PRC's "Little Shop of Horrors" is a Study in Contradictions

Robert Ariza and Elizabeth Dye. Photo by HuthPhoto, Courtesy of PlayMakers.

A talking plant with a thirst for blood, relationship abuse, and desperate longing don’t exactly sound like the themes you’d see in a heartfelt musical. But, somehow, in the iconic Little Shop of Horrors, onstage now at PlayMakers Repertory Company, they all meld together seamlessly, resulting in a musical that’s funny, sad, and surprisingly tender. The show, which features a book and lyrics by Howard Ashman and music by Alan Menken, first premiered in 1982 and was based loosely off of a black-and-white 1960 film. Since that time, it’s become a dark favorite for theatregoers everywhere, and with a production like this one, directed by Jeffrey Meanza, it’s easy to see why.

The story begins in Mushnik’s Flower Shop, a struggling business located on Skid Row. It’s the 1970s, and things are looking decidedly bleak for Mr. Mushnik (Jeffrey Blair Cornell) and his employees, Seymour (Robert Ariza) and Audrey (Maya Jacobson). It’s not just business that’s taken a downturn either. Audrey is in an abusive relationship with her dentist boyfriend, Orin (Jim Bray), and Seymour is, well, just plain sad. He has a huge crush on Audrey and an intense desire to be truly loved and embraced by Mr. Mushnik, who raised him. He’s also more than a little on the nerdy side. Things seem to be looking up, however, when Seymour brings back a strange little plant, which he quickly names Audrey II. 

The exotic piece of greenery draws attention (and business) to the shop, but there’s one big problem. Unbeknownst to Mr. Mushnik or the human Audrey, the plant has an insatiable appetite for blood. At first, Seymour keeps it happy by feeding it through pricks from his fingers, and it works. Suddenly, the plant is getting bigger, and equally big things are happening for Seymour. Audrey’s taking notice, and so is the rest of the neighborhood. Sadly, though, as Audrey II grows, so does her appetite, which leaves Seymour to make some tough (and murderous) choices to keep her happy.

As this grim little tale plays out, it’s shockingly easy to forget just how macabre it is. That’s largely because both the writing and the cast are wonderfully human and heartfelt. The script paints characters who could be described as “greedy,” but their hunger is for things that many of us take for granted: love, acceptance, and a sense of home. Appropriately, Ariza’s portrayal of Seymour isn’t villainous or overly crazed. Instead, he plays the character as sweet, fumbling, and misguided. With a squeaky voice and insecure mannerisms, he effectively brings the character to life and paints Seymour as deeply sympathetic.  Likewise, Jacobson is all softness and vulnerability in her turn as Audrey. She, like Ariza, also displays apt comedic timing, and her singing voice really shines. Her delivery of the beloved “Somewhere That’s Green,” in which Audrey dreams of a better life, is both funny and heart-twistingly sad, and she hits all the right notes, both emotionally and musically.

Rounding out the more bittersweet moments are uproarious performances from Bray, who makes for both a hilariously maniacal and sadistic dentist and a host of other characters, and the show’s own “Greek chorus,” comprised of the fabulous Crystal (Shayla Brielle G.), Ronnette (Shelby Sykes), and Chiffon (Breia Joelle Kelley). Meanza’s busy-but-controlled direction keeps this wild cast of characters moving smoothly, while Regina Garcia’s set design keeps them contained. Her set includes the ominous flower shop, of course, but it also extends into the Skid Row streets, which are lined with old furniture, incredibly detailed and realistic garbage, and a general sense of gloom and desperation. Charlie Morrison’s careful lighting touches and fun use of color also add to and enhance the mood, as does Tristan André’s bouncy, joyful choreography. With all these elements combined, the show is like a study in contradictions. Lightness and dark, terror and elation, and love and hate all come across in both the production and the characters’ actions, showcasing the conflicting themes and desires that make up the heart of the story.

And, of course, there’s also Audrey II, who is arguably the real star of the show. Voiced by the incredibly gifted and stage-commanding Micaela Shanyce Bundy, who does actually appear onstage in one of Meanza’s most cleverly directed scenes, Audrey II is a work to behold. She’s essentially a large and impressive puppet (operated by Matthew Donahue and Elizabeth Dye), one that grows and shifts as the play progresses, and she’s the perfect blend of scary and hilarious. Even when she’s not speaking and only visible or when she’s covered with a cloth, she is a dominating force that draws the viewers’ eye and forces the entire cast to revolve around her force field.

Ultimately, this production, like Audrey II herself, is one that defies all the laws of nature. It makes viewers laugh when they should cry and cry when they should laugh. It’s a dark, funny, and intelligent reflection on the human condition and the power and risks that come with following our dreams. Don’t miss it!