The cast of Little Shop of Horrors at the Pasadena Playhouse (Photo credit: Jenny Graham)
The cast of Little Shop of Horrors at the Pasadena Playhouse (Photo credit: Jenny Graham)

Little Shop of Horrors

Reviewed by Katie Buenneke
Pasadena Playhouse
Through October 20

Little Shop of Horrors is a beloved show, near and dear to many musical theater aficionados’ hearts. It’s widely licensed, meaning many people have seen (or been in) a non-professional production of the show (this critic performed in the show in high school), and it was the musical that got Alan Menken and Howard Ashman on the map. Together, they went on to write songs for The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast , and part of Aladdin, before Ashman died of complications from AIDS.

So it’s a shame that the production now playing at the Pasadena Playhouse is so underwhelming. Despite strong, additive casting, director Mike Donahue’s choices undermine the show’s text and result in a production that feels slight.

For those unfamiliar with the plot, it follows Seymour (George Salazar), an awkward young man who works in a flower shop with Audrey (Mj Rodriguez). Seymour has a tremendous crush on Audrey (who’s in an abusive relationship with a sociopathic dentist, played by Matthew Wilkas), so when he comes across a strange plant, he names it Audrey II. The plant’s strangeness brings attention to the struggling plant shop, much to the delight of the shop’s owner, Mr. Mushnik (Kevin Chamberlin). But Audrey II doesn’t survive on plant food and water — no, the plant (voiced by Amber Riley) will only grow when fed human blood. The action throughout is narrated and commented upon by a Greek chorus of street urchins, played here by Brittany Campbell, Tickwanya Jones, and Cheyenne Isabel Wells.

This is a stripped-down production, with minimal sets and props, and a lean cast; the show, which is often filled out with an ensemble, relies on Wilkas and Audrey II’s puppeteers to step into some minor roles. This, combined with feeble sound design and sparse orchestrations (two keyboards, a guitar, a drummer, and a bass), gives a sense that this production is too thin for the Playhouse’s large space. The props and costumes indicate that Donahue has made the perplexing choice to set the show in the present day, which creates some tremendous idiosyncrasies. At one point, a new-looking dentist’s chair emerges from the floor, like something you’d find in any dentist’s office post-2008 or so. Wilkas’s dentist picks up a clean instrument that looks brand new as the following dialogue takes place:

Seymour: What’s that?

Dentist: That’s the drill, Seymour!

Seymour: It’s rusty!

Dentist: It’s an antique. They don’t make instruments like this anymore. Sturdy, heavy, dull.

Audrey II in this production is also pink, which would be an inconsequential design choice if there weren’t a heartbreaking joke that depends upon the plant being green. Confusingly, the plant does not grow in size after being fed — it remains the same small size, but seems to have a growing doppelgänger that only occasionally exists.

Fortunately, this production has a few things going for it, and they all come in the form of casting. George Salazar is perfectly cast as Seymour, and it’s nice to see the actor, who has often played quirky best friend characters in the past, step into a quirky leading man role. And Amber Riley is fantastic as the voice of Audrey II, a role often voiced by a man in professional productions. Their duet, “Feed Me (Git It),” is far and away the highlight of the show. Both are phenomenal vocalists, and the number really lets them shine. Rodriguez’s lower register is beautiful, and her duet with Salazar on “Suddenly, Seymour” is entrancing.

Rodriguez’s casting also brings layers of subtext to the role, as research shows that transgender women, and especially trans women of color, face higher rates of violence, and especially physical violence by an intimate partner, than the wider population does. In a recent L.A. Times interview, Rodriguez expressed that she doesn’t necessarily want to invite speculation about whether Audrey, the character, is transgender or cisgender, but casting a name actor in any role requires casting and contending with that actor’s personal backstory in the role, whether it’s Leonardo DiCaprio in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood or Rodriguez, who stars in the FX show Pose, in Little Shop. In an ideal world, it would go without mentioning that Rodriguez is a trans woman, because the practice of casting transgender and nonbinary actors in cisgender roles should be commonplace and normalized, but sadly, such casting is uncommon.

Across the board, the performers are solid. This helps the production a lot, because even when the director’s vision is limited, the performances keep the show from being unwatchable. But Little Shop’s source material is so strong that it’s a shame that, despite good casting, this production is middling at best.

Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena; Tues.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; through Oct. 20. PasadenaPlayhouse.org. Running time: two hours, with a 20-minute intermission.