After their inaugural season struck gold with the latest reworking of Chess, a jubilant celebration of In the Heights, and a megawatt production of Pulitzer Prize winner How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, all of which rivaled or improved upon their latest Broadway incarnations, The Broadway Center Stage concert series at the Kennedy Center has set a high standard with their ambitious and impressive pop-up musicals. If their lead-off production of the Howard Ashman/Alan Menken masterpiece Little Shop of Horrors, supremely directed by Mark Brokaw, is any indication, their sophomore season should prove to be equally or more successful. Brilliantly based on the Roger Corman 60’s (nonmusical) schlock horror film, Ashman and Menken created perhaps the most perfect small cast show ever written. Years before Disney gave them the exposure they deserved in the late 80’s Renaissance of animation (The Little Mermaid, Beauty & the Beast, Aladdin), Ashman and Menken raised a bar for small musicals that has arguably never been topped. Ashman’s script and lyrics are funny, smart, concise, universal, and exceptionally clever, and Menken composed his career defining score. Their original off-Broadway production definitively introduced their iconic tragi-comic characters, and time has proven easier to go wrong with this piece (as the overly sterile movie, while still one of the best adaptations of its day, proved in failing to capture the innate warmth and charm) than it is right. Brokaw, who has assembled a flawless cast, obviously understands the piece and nails it.
As the underappreciated nebbish at the center of Ashman’s Faustian tale of selling one’s soul for a shot at happiness, Josh Radnor (How I Met Your Mother, Rise, Mercy Street) is an endearing and winsome loser as anti-hero Seymour Krelbourne. Breaking with the erroneous prototype of the last generation (wrongly established by a generation of unimaginative directors who saw Rick Moranis in the movie), Radnor proves that Seymour need not be short or nerdy. Tall and attractive, Radnor gives us a Seymour whose shortcomings are not his looks or his physique, but his insecurity and his low self-worth. Radnor is a congenial, relatable, and ultimately sympathetic everyman whose well-honed comic timing and solid vocals provide a strong core on which to center the tale.
Paired with him in the pivotal role of Audrey, his object of desire from way, way afar, Megan Hilty (Smash, Wicked, 9 to 5) pulls off the seemingly impossible. With movie star beauty, comedic charms, and powerhouse vocals, Hilty is clearly a star, yet completely blends into a strong ensemble, shining brightly yet never overshadowing her costars. She and Radnor have a winsome chemistry. Original Audrey Ellen Greene has defined the iconic character in a way that has handicapped virtually every actress to ever follow her, both in character and vocal expectations. Stray too far vocally, either under-singing or, worse, over-singing, and the role is disastrous. Making her a cartoon and missing the vulnerability is inexcusable. Hilty is perhaps the first since Greene’s debut to pay homage where necessary but color within Greene’s defining lines with her own palette. Hilty has a powerful belt and exquisite comic timing. Her Audrey is a reinvention all her own. Her signature solo “Somewhere That’s Green” is fragile and introspective. But she provides the vocal high point of the evening when unleashing audience favorite “Suddenly, Seymour”, somehow blowing the roof off the Kennedy Center yet still blending with Radnor and the Urchins. New York has some explaining to do as to why this versatile, beautiful, and extremely engaging performer has not received a star vehicle of her own to celebrate her unique talent. (This critic is keeping his fingers crossed that she lands Mona in the anticipated Best Little Whorehouse in Texas revival.)
In a turn of inspired casting, Lee Wilkof has a distinct advantage as put-upon florist Mr. Mushnik, having gained initial fame with his most legendary credit, as the show’s original Seymour opposite Greene. Having been present for the birth of this classic, and having obviously studied under its master author, he understands all the subtleties of Mushnik’s relationships with each character, especially, no surprise, with Radnor in his former role. His Mushnik dances with the stereotypes of the old Jewish shop owner but never becomes a cartoon or falls into the trap of being too overbearing. He is a delight when he pulls out all the comic stops leading his former alter ego through their tango of love and loathing, “Mushnik & Son.”
