--Victoria Petrosino, New Rep Reviewer
New
Rep’s “Little Shop of Horrors” tells the story of Seymour (Blake
Pfeil), an orphan and hobby-botanist who works at Mushnik's Skid Row
Florists. Though he was taken in by Mr. Mushnik (Paul D. Farwell), he
is mistreated by the exasperated owner. While passing a Chinese flower
market during a “total eclipse of the sun,” he picks up an alien (in all
meanings of the word) plant and quickly discovers the flower’s
insatiable taste for human blood.
Timothy John Smith (as the voice of the alien flower Audrey II) has a wonderfully deep, crooning voice. Like a radio DJ, he lulls Seymour into feeding him bodies, promising the unwitting botanist fame, wealth, and Audrey’s love in return.
As usual, the set design of “Little Shop of Horrors” is stunningly intricate. Peter Colao builds a convincing city landscape with the silhouette of a skyline, cement stoops, abandoned shopping carts, fire escapes, and substantial brick buildings, enveloped in the golden glow of city lights. The only break in the illusion comes from Mr. Musnik’s flower shop. Surely even the decrepit, floundering storefront would have better storage than a wooden cabinet filled with dead roses?
The stability of the Skid Row set is contrasted with the fragility of the characters. Pfeil and the ensemble bring a sense of luckless desperation to “Skid Row (Downtown),” laying the foundation for Seymour’s later morally ambiguous willingness to sacrifice Audrey’s abusive boyfriend to the rapidly growing carnivorous plant. Largely, though, the musical is a comedy, and the combination of the already humorous lyrics (written by Howard Ashman) mixed with Russell Garrett’s choreography make it uproariously so. In “Somewhere That’s Green,” Audrey’s (Susan Molloy) ode to cookie-cutter houses and plastic couch covers, the audience is treated to lyrics such as: “Between our frozen dinner / And our bedtime nine-fifteen / We snuggle watching Lucy / On our enormous 12” screen,” which Molloy sings in a thick Jersey accent. Pfeil and Farwell perform an equally facetious tango to “Mushnik and Son.”
The most important part of the black comedy is its ability to turn potentially frightening situations into comedic ones. Two of the characters’ death scenes are executed as such. Bill Mootos’s (Orin) “Now (It’s Just the Gas)” shows the actor slowly asphyxiating in his scuba-diver get-up. Later, Molloy dramatically over-acts her concession to fatal bite wounds, singing a completely exaggerated reprisal of “Somewhere that’s Green.” Overall, New Rep delivers a campy and enthusiastic performance of the macabre musical.
Timothy John Smith (as the voice of the alien flower Audrey II) has a wonderfully deep, crooning voice. Like a radio DJ, he lulls Seymour into feeding him bodies, promising the unwitting botanist fame, wealth, and Audrey’s love in return.
As usual, the set design of “Little Shop of Horrors” is stunningly intricate. Peter Colao builds a convincing city landscape with the silhouette of a skyline, cement stoops, abandoned shopping carts, fire escapes, and substantial brick buildings, enveloped in the golden glow of city lights. The only break in the illusion comes from Mr. Musnik’s flower shop. Surely even the decrepit, floundering storefront would have better storage than a wooden cabinet filled with dead roses?
The stability of the Skid Row set is contrasted with the fragility of the characters. Pfeil and the ensemble bring a sense of luckless desperation to “Skid Row (Downtown),” laying the foundation for Seymour’s later morally ambiguous willingness to sacrifice Audrey’s abusive boyfriend to the rapidly growing carnivorous plant. Largely, though, the musical is a comedy, and the combination of the already humorous lyrics (written by Howard Ashman) mixed with Russell Garrett’s choreography make it uproariously so. In “Somewhere That’s Green,” Audrey’s (Susan Molloy) ode to cookie-cutter houses and plastic couch covers, the audience is treated to lyrics such as: “Between our frozen dinner / And our bedtime nine-fifteen / We snuggle watching Lucy / On our enormous 12” screen,” which Molloy sings in a thick Jersey accent. Pfeil and Farwell perform an equally facetious tango to “Mushnik and Son.”
The most important part of the black comedy is its ability to turn potentially frightening situations into comedic ones. Two of the characters’ death scenes are executed as such. Bill Mootos’s (Orin) “Now (It’s Just the Gas)” shows the actor slowly asphyxiating in his scuba-diver get-up. Later, Molloy dramatically over-acts her concession to fatal bite wounds, singing a completely exaggerated reprisal of “Somewhere that’s Green.” Overall, New Rep delivers a campy and enthusiastic performance of the macabre musical.
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