Public Theater’s ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ delivers monstrously good time
If ever there was a time to welcome a man-eating plant back into our midst, it would be right about now.
Pittsburgh Public Theater’s new production of “Little Shop of Horrors,” besides being wicked fun, is an abject lesson in the consequences of trampling morality in the name of more, more, more ...
At some point, payment comes due.
The musical is director Marya Sea Kaminski’s first since taking over the Public’s artistic reins, and she delivers it roaring into the O’Reilly Theater with mad energy and a killer cast.
Teaming once again with Grammy-winning music director and Carnegie Mellon University alum John McDaniel (“Indecent” at the Public), the production gushes with start-to-finish comedic bite (intentional), effectively unleashing an antidote to whatever ails you.
Not so lucky, of course, are the unsuspecting denizens of Mushnik’s Skid Row flower shop. Things are about to get really good for nowhere man Seymour Krelborn, just before they get really bad (and monstrously entertaining).
Philippe Arroyo (CMU Class of 2015) makes a dazzling return to Pittsburgh in the role of a schlub with no prospects. His poor orphaned Seymour earns his emotional journey and our empathy. He represents the “What would you do?” big decisions in life, and he does it with gusto.
The overall physicality and energy of the cast on opening night Friday was off the charts, roaming a set that is spread the height and breadth of the O’Reilly.
The extreme version of that energy is delivered in cinematic lightning strikes and Patrick Cannon, as unhinged dentist Orin, holding a long note and leaning backward on the stairs, then sliding down the banister ... he
literally did cartwheels. What was just as much fun was watching him roll out multiple characters who shower Seymour with opportunities after an exotic plant changes the fortunes of everyone in Seymour’s orbit.
As most people know from the movie version of “Little Shop,” Seymour is in love with sweet-natured battered co-worker Audrey — Lauren Marcus of Broadway’s “Be More Chill” — who bears her cloud of sadness and who dreams small. Audrey is tied physically and emotionally to Orin, which is not good for anyone’s health.
Their relationship is one reason this musical isn’t for kids or for the faint of heart.
If you feel safe in its clutches, much of the credit goes to the streetwise Skid Row Urchins — Chiffon (Abigail Stephenson), Crystal (Tavia Rivee) and Ronnette (Melessie Clark) — who act as chorus, guides and prop movers from doo-wop prologue to curtain, providing sweet notes and perhaps pangs of conscience along the way.
They move throughout a set that covers the staging area of the O’Reilly from fire escapes to the little shop in question, which may account for the occasional muted vocals.
It is, however, a set that connects instantly to the downtrodden, living in a literal Skid Row. The perspective from tenement exterior to behind closed doors is courtesy of scenic designer Tim Mackabee, lighting by Robert J. Aguilar and Bryce Cutler’s powerful playful projections.
And then there’s that maneating plant, which starts as an innocent seeming fly trap and, by musical’s end, is an enormous threat of universal proportions. The public’s fascination with the plant brings unheard of prosperity to Mushnik (Marc Moritz), a walking cliche of a Jewish shop owner who is among those who suddenly embrace Seymour as a botanical genius for his discovery — the growing curiosity called Audrey II.
Voiced by Monteze Freeland and operated by J. Alex Noble, the bloodthirsty plant is a comic book come to life. It’s not so scary to look at — an appeal that is part of its trap — but you don’t want to get too close.
The “Little Shop” trichotomy (horror-comedy-musical) — so expertly woven together by Howard Ashman’s book and lyrics and some of Disney composer Alan Menken’s most memorable tunes — announced the pair as forces of musical theater and the screen. It arrived before their best-known collaborations: “The Little Mermaid,” “Beauty and the Beast” and “Aladdin.”
Grounded in late ’50s and early ’60s, “Little Shop” did find me worrying that millennials in the audience might not know references to the likes of Betty Crocker and Donna Reed (substitute Martha Stewart and Mandy Moore of “This Is Us,” and you get the idea). In context, a song such as “Somewhere That’s Green” — Audrey’s fervent wish for a milquetoast American life, beautifully conveyed by Marcus — can break hearts and induce smiles.
You may know everyone’s fate, but rooting for them is the only option.
“Little Shop of Horrors,” which debuted in 1982 offBroadway, is a theatrical time capsule and a timeless musical rolled into one.
Besides being a favorite of high schools (check your program for the story of one local school’s puppetmaking skills), the show is enjoying an extended run off-Broadway, sparking a new cast album and renewed interest for a movie remake.
The Pittsburgh Public production is another example of why that pesky plant keeps coming back, and why we keep wanting more, more, more ...