Iconic roles reinvented by a supremely stellar cast and a production design that’s nothing short of original make Pasadena Playhouse’s powerhouse Little Shop Of Horrors unlike any Little Shop you’ve ever seen.

The now classic 1950s B-movie horror flick spoof centers on grown-up orphan Seymour Krelborn (George Salazar, fresh from his Drama Desk Award-nominated performance in Broadway’s Be More Chill), longtime clerk at Mushnik’s Skid Row Florists, the crummiest and least successful flower shop in town.

Fortunately for Seymour and his coworker Audrey (Mj Rodriguez, the sensational breakout star of FX’s Pose), the first customer they’ve had in days is so charmed and fascinated by the “strange and interesting plant” that Seymour happened upon soon after a total eclipse of the sun (and quickly named Audrey II) that he buys $100 worth of roses, and before long, business is booming, the shop’s cranky owner Mr. Mushnik (Kevin Chamberlin, ten Broadway shows and counting) is thinking of adopting Seymour, the latter is finding it harder and harder to think of the lovely Audrey as a mere work colleague, and Audrey is wondering if Seymour might just be the knight in armor who can rescue her from her sadistic dentist boyfriend Orin Scrivello D.D.S. (Matthew Wilkas, a recent scene-stealer in Celebration Theatre’s Born To Win).

There’s just one problem with Audrey II (voiced offstage by Glee’s Amber Riley). The strange and interesting plant has a craving for blood, human blood, and the drops Seymour provides from his increasingly ravaged fingers are soon nowhere near enough to satisfy its cravings. Audrey II wants a body’s worth of blood, and it wants Seymour to supply it posthaste.

Mike Donahue’s ingenious direction, choreographer Will B. Bell’s infectious ‘50s dance moves, Daryl Archibald’s razor-sharp musical direction, Danae Iris McQueen’s striking costumes (with special snaps to Audrey’s fresh new look), and Josh Eptein’s realistic-meets-spooky lighting are just what the revival doctor ordered for a show that’s been staged to death by regional, intimate, community, and school theaters alike, and conductor John Gentry Tennyson scores high marks too as does Veronika Vorel’s crystal-clear sound design.

I’m less enthusiastic about Dane Laffrey’s admittedly original scenic design, one that for some reason or other situates Mushnik’s flower shop in what looks to be an abandoned, florescent-ceiling-lit downtown office building with a Sean Cawelti-directed-and-design shadow-puppet show curiously framing the narrative, and most significantly, an Audrey II that may be the most adorable little magenta plant in Audrey II history but curiously stays the same size throughout, prompting the question, where are those humongous puppeteer-manipulated tentacles coming from? (Your guess is as good as mine.)

Fortunately, any reservations this reviewer might have about the production’s design concept pale in comparison with its spectacular (and spectacularly diverse) cast.

Cuddly isn’t a word I’d normally used to describe Seymour Krelborn, but it’s the first adjective to pop into my head when describing leading man Salazar, who not only provides Seymour’s requisite nerdy-cuteness and top-notch vocals but gives the role a darkness and depth that makes Salazar’s performance a true standout.

The exquisite Rodriguez breaks new ground too as a tough-but-tender inner-city Audrey nothing at all like the blonde bimbo we’ve seen umpteen times before, and when Pose’s Blanca Evangelista sings “Somewhere That’s Green” with a longing and ache so palpable it will break your heart, expect to award it the evening’s loudest cheers.

Wilkas makes Orin’s joie de drilling so downright irresistible that the evil lying just beneath the surface proves even more shocking, and in case you’re wondering who plays the eccentric flower shop customer who sets things in motion, fast-talking NBC exec Mr. Bernstein, elegant Life Magazine editor’s wife Mrs. Luce, slick super agent Skip Snip, and opportunistic entrepreneur Patrick Martin, look no further than the supremely versatile Wilkas.

 A terrific Chamberlin gives Mushnik sinister shadings others have missed in a role usually played as nothing more than an avuncular comedic charmer.

As for Brittany Campbell’s Ronnette, Tickwanya Jones’s Chiffon, and Cheyenne Isabel Wells’s Crystal, rarely have all three Urchin charmers had such superstar pipes, and the same can be said for a heard-but-not-seen Riley’s Audrey II, instantly recognizable to Mercedes Jones fans near and far.

Last but not least, ninja-clad puppeteers Tyler Bremer, Kelsey Kato, Tim Kopacz, and Paul Turbiak earn their own cheers as does puppet wrangler Sarah Kay Peters.

Jill Gold is production stage manager. Casting is by Telsey + Co and Ryan Tymensky, CSA. Jennifer Slattery is associate producer. Brad Enlow is technical director and production supervisor.

Unlike Little Shop Of Horrors’ play-it-safe 2003 Broadway remake, Pasadena Playhouse’s 2019 L.A. revival isn’t afraid to take risks. Though not all of them pay off, for its fabulous cast alone, this is one Little Shop you won’t want to miss.

Pasadena Playhouse, 39 South El Molino Ave., Pasadena.
www.pasadenaplayhouse.org

–Steven Stanley
September 25, 2019
Photos: Jenny Graham

Tags: Alan Menken, Howard Ashman, Los Angeles Theater Review, Pasadena Playhouse