wear the same pastels and plaids as the original Plastics did. Even though Cady was sure to tell us at the end of Mean Girls (after Damian [Daniel Franzese] delightedly warns of a freshman trio of girls, “Check it out, Junior Plastics”), “And if any freshmen tried to disturb that peace…well, let’s just say we knew how to take care of it.” Cue Cady imagining a school bus running the trio over and then assuring, “Just kidding.” But, of course, there are surely many millennials by now who have had such violent and hostile fantasies about cartoonishly ageist Gen Z. Particularly since, as we see exhibited by the Gen Z Plastics of the Wal-Mart commercial, they’re essentially grafting what millennials did while simultaneously critiquing them. Mainly for being “old” and for having never experienced the horrors of modern-day smartphone/social media life in their teens the way Gen Z is now. 

To that point, Gretchen has happily taken on a Mrs. George-esque (Amy Poehler) persona by becoming not like a regular mom, but a cool mom as she sets up the ring light and camera to film Amber and her bitch friends doing limply-executed dances, presumably for TikTok. Amber then snaps at her mother when she says, “This is gonna be so fetch.” Amber’s response? “Stop trying to make fetch happen, Mom. It’s still not gonna happen.” Gretchen looks deeply wounded by this, for surely it’s gotta sting more coming from her daughter than Regina George. Her daughter, mind you, who knows nothing about millennial culture because not only did she not live through it, but everything about it has been diluted and bastardized by TikTok. Including Mean Girls itself. 

This usually extends to the oft-referenced Winter Talent Show scene, which is recreated here as well (albeit with “smart” flat-heeled boots in lieu of stiletto-heeled ones). Even though Gretchen (and Cady/Karen, for that matter) would have needed to get pregnant right after high school, circa 2007-2009, to have a high school-age daughter. The probability of this seems rather unlikely (unless you’re Lorelai Gilmore), considering her Type A personality and “good” college/“respectable” career path. Even if having kids and marrying a “similar-minded/pedigreed” man was also at the forefront of her mind, that wouldn’t have been until, realistically, at least her mid-twenties. But, for the sake of capitalist propaganda, we must suspend our disbelief as Gretchen (joined by two more children who also appear to be Asian, which means she definitely didn’t marry Jason [Daniel DeSanto]), Cady and Karen watch a “less hot version” of themselves perform the same song and dance that they did “back in the day.” To far greater ennui…even though Gretchen takes over for Mrs. George on the filming front. 

By the end of the commercial, the movie has been so perverted from its original self that the Burn Book pages plastered all over the school have been transformed into ads for Wal-Mart Black Friday deals instead of salacious pieces of gossip (many of which wouldn’t fly in the Gen Z climate of the present, where jokes about people being fat, or slutty, or statutory rapists would probably be deemed too insensitive).

And yet, while millennial messaging has been “massaged” to suit a Gen Z demographic in this commercial (not just with the Burn Book being nothing but a “coupon book,” but also Gretchen having her son play with a Barbie), it is still Gen Z trying to be “analog” in the end by engaging with printouts. This being just one of the many ways, throughout the commercial, in which they’ve surrendered to their worst, most “cringe” fear: “being millennial.”

As the “reunion” that everyone’s been waiting for, it was practically inevitable that the Mean Girls “assembly” (high school pun intended) would disappoint. Mainly because, yes, the so-called reunion is a fucking Wal-Mart commercial. That said, it actually seems as though, rather than people being disappointed by it, they’re somehow delighted. Dare one say…“tickled.” But the reason behind that appears to be less about content and more about an increasing fiendishness for nostalgia, especially among millennials. And no, it’s not because they’re, as Gen Z would falsely bill them, “old,” but because it’s glaringly apparent that times in 2004 were far more bearable—fun, even (remember fun?)—than times in 2023. 

Of course, naysayers and “pro-progressive” types would argue that life was so much worse back then (see: the media manipulation and vilification of women like Britney Spears). That we’ve come “such a long way” (or “such a long way,” as Gretchen Wieners [Lacey Chabert] would utter it) in our perception of things (“thing” being the word that still describes how men see women) and our “tolerance for others” (read: white people in print and media making flaccid attempts at “inclusivity”). But the truth is, psychologically, society has gone further back into the Dark Ages with its mentality—particularly toward women and minorities (who are only viewed as minorities by the white people who only make up about eight percent of the world’s population). So yeah, a throwback to 2004 is bound to feel pretty fucking great right now. Like sweet candy compared to the tasteless gruel (a riff on “grool,” obviously) being served up on a daily basis in this part of the century. 

