See me! Feed me! A review of raucous ‘Little Shop of Horrors,’ out for blood at Virginia Stage Company
The production runs through April 6 in Norfolk.
Rook A. Haddock as Audrey II puppet with Cree Carrico as Audrey I and Diego Echeverria de Cordova as Seymour in Virginia Stage Company’s “Little Shop of Horrors.” (Erica Johnson)
“Hold your hat and hang onto your soul!/ Somethin’s comin’ to eat the world whole!”
Contrary to some who complain that theater has gotten too political (theater, of course, has always been political), Virginia Stage Company‘s “Little Shop of Horrors” is merely, in the words of director Tom Quaintance, an innocent “horror comedy rock musical” designed to lull audiences into a plant-like stupor …
It’s actually a wild, acerbic frolic of a show recommending human solidarity, especially against poverty and carnivorous plants. Even the show’s provenance is provocative: First it was a shlocky 1960 film by schlockmeister Roger Corman; then a great 1982 musical by our real heroes, book and lyrics writer Howard Ashman (dead at 40 of AIDS), and music by Alan Menken (blessedly still with us). These two inspired what’s now known as the Disney Renaissance (all Disney’s best musical films from “The Little Mermaid” on). Most people remember this show, however, from a great 1986 movie musical version with stand-out performances by Rick Moranis as Seymour, Steve Martin (as the sadistic dentist), Bill Murray and others. That movie was directed by the great Muppet-master Frank Oz, who knew a thing or two about wrangling puppets.
But we are here mostly to praise the “razor-sharp” (Quaintance again) wit and erudition of Ashman, who put his indelible stamp on this “Nos-fer-ate-you”/ Faustian myth, with Quaintance following his every stamping move. Quaintance is abetted once again by some of his favorite young partners from Norfolk State University’s theater program, lending all their usual acting vim and local, vocal vigor.
Here’s the very unlikely (let’s all hope!) plot setup.
Mr. Mushnik (old VSC Equity pro Scott Wichmann) channels his previous role as Lazar Wolf (from VSC’s Season 45 “Fiddler on the Roof”) to play the curmudgeonly Yiddish owner of Mushnik’s Skid Row Florists, surely the least appealing store name anywhere. Its stoop is littered with winos and street urchins, the latter of whom transform periodically offstage, aloft or both into a fantastic girl group on the order of The Supremes. They are Crystal (ShaaNi Dent), Chiffon (Jhayda Washington) and Ronette (Teresa, aka Nikki, Wilson) — all products of professor Anthony Stockard’s NSU stable of fine actors. Stockard’s program provides several of the show’s understudies, as well.
Our female lead, Audrey I, is Equity import Cree Carrico, channeling her previous role elsewhere as New Yorkish-speaking Adelaide in “Guys and Dolls.” Though she’s oddly prone to wig-swapping (new scene, new wig), her acting and singing are lovely.
Our unlikely hero, and her all-too-brief love interest, is of course Seymour, here played by a very youthful, very charismatic Diego Echeverria de Cordova, a Venezuelan-born Equity import whose anguish and brief ecstasy charm us all evening. Seymour was taken from the Skid Row orphanage by Mr. Mushnik to do hard labor at the florist shop, gaining, as recompense, a place under the counter to sleep. Mr. Mushnik tends to exploit his employees, the target/source of a streak of possible antisemitism inherent in the script. (Writer Ashman himself fortunately had a Jewish background.) Mushnik speaks occasional Yiddish and is mighty tight with a dollar — until Seymour chances upon a bizarre exotic plant that he buys from a Chinese man at the height of a solar eclipse accompanied by strange noises. Nothing suspicious there.
That exotic plant is the one Seymour brings to the shop and names Audrey II, in honor of his not-so-secret love Audrey I, his co-worker. Audrey’s affections are, however, otherwise engaged with a physically abusive, avowedly sadistic dentist named Orin Scrivello, played by another suave Equity import, Darius Harper. Thanks to suspended audience disbelief and quick costume changes, Harper is able to play lots of other roles, from Mrs. Luce (of actual Life magazine fame) to a fellow from the William Morris Agency (a real talent agency) to … lots of others. But Harper’s most memorable turn is, of course, as Orin the gas-sniffing, brutal dentist who uses a rusty drill (“it’s an antique!”) and lots of pain-inflicting force, whether in his dental chair or on his S&M-driven dates with Audrey I.
While Ashman’s satire plays up stereotypes, comedy trumps political correctness almost every time. What’s more, the bad guys, dentist Orin and Mr. Mushnik, are early flower fodder for Audrey I. Seymour feeds both to his very demanding plant. Business, meanwhile, is booming, blooming.
For those few folks who don’t realize that Audrey I is a fast-growing carnivorous plant and is played in this show by multiple ever-larger puppets, well she is, and they (the puppets) are. The problem is that Audrey II does not discriminate between bad-people food and good-people food. Having bled Seymour dry, she scarfs down anybody he brings into her range, and this will cause plot and world destruction.
All this people-munching requires, of course, a very gifted puppeteer (Rook A. Haddock) and a singer, Robyn Riddick, to give Audrey II her singing voice. Both do exceptional jobs, though the puppeteer was occasionally glimpsed inside her puppet at the First Preview performance I reviewed. Tech and other snafus are only to be expected at a preview. The antisemitic humor and dentist-bashing are more serious but thoroughly baked into the plot, as explained.
I mean, what can one expect from a play about carnivorous carnations (or whatever Audrey II might be)? Here the world doesn’t end with a whimper but with a gulp.
Let’s give the director (via his playbill notes) the last word: “Ashman and Menken have created a Skid Row that is both New York and everywhere in the world where people are down on their luck, looking for a way out. … So, if a manipulative, colorful monster appears, telling you all the things you want to hear, offering to give you everything your secret, greasy heart desires, DON’T FEED THE PLANTS!”
Yep. Theater is and always has been political.
And thank goodness for that.