Little Shop of Horrors at Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre – review

Sheffield Crucible’s determination to throw everything at Little Shop of Horrors as its Christmas musical produces a lavish (possibly over-lavish at times) production with many numbers being built into ensemble pieces for the large company and a spectacular re-design of the plant, Audrey II. Generally, this is the responsibility of the puppeteer as it grows and grows. Director Amy Hodge opts for a real-life Audrey II: as she moves towards world domination, Sam Buttery dons the greenery and delivers a powerfully soulful “Feed Me”, looming ominously over the action thereafter.

The plot is, of course, deceptively simple, but desperately bizarre. Mr Mushnik decides to close down his Skid Row florist’s shop – no trade! His assistant Seymour has been working on developing new plants and persuades him to make a display of a particularly interesting specimen, Audrey II, named after the other assistant Audrey who is in an abusive relationship with a dentist. This succeeds, but at a price, as it becomes obvious that Audrey II needs human blood to grow – and that’s what she gets, starting with the dentist himself. Seymour provides the victim and is now torn between growing fame and gnawing guilt – and it doesn’t end happily!

Hodges’ direction is, I imagine, far more elaborate than the show Howard Ashman and Alan Menken put on at New York’s WPA Theatre in 1982. It makes full use of Georgia Lowe’s designs, with plenty of wheely bins for characters to pop out of, a plant that covers the stage by the end with Buttery in the middle of it all and a nine-piece band under Chris Poon perched above. It could have been all too much. That it isn’t is down to the humanity of the three central performances – and here we come to the next oddity which, on due reflection, I am quite happy with.

Colin Ryan’s innocently criminal Seymour, devoted to Audrey, invariably clumsy and desperately trying to please, is all the more delightful because of an accent that originates in the (English) Black Country – and so with all the others from different parts of England. The contrast with the songs jars at times, but identifying with the characters proves easier. Georgina Onuorah invests Audrey with real dignity – even when trying to explain her devotion to the dentist – and sings her big song, “Somewhere That’s Green”, with touching sincerity. And Michael Matus plays the irate employer to perfection, with “Mushnik and Son” being a comedic high point.

The three street urchins, Lizzy-Rose Esin-Kelly, Paige Fenlon and Charlotte Jaconelli, make the most of Menken’s 60s-girl group songs and a final touch of the bizarre comes from Wilf Scolding (as Orin), arriving leather-jacketed on a scooter, stripping off to reveal his profession in “Be A Dentist”. One of the most chilling moments of the evening comes with his open contempt for Audrey alongside his icy politeness.

The production is not authentic Ashman and Menken, but it succeeds in wrenching their original into a successful new form.