Time Out Magazine
By
Andrew Aldridge
This camp musical about a flower shop assistant who enters into a Faustian pact with an oversized, bone-crunching plant might have worked on the wide screen, but in the confines of a south London pub theatre it looks decidedly dishevelled. That is not down to the cast, which attacks Howard Ashman's book and lyrics with an enjoyable line in overbearing schmaltz, but the fact that the dark, Gothic streak that runs through Roger Corman's 1960 film doesn't translate on to the stage. Part of the problem lies with the book itself, which, for much of the first act, wheels on an assortment of New York stereotypes like a toy factory production line. Here is Mushnik, the broke flower shop owner. Meet Seymour, his edgy, cardigan-sporting employee. Who is this? It's Audrey, the helium-voiced dolly-bird who is being abused by her violent boyfriend Orin. It is the nature of camp to turn bad characters into worthwhile entertainment, but director and choreographer Paul Tate doesn't pull it off. That said, some of the performances are enjoyable in their own right. Harry Dickman's Mushnik is an engaging cross between a mad professor and Woody Allen, while Sarah-Jane Bourne (Audrey) and Chris Vincent (Seymour) strike the right level of detached goofiness as the two unlikely lovers. Best of all is Richard Swerrun's deranged dentist Orin (imagine if Eddie Cochrane had starred in "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"). But without these gutsy actors, there wouldn't be much to chew on here.
The Stage, Thursday 31st May 2001
This musical spoff of the fifties and sixties horror movie genre by Howard Ashman (book and lyrics) and Alan Menken (music) is amost 20 years old now, but still retains its charm and appeal in a fast-paced production which is directed and choreographed by Paul Tate. Set in a flower shop on Skid Row, run by Mr Mushnik (the splendid Harry Dickman) and his assistants Seymour (Chris Vincent) and the kooie Audrey (Sarah-Jane Bourne), it traces the rise of a plant called Audrey II (Mark Edison/John Danbury) whose favourite tipple is human blood with a little flesh on the side.
Orin Scrivello, the substance-sniffing sadistic dentist and 'leader of the plaque' with the rusty drill ("it's an antique"), who is beautifully played by Richard Swerrun, becomes one of the creature's victims, and among the survivors is a terriffic, appropriately named close harmony trio consisting of Chiffon (Hayley Ince), Crystal (Laura Roxburgh) and Ronnette (Alice Redmond).
Script and songs blend perfectly, and there are soome hilarious, poignnant and wickedly witty moments in a production where everyone is perfectly cast. Suddenly Seymour, Suppertime, Mushnik and Son, and Audrey's dreamy 'Something That's Green', are among the songs that linger in the memory, but this is one of those shows in which the whole is more important than its individual parts.
Musical director Dan Jackson leads the nicely swinging quartet, Suzy Humphries desinged the pleaseant, efficient set, and Susan Hale's colourful costumes enchanced an overall excellent production.
John Martland.
