Few shows rate the term "perfection." However, cult musical fans will want to rush to the box office to buy what few tickets remain for the Skylight Opera Theater's sparkling production of Little Shop of Horrors. Interestingly, the Milwaukee production arrives on the eve of its Broadway revival, scheduled to open October 2. For those unwilling to hop a plane to New York, however, there's plenty to enjoy right here at home.
This production of Little Shop would make its now-famous creators proud. It skips merrily along, never missing a beat. The main character, an orphan named Seymour, works in a rundown, Skid Row plant shop. As the plant grows, it attracts more attention from potential customers, much to the delight of the shop's owner, Mr. Mushnik. The plant saves the shop from certain bankruptcy, but it continues to grow. And grow.
Seymour, the only one who knows the plant's secret, is torn between his love for another clerk, "the sweet and lovely" Audrey, and his yearning to leave Skid Row. A simple, honest guy, Seymour is dazzled by the attraction of fame and fortune. He wants a better life for himself, but he also wants to share that life with Audrey. All she wants, she sings, is a tract home "somewhere that's green." She also needs to escape from the clutches of her abusive dentist boyfriend, Orin.
Many may recall this plot from the 1986 film, starring Rick Moranis as the nebbishy Seymour and Steve Martin as the sadistic dentist, Orin. The show is much better than the film, however. Benjamin Howes is everything one would want to see in Seymour, the instantly likeable guy who never got a chance. As Audrey, Seymour's would-be girlfriend, Michelle Smith could blossom a bit. She has a remarkably lovely voice, but when she's not singing, she tends to fade into the wallpaper. Although she's clearly fighting self-esteem issues, Audrey could still be more prominent.
As Orin, the dastardly boyfriend, Steve Koehler is easily the most hilarious character. The part fits him so well, one is amazed to see him fit the bill in a half-dozen cameo appearances. None compares, however, with the image of Orin in a dentist's coat, sniffing nitrous oxide and waving a drill that he cheerfully describes as an antique. "It's rusted and dull," he chuckles. William Theisen cuts a cozy, curmudgeonly figure as Mr. Mushnik.
While the main characters attract most of our attention, homage must be paid to the three "do-wop" girls who appear in almost every scene. Their hip moves, harmonies and "attitude" maintain the show's jazzy pace. The girl group consists of Arsene DeLay, Dawn Lyn Miller and Malkia Stampley. Director Pam Kriger deftly weaves all the disparate elements together, including upscale lyrics such as "laissez-faire" that strain the show's credibility (while contributing to its hilarity).
Then there's Audrey II, the plant that practically tap dances across the stage. In a wondrous blend of technology, stage magic and puppetry, Audrey II is as much a character as any of the "live" actors. (In fact, more than one technician must operate the last -- and largest -- incarnation of Audrey II.). The voice of Audrey II belongs to Bill Jackson. What makes this show such a hoot is that a deep-voiced African-American male, who's obviously much sharper than his human gardeners, voices "Audrey II." For instance, the plant tosses off such wisecracks as, "no shit, Sherlock" when the befuddled Seymour is struck by an obvious realization.
This reviewer has distinct memories of seeing Little Shop in its original, 1982 Off-Broadway version. The current incarnation of Audrey seems far superior to the relatively low-budget original, and that's a definite compliment to Audrey II's creator, Lisa Schlenker, and to the talents of Peter Bruce & co.
