The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Little Shop of Horrors

By Ross

“Feed me, Seymour!” is basically what I was screaming with delight as the camp classic Little Shop of Horrors revs up its motorcycle engines at the Westside Theatre/Upstairs. The crowd of Little Shop enthusiasts was definitely on fire, waiting for this show to doo-wop its way into our collective hearts, but I, to be completely honest, was returning for another viewing of this show strictly because of Sherie Rene Scott’s return to the stage. It’s been far too long since I heard this spectacular artist sing and strut her way across the stage. I’ve seen her in almost everything she has done on the Broadway stage (Dirty Rotton Scoundrels; The Portuguese Kid; The Front Page; Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown – The Musical – to name a few) since I first came into contact with her in Everday Rapture, which knocked me down in all the best ways possible. She went up the ladder to the roof, where I could see heaven so much better. She was magnificent-personified, in my eyes, and that framing was only heightened and deepened when I saw her co-authored play Whorl Inside a Loop, a play which seems to be constantly teasing us all with a Broadway transfer, but as of yet, it remains in my fantasy dreamscape.

I have seen Little Shop of Horrors twice since it returned to off-Broadway. And even though it’s not really my m.o. to return and see the same production over and over again, this show keeps finding new ways to entice me back. The first was the obvious, with the stupendous Jonathan Groff (Broadway/NYTW’s Merrily We Roll Along) who most wonderfully stumbled and tripped his way, most perfectly onto the Mushnik Flower Shop floor. It’s pretty much one of the most delicious casting choices of that season, placing Seymour onto those talented tensed-up Groff shoulders. I also saw the wildly talented Jeremy Jordan (Broadway’s The Great Gatsby) in the role, that following month when the borders between Canada and the United States reopened after being closed for so long. It was my way of celebrating, and what a way to elevate the return to New York City!

I must also admit, sheepishly, that I didn’t really come to see Nicholas Christopher in the part of Seymour. I had seen him in the latest Broadway revival of Sweeney Todd as murder victim number one, the shady Pirelli, but I was not prepared for just how magnificently he took over the Little Shop part, matching Scott vocally and with his stellar comedic timing. His tall, strong-framed, handsome-ness is almost too hard to cover up under that button-up shirt behind those glasses and bandages. He finds an awkwardness that soars almost too tall to stand on that Flower Shop desk. He’s that uncomfortable insecure nerd who most certainly has to grow up “big and strong” as the creature starts to overtake center stage. It’s as delicious as one could have hoped for in the hands of these two well-matched wonders, giving us a Little Shop that will keep its flower shop doors open for business long into the weeks ahead, just like the original (although the two are only scheduled until February 23rd).

Years ago, when I was a young impressionable college student studying theatre at York University (set design/arts admin), the same feisty little musical arrived overtaking a small theatre in downtown Toronto with its green growth. I can’t remember the name of the theatre nor who played the roles, but I did know, at the time, that it was already a camp classic when it set up shop on Yonge Street, sprouting up from New York City with skid row buzz of the highest order. The leaf-cutting sprout grew big, digging its roots into the Toronto theatre scene and becoming a much sought-after and exciting spectacle. I couldn’t wait to see this strange and unusual, critically acclaimed musical, that had won several awards including the 1982–1983 New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Musical, the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Musical, and the Outer Critics Circle Award. It must have sprouted up just after it opened at the Off-Off-Broadway’s Workshop of the Players Art Foundation (WPA Theatre) in May 1982, as it was sometime within the year that I saw it in Canada (I think).

In NYC, after it premiered to acclaim and sold out houses, Little Shop relocated to the Orpheum Theatre Off-Broadway in July 1982, where it had a five-year glorious run starring the ever-magnificent Ellen Greene and Lee Wilkof. Many were, at the time, pushing it to move to Broadway, but book and lyrics writer Howard Ashman (Smile, Beauty and the Beast) felt the show belonged just where it was, downtown, run-down, and appropriately intimate (much like how I feel these days about Titanique). Wise man, as a small off-Broadway house feels like just the right fit. It thrived in NYC back then, and even though I’m not sure how it was received in those days when Toronto was just starting to import NYC hits like Cats and Little Shop, I remember it felt pretty much perfect in that shabby downtown Toronto space, growing forever roots in my memory in a way few shows rarely did.