Nick Cordero (A Bronx Tale, Waitress, Bullets Over Broadway) seems to be seated comfortably in his wheelhouse of intimidating thugs as not-so-nice guy and semi-sadist Orin Scrivello (DDS!). He elicits dark laughs in his twisted ode to occupational S&M, “Dentist!”, and provides the darkest of the dark moments, genuinely making the audience cringe and squirm in his abusive treatment of our delicate heroine. But Cordero alternately shines when he compliments that darkness with a slew of fast-change comical characters as he portrays everyone else in the show, characters as varied as an enthused botanist, a sleazy Hollywood agent, and Mrs. Luce from Life Magazine. But his best moment is when his demented dentist meets his end in a twist of events that mixes his menacing words with chemically-induced laughter in his half of “It’s Just the Gas.”
Worth special praise are the critical trio of high-octane street urchins who can make or break any production, smartly designed by Ashman and Menken to be our de facto narrators in the form of a makeshift girl group from the streets. Cleverly named Crystal, Ronnette, and Chiffon (think about it) the equally dynamic Amber Iman, Amma Osei, and Allison Semmes, respectively, seem to be a prefabricated girl group, manned with killer vocals, corset-tight harmonies, and diva attitude. They inject continuous bursts of vitality and vivacity as they lead us on the journey of their cautionary tale. Iman, Osei, and Semmes have a solid group chemistry yet maintain their individual personas. The last time this critic saw an urchin trio this dynamic and vital to the show was when nearby Olney landed explosive then-unknowns Tisha Campbell, Tichina Arnold, and Michelle Weeks in the window between when they shot and released the movie in 1986. Hopefully, these talented ladies will follow a similar career trajectory of their predecessors.
In perhaps Brokaw’s most inspired and inventive touch, Michael James Leslie reprises his role from the 2003 Broadway production and following national tour as the malevolent plant Audrey II. Not the voice of Audrey II, the actual plant. In one of the rare downsizing elements of the concert, Brokaw has dispensed with designing or buying the massive physical puppetry that takes precious rehearsal time with puppeteers. Instead he wheels out the hilariously deadpan Leslie, clad in green and florals, who comes to hyper-animated life at the prospect of a feeding frenzy. As he feeds and grows, so does his physical presence, with his costume becoming bigger and flashier until he is both literally and metaphorically completely over the top. The device in lesser hands could seem cheap, lazy, or downright silly. But in Leslie’s green-gloved paws under Brokaw’s expert guidance, it’s a delightful, unexpected payoff.
In addition to impeccable casting and masterful direction of the show as a whole, Brokaw has also assembled a top-notch technical team to enhance his vision. As to be expected with this series, the tech elements aren’t grandiose or show-stopping but certainly exceed what is required. Donyale Rodriguez’s concise set design, aided by Alex Basco Koch’s impressive background projections, works around the standard scaffold nucleus that also houses the stage orchestra. But Rodriguez adds smart touches to plus his base stage, potted plants and store signage that upgrade and improve to reflect how the star plant blossoms and blooms. Cory Pattak’s taut lighting design varies from bright to moody to menacing to follow the action of the story. Jen Caprio’s sturdy costume designs are reflective of the characters as we expect them, but given the opportunity that none of the other productions have, she devotes her creativity to an impressive arc for the reinvented character of the plant, drawing influences from disco to Shaft to Elton John. No character outside Wicked has ever looked so good in so much green.
Although by far not a dance show like last season’s impressive How to Succeed in Business…, choreographer Spencer Lift nonetheless works within the scope of small musicals and the standard girl group movement vocabulary to keep the show charged with energy and flash, doing visual justice to Menken and Ashman’s perfect score. Special note must also go to Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra and the music direction of Joey Chancey. They rock Menken’s classic score, and take focus to tear up one of the best entr’actes in modern musical theatre. Kai Harada also deserves major credit for his superb sound design which balances the rock band and power vocals into a perfect blend throughout.
As usual, the only regrets of this production are the fact that it runs only a mere five performances. If only this show could receive a limited Broadway run, or better, be taped for prosperity and shown on PBS or limited theatre release, to reach a larger audience as it deserves. But that not being the case, follow the advice of Crystal, Ronnette, and Chiffon, and run, don’t walk, to see the strange and interesting new plant that has taken up residence at Mushnik’s Skid Row Florists. They may ask you for a dollar (and the Kennedy Center for decidedly more on top of that), but it’s worth the investment for the chance to see this stellar cast in this flawless classic musical before it’s too late.
Running Time: 2 hours with one intermission
Little Shop of Horrors plays through October 28, 2018, as a part of the Broadway Center Stage Concert Series in the Eisenhower Theatre at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, 2700 F Street NW, Washington, DC. For tickets call the box office at (202) 467-4600 or purchase them online.