What’s more, 2004 was still within a prime era for the U.S. in terms of continuing to hold up capitalism as what George W. Bush would later call “the best system ever devised.” To that end, one would like to believe the Mean Girls x Wal-Mart commercial is a wink-wink nod to the Bush years’ unironic exaltation of capitalism, but no, that’s clearly not the case. In fact, this capitalistic propaganda posing as “Mean Girls nostalgia” at its worst treats the viewers as though they themselves still live in 2004, when it was easier to pretend “deal shopping” for Black Friday isn’t the very thing that’s helped to make 2023 even more of a dystopia compared to 2004. Or that the presence of Missy Elliott (whose song, “Pass That Dutch,” plays repeatedly throughout the original Mean Girls, therefore this commercial) spelling out “D-E-A-L-S”  instead of “K-L-A” (that’s how Coach Carr [Dwayne Hill] spells “chlamydia”) somehow makes the human predilection for consumerism more “kosher.” As does, according to the commercial creators, Gretchen Wieners replacing Regina George (Rachel McAdams) in the silver Lexus convertible. Except it’s now a brandless convertible of a nondescript tone.

That’s right, since Rachel McAdams announced simply that she “didn’t want to” be part of the little puff piece for capitalism, they got Chabert to fill in for one of McAdams’ key moments from the film. So in lieu of Regina pulling up to the soccer field and shouting, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” Gretchen does. And no, it’s not to pick up Cady (Lindsay Lohan) and Karen (Amanda Seyfried), but rather, her own high school-age daughter (which doesn’t quite mathematically track), Amber Wieners. Amber stands on the field with her clique comprised of the next generation mean girls, and is absolutely mortified (could it be because Gen Z is supposed to be more environmentally concerned? No, it’s because, no matter what era you’re in, parents are always humiliating) when Gretchen cries out, “Get in sweetie, we’re going deals shopping!” Even though the back of her car is already piled high with plenty of shit from Wal-Mart. Because what it the American message if not, even to this day: excess! 

So it is that the Mean Girls x Wal-Mart “partnership” wields nostalgia like a seductive and deadly weapon to keep encouraging the very capitalistic behavior that will be humanity’s undoing. Behavior that millennials once got to relish in the 00s without half as much guilt about it as there is now (and mainly only because of Greta Thunberg). Yet that’s the the thing, isn’ it? There’s still clearly not enough guilt or compunction about it if a commercial like this can exist…and continue to be so gleefully embraced. The same goes for the abominable Menulog commercial starring Latto and Christina Aguilera. Both employ the same method of assaulting the audience with “eye candy” and familiar 00s nostalgia (via Christina Aguilera) to distract from the obvious point: we want you to keep engaging in the same buying patterns as the very generation you and Gen Z are constantly railing against—baby boomers. And in this scenario, it makes all the sense in the world that millennials are also known as echo boomers. Just look at the way Cady, Gretchen and Karen are living. That is to say, in the exact same way as their own parents. 

The warm reception toward this commercial (and its tainting of the original movie) is, accordingly, a sign of how desperately so many people want to deny the reality of now. One in which the idea of Cady, Gretchen and Karen (though, pointedly, not Regina) continuing to carry out the same toxic consumerist cycle of the generation before them is a comfort rather than a horror show. After all, millennials were supposed to be different—they were supposed to want something more (besides more material goods). And yet, like the yippies of the 1960s who became yuppies in the 1980s (see: Jerry Rubin), millennials, if we’re to go by this commercial, have gladly sold out in the same way to keep the very system that has failed them (perhaps more than anyone) going. 

It does seem fitting, in this regard that McAdams, the lone Gen Xer of the group (a.k.a. the “eldest” of the quartet at forty-four) opted to opt out. Perhaps old enough to know she doesn’t really want to be part of this schlock under the pretense of it being something “for the fans” when, obviously, it’s for nobody’s benefit other than the capitalist agenda’s, which has been using pop culture for decades upon decades to promote its purpose. This brings us to the fact that a “Mean Girls” commercial has already been recently used to promote a brand: Coach. Yes, back in 2021, Megan Thee Stallion stepped into the role of Regina George (because McAdams so patently doesn’t want to) to help recreate the introduction scene to the leader of The Plastics and, of course, sell some overpriced handbags. 

Then there was a 2022 Allbirds commercial wherein Lohan, as usual, capitalized on Mean Girls (one of her only viable movies) to sell some shoes by peppering in “subtle” references to the movie. Like how she was a mathlete in high school. She then goes to pick out a pair of pink running shoes and says, “Well, it is Wednesday.” More “hardy-har-har” allusions arrive when she adds, “These don’t just look cute. They’re made with natural materials…always avoid the plastics,” followed by, “Bouncy. Perfect for a queen bee like Lindsay Lohan.” The point being, it’s fairly evident that, for whatever reason, Mean Girls has become a go-to for bolstering consumer faith in capitalism. And again, that’s arguably because 2004 was such a peak time for worshiping it. But what’s past doesn’t have to be present…so long as you’re not seduced by it. Therein lies the catch.