Thankfully, Little Shop of Horrors, based on Roger Corman’s campy, low-budget 1950 horror film about a man-eating hungry plant trying to take over the world, has found its delicious way back. Thanks to the solid work of scenic designer Julian Crouch (Broadway’s Hedwig…), with pitch-perfect costuming by Tom Broecker (MTC’s The Cake), horrifically wonderful lighting by Bradley King (Broadway’s Hadestown), and scary delightful sound design by Jessica Paz (Public’s Miss You Like Hell), it lands magnificently in the Westside, without the help of a total eclipse of the Sun. As directed with spark and sass by Michael Mayer (Broadway’s Swept Away) and delightfully in-tune choreography by Ellenore Scott (Broadway’s Funny Girl), Little Shop continues to find the perfect balance in its nutritional misting and casting, in a way that will certainly make that leafy vegetable grow ridiculously big and hilariously strong.

With the guiding hand’s help of the glorious do-wop Greek chorus ushering us past trash and a perfectly placed singing derelict drunk (Weston Chandler Long), the show continues to sing strong. That glorious Motownish music by Alan Menken (A Bronx Tale, Newsies), with music supervision, arrangement, and orchestration by Will Van Dyke (Broadway’s The Heart of Rock & Roll) rings true and hilariously pure, wrapping the audience up like fresh cut flowers bought at our neighborhood floral shop. Hanging on the corner steps, the Urchins (Tiffany Renee Thompson, Darla Pilar Redus, and Morgan Ashley Bryant) sashay the show forward, making us secretly wish for a few more moments of girl-group glittery glamour (like they did in that most delicious film version). But they shine just as bright, and sound as delightfully glorious.

They draw us in from that glorious opening number, “Skid Row (Downtown)” even if it never truly lives up to the 1986 movie soundtrack memorized in my head. They grow on you with sassy ease as I wait for those first moments when the big-Broadway-belting Scott shimmies onto the stage. Stiletto-heel stepping into a role that is owned most vigorously by the magnificent Ellen Greene, the star of the original Off-Broadway, feature film, and the 2015 Encores! production, Scott finds her own quirk in the fabulousness of the part. All one has to do is watch the YouTube video of Greene’s unforgettable Audrey singing the iconic “Suddenly, Seymour” to know that anyone who takes on the role is singing in a high camp memory contest with that unbelievable presence. She personified the needy and vulnerable gal, so fragile but with that big undeniable voice. She balanced, as effortlessly as she did on those heels, the powerhouse vocals with the desperate squeak of the discarded and the hopelessly dreaming of “Somewhere That’s Green”. Scott’s Audrey doesn’t mimic Greene, but finds her own true way, never disappointing us in the slightest. Scott makes it a starry masterclass of finding her own physicality, personifying something as unique and definitely as strongly sung as one could hope for in the part. She entices, making us lean in with care when she shares her desire for just a little slice of the American Dream, purposefully forcing us to set aside Greene and embrace fully her ability to create something singularly special.

I ache for her, especially when pushed around by the hilariously constructed Orin, the sadistic dentist, played to full-on delightfulness by the funny and camp Teddy Yudain (HERE’s The Apple Boys) who scores one point after the other with each assorted character he dons a wig or hat for. He’s ridiculous and over-the-top, in a very good way, bringing down the bloody curtain with every entrance and side wink to the adoring crowd. The wonderful Reg Rogers (Broadway’s Tootsie) has taken on the quirky role of florist Mushnik, where he also delivers the goods with a perfectly balanced floral arrangement of unkind prickliness and fake rosy delightfulness, especially with his entangled loving manipulation tango song, “Mushnik and Son“. But it is in the outstretched bite and green grasp of Audrey II, dynamically voiced by Major Attaway (Broadway’s Aladdin) [courtesy of the wonderfully constructed puppet by designer Nicholas Mahon (MOMIX’s Alice) and puppets/puppetry training by Monkey Boys Productions], where the “Suppertime” dilemma delightfully flourishes, taking over the downtown space with his big-voiced greed.

The meek may indeed inherit the earth, but the joy of this show grows strong in the star-powered wonder of Sherie Rene Scott and Nicholas Christopher, now playing at the Westside Theatre/Upstairs (information and tickets here). This rendering of Little Shop of Horrors, now in its 5th year, truly finds its camp-tastic glory. Once again. It’s perfectly formatted for success and full (theatrical) house growth. No need to close for renovations between leads, this floral shop will hopefully, and rightly remain open for business for years to come. So all I have to say, once again, for the third charmed time, is: just go “Git it“.