The musical Little Shop of Horrors by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken is now playing at Neptune Theatre. I’m not a huge fan of the story itself, but Neptune’s production, directed by Jeremy Webb, did the cult classic justice.
Before I get into that, here’s the synopsis.
A poor botanist named Seymour (Hugh Ritchie) works at old Mr. Mushnik’s (Bill Carr) flower shop in the rough part of town. He’s in love with his coworker, Audrey (Kirsten Howel), but she’s got a scary biker/dentist/sadist boyfriend, Orin Scrivello (Ryan Brown). Literally on Skid Row, the shop is about to close its doors for good. That’s until Seymour finds a mysterious plant that changes his luck for the better, but it craves human blood.
The domestic violence in this show is scarier than the man-eating plant itself, especially since it’s a comedic musical. It’s jarring, out of place, and feels almost too real.
Orin verbally abuses Audrey, breaks her arm, gives her a black eye (both off-stage), and is the creepiest character I’ve ever seen in a musical. Neptune’s version toned down the violence a bit, with the removal of an on-stage slap and the omission of Orin calling Audrey a slut.
The scripted domestic violence has always felt in bad taste to me. But, the song Dentist!, which features Orin glorifying his violent tendencies, is a classic for a reason. And the reason is, well, it’s camp.
Brown’s performance was terrifying in the best way, instilling a sense of fear into the audience. He also successfully delivers humour to the audience when the plot calls for comedic relief.
The chemistry in Ritchie and Howel’s duet, Suddenly Seymour, was palpable. Their voices blend well together and the longer belted-out notes are impressive. I’d stay in my seat to hear them sing another duet. Even if the song reveals Seymour to be a weird obsessive loser who is taking advantage of Audrey in a moment of vulnerability.
The acting was great, but the puppets, created by set designer Rachel Forbes, were the stars of the show. They are larger than life and were puppeteered in sync with the music, which is much harder than it seems.
If you’re thinking about going to see it, do it. If you choose not to, don’t worry. You definitely won’t be missing Neptune’s best.
My only request is that you skip the bar. The specialty drink is an absurdly expensive $15 gin and tonic with a bit of melon liqueur and dried up mint leaves. Not worth it.
