LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS
DIRECTOR: Steven Stead
CAST: Alan Committie, Michael Richard, Candice van Litsenborgh and Zak Hendrikz
VENUE: Theatre on the Bay,
UNTIL: June 6
RATING: ****
Nearly two decades have elapsed since the dark whimsy of Little Shop of Horrors was staged in this country, and renewing acquaintance with its catchy music, implausible plot, wacky characters and 1950s exuberance promises an evening of pure escapism. Steven Stead’s current production does not disappoint.
Apart from the intrinsic entertainment value of the show, this version of Little Shop is enriched by choice casting calculated to maximise its impact.
Alan Committie, in his first musical lead, rises like a trout to the challenge of portraying the un-heroic Seymour: bespectacled, gauche, and naïve, he remains in character to sustain audience sympathy – and his less-than-perfect singing is all of a piece with the role.
Candice von Litsenborgh is an appealing Audrey, her chief merit being a spectacular vocal rendition of that lead’s songs, notably the tear-jerking Somewhere that’s Green in Act One. Like Committie, she maintains the New York accent demanded by her part unwaveringly without caricature, and the same is true of Michael Richard as the grasping florist, Mr Mushnik. As usual, Richard makes the role his own with an engaging blend of humour and intelligence.
Zak Hendrikz convinces as Audrey’s sadistic beau Orin, complete with alarming smile and the sleek de rigueur coiffure of mid-20th-century leather-clad bikers. This is something of an achievement given the over-the-top characterisation required by the style of the production; in his case it’s more extreme than that of the other main personae.
All of them evince a noticeable tongue-in-cheek element in their approach to portrayal, no doubt at the urging of director Stead – which mitigates the horror of the plot.
The main protagonist is the voracious Audrey II, whose existence we follow from seedling to terrifying adult plant. A major strength of this show is the personality instilled into the puppet to give the illusion of a living monster; full marks to puppeteer Brandon Moulder and throaty-voiced Tim Wells, who between them breathe life into a fanciful creation of fabric and baubles.
No Little Shop production would be complete without a glamorous trio of females to underscore the plot’s progress with song and dance; they recall those girl groups of the ’50s with their lightning costume changes and relentless energy in the execution of percussive, foot-tapping music. Dionne Song, Chantal Herman and Lelo Ramasimong muster all the requisite vocal power and are collectively easy on the eye as they do so.
An evening of memorable fun to please a wide spectrum of taste, highly recommended.