The Orange County Register

Forgotten its roots

Review: Like its carnivorous botanical star, 'Little Shop of Horrors' has grown from a silly curiosity into a monster of a Broadway production.

By PAUL HODGINS

Once upon a time, Roger Corman made a cute, subversive film called "Little Shop of Horrors," about a boy named Seymour and his carnivorous plant. It was turned into a cute, subversive musical by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken in their pre-Disney salad days, and in the '80s it played for five years far from Broadway.

Then Big Money got involved. In 1986, "Little Shop" became less cute and subversive when Ashman and Menken's creation became a Frank Oz movie featuring stars like Rick Moranis, Steve Martin, Bill Murray and John Candy. Last year it opened at Broadway's Virginia Theatre, where the people-chomping plant known as Audrey II - transformed from low-budget prop to Godzilla-esque monster, courtesy of the Jim Henson Co.'s puppeteer magic - was the indisputable star. (It closed Aug. 22 after a disappointing 372 performances.)

Audrey II and her retinue are currently touring the provinces, and if Sunday's performance at the Ahmanson Theatre is a reliable indication, she's now a bona fide diva. Poor Roger Corman; if he was in the audience, he probably wouldn't have recognized his modest little man-eater. In her present version she's as garish, attention-grabbing and self-important as "Phantom's" chandelier.

Which isn't to say that "Little Shop of Horrors" is bad or unsuccessful. It's still graced by the songs of Ashman and Menken, surely one of the most talented teams of the past generation (their partnership came to a tragic end with Ashman's premature death in 1991). And there are some capable talents in the leading roles.

It's just that in its journey from silly sci-fi spoof to road-show juggernaut, Corman's creature has lost its impish soul. It's hard to imagine the original staging brought to a screeching halt by a set malfunction, as Sunday's performance was. "Little Shop" used to be the kind of show that would happily capitalize on such a catastrophe. Now, for better or worse, it's all grown up.

Like "Urinetown," "Little Shop of Horrors" is about turning storytelling conventions upside-down. Its hero, nerdy florist Seymour Krelbourn, is a murderer, albeit a reluctant one - his meal ticket of a flower needs human flesh, and he provides it. And Audrey II dispatches good characters and bad with a few noisy slurps; she's the perfect moral relativist.

As "Urinetown" morphed from offbeat, downtown cult hit into Broadway's hottest ticket, its creators made sure that it didn't sever its alterna-musical roots. Henry Miller's Theatre was made to look like a worn-out warehouse space; the stagecraft was kept simple and deliciously cheesy; you left feeling that you could re-create the whole show in your basement with some cardboard boxes and a few game actors.

"Little Shop of Horrors" has different aspirations. Its Broadway incarnation featured dripping-blood effects, and the touring version of Audrey II is reportedly more complicated than the one at the Virginia Theatre. At the end, the menacing plant hovers over the audience like a predatory nightmare (or the ultimate Freudian phallic symbol, take your pick). The result is impressive, but it belongs in a different show. "Alien: The Musical," perhaps?

Anthony Rapp anchors this botanical circus as Seymour, and he does as well as could be expected playing deferential co-star to a shrub. Rapp's singing voice is still his best asset - it's as stentorian and urgent as it was in his breakthrough Broadway role, filmmaker Mark in "Rent." But Rapp's nerdisms are a touch generic. He doesn't make Seymour lovable, as Moranis did in the movie version of the musical, and that's a crucial shortcoming.

It's the women who own this production. Tari Kelly is terrific as Audrey, the dim-bulb girl whom Seymour saves from a sadistic relationship with a dentist. Kelly is a fascinating package - she's thin and willowy but owns a powerhouse singing voice, and her comic timing is bang-on. The neighborhood chorus, Chiffon, Crystal and Ronnette, get to sing Ashman and Menken's best songs, and their groove-heavy backing vocals turn every tune they're part of into a Motown-ish dance number. Yasmeen Sulieman, Amina S. Robinson and LaTonya Holmes don't miss a beat or an opportunity to shine.

The supporting men are a mixed bag. James Moye is acceptably evil as Orin, the dastardly dentist, but he doesn't hold a candle to the fabulously excessive Douglas Sills, who performed the role on Broadway. Familiar face Lenny Wolpe doesn't bring much creativity to the show's most thankless role, Mushnik, the whiny flower shop owner. Audrey's voice is provided by Michael James Leslie, who gives her more than a hint of Little Richard pizazz. (Bravo also to puppeteers Michael Latini and Paul McGinnis: Audrey II's lip-synching is at least as convincing as Britney Spears'.)

There's much to recommend in this "Shop." Director Jerry Zaks and choreographer Kathleen Marshall have toiled mightily to give us a just-like-Broadway production, and some tweaking was done early in the tour to get Audrey II to perform as convincingly as the scariest Ridley Scott beast. My contention, though - and I'm sure plenty will disagree with me - is that this show comes off better without all the dross. I'd rather see it staged with some castoff car parts, lots of tin foil and an old refrigerator box. Preferably in Roger Corman's basement.