Some plays are just theatrical candy: they're tasty, fun, energizing and, if they lack any deeper nutritional value, well, who's complaining? Delicious singing, sugarcoated acting, and a set piece better than anything in a Crackerjack box — these are the elements of a sweet evening of theater, to be consumed without regret. The confection that I'm referring to is Little Shop of Horrors, currently playing at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center; and if your diet allows for such fluff, you'll want to roll up your nickels right away and buy a ticket. Thanks to the fine acting of Jonathan Harrison and Heather Krueger, and the tip-top singing of Krueger, Kissy Simmons, Yolonda Williams and Marliss Amiea, Little Shop is an abundantly pleasing act of theater, a 3-D cartoon for adults and children that'll have you looking twice the next time you wander into a garden armed with nothing but a watering can.
The play's simple plot concerns a skid-row florist named Mushnik (Robert Motz) and his employees Seymour (Harrison) and Audrey (Krueger). Mushnik is about to shutter his failing business when milquetoast Seymour shows him a bizarre-looking plant that he's named "Audrey Two." The plant seems to be some sort of flytrap — but more importantly, it attracts customers, and money, into the business. There's one little problem, though. One day when Seymour is searching for a way to stimulate the plant's growth, he accidentally pricks his finger — and the plant responds, immediately and hungrily. That's right, it wants blood; and the healthier it gets, the bigger its appetite. Soon Seymour is being driven to undreamed of crimes, and the plant — well, it only gets hungrier and more demanding.
Now, this decidedly improbable plot just begs for comic treatment, and that's exactly what it gets in Howard Ashman's always amusing script and lyrics. For example, the characters are really caricatures: Seymour's a mild-mannered klutz, Audrey's a hopeless and battered romantic, Audrey's lover is a sadistic dentist, and the famous plant is an Attitude with an Appetite. Ashman's lyrics are cleverly pointed at times — as when Orin the dentist (Christopher Tarjan) sings about how he discovered his vocation ("You have a talent for causing things pain/ Son, be a dentist!/ People will pay you to be inhumane") or when the Girl Group (Simmons, Williams and Amiea) challenges Petula Clark's view of "Downtown" ("Downtown/ Where the Folks Are Broke/ You Go/ Downtown/ Where Your Life's a Joke").
To make matters better, Alan Menken's music is melodious and catchy — increasingly rare attributes in the contemporary musical. Menken is particularly good at providing melodies to the Girl Group — sometimes reminiscent of '50s doo-wop, sometimes redolent of Motown. And though the male singers in the show are seldom top-drawer in their crooning, the women are universally terrific and easily make the evening worthwhile. Claude McNeal's direction is effervescent, Stan Collins' music direction is note-perfect, Rick Criswell's costumes are just right.
And now a word about Audrey Two. Maybe the most memorable actor in the show is the plant itself (managed by Ron Foster). It just gets bigger and uglier in virtually every scene. I don't want to overdo it: In fact, Martin P. Robinson's puppets are harmless-looking enough to turn up in a toy store, and even at its most carnivorous the hungry plant never really seems to endanger any of the live actors. But even with its stuffed-animal heritage, there's something wonderful about a prop that (eventually) dominates the stage, something charming in the way it asks the audience to make an imaginative leap and think of it as a villain par excellence.
This is one of the things that theater does better than film — it asks for, and rewards, the audience's effort to fantasize. So sure, we'll pretend that this plush, overstuffed vegetable poses a threat; and we'll enjoy the play even more, for allowing us these moments of audience-actor collusion.
All right, it's just candy. It's a few hundred empty calories, and not a major nutrient in sight.
But it sure tastes good.
Bernstein in Tampa. A few days ago, a monthlong arts festival celebrating the work of composer Leonard Bernstein began at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center. Titled Bernstein, Broadway, The Bomb — The Age of Anxiety, the multimedia festival features theater, opera, dance, poetry and jazz improvisation. And it looks to be one of the most entertaining and informative arts events of the year.
A few highlights:
From Feb. 7-24, Arthur Miller's play The Crucible opens at the Shimberg Playhouse. Written in response to the McCarthy commie-hunts, this story of the Salem witch trials also happens to be one of the most suspenseful, gripping plays of the 20th century.
On Feb. 9 and 10 at the Carol Morsani Hall, Opera Tampa presents Basically Bernstein, a two-part tribute consisting of the fully-staged one-act Bernstein opera Trouble in Tahiti and a concert performance of suites from two Berstein musicals — West Side Story and Candide.
On Feb. 16 at the Louise Lykes Ferguson Hall, the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange, noted for its use of young and elderly dancers together, presents a world premiere based on Bernstein's life and work.
Then on Feb. 19, James Tokley, Tampa's Poet Laureate, and other noted Bay area poets and actors read works by 1940s-1960s authors such as Theodore Roethke, J.D. Salinger, Gwendolyn Brooks and Anne Sexton. The event, at the Shimberg Playhouse is free, but reserve your seat early: call 813-222-1055.
On Feb. 23, the Tampa Bay Youth Orchestra and Junior Symphony combine in a musical retrospective of Bernstein's work, using the explanatory format of his famous Young People's Concerts. The concert is at the Ferguson Hall.
And finally, on Feb. 24 pianists Dick Hyman and Derek Smith join reed-players Frank Wess and Ken Peplowski at the Ferguson Hall for a series of jazz improvisations inspired by Bernstein's wonderful music.
This is only a partial list of events: there are also lectures, an art exhibit, and a film at the Tampa Theatre. Put it all together and it provides a fine opportunity to think about how our present anxieties got their start 50 years ago.
Catch this fascinating festival if you can. For tickets, call TBPAC at 813-229-STAR.
mark.leib@weeklyplanet.com or call 813-248-8888, ext. 305.
This article appears in Feb 6-12, 2002.
