(L-R) Mueen Jahan, James Byous, and Ruby Lewis in “Little Shop of Horrors” From Altadena Music Theatre (Photo – Abel Armas Photography)
When the late writer-lyricist Howard Ashman was barely into his teens, he discovered the original Roger Corman 1960 *Little Shop of Horrors*. In the glory of its modest production value, Yiddish-Catskills humor, and ultra-goofy Jack Nicholson vignette, Ashman’s attachment to the film began a project of amazing self-empowerment.
By Marilyn Fuss
Twenty years later, he had bought the rights to the original movie from Corman, rewritten it with his musical partner at Disney, Alan Menken, and finally presented it successfully off-Broadway, creating a peak event in quirky humor that we may consider a classic. Later still, the more familiar 1986 movie, directed by Frank Oz, appeared, with fewer witty songs, a happier ending, and a devoted following, very likely including the reader. Ashman’s style, melding with the original film that grabbed him like the adult Audrey II, remains in both adaptations, perhaps helping define his life, which ended at age 40.
With Sarah Azcarate’s direction, the stars of this Altadena Music Theatre production of *Little Shop of Horrors* bring hilarious timing and appropriate energy to a purposely inappropriate comedy. It is loosely set in NYC’s Skid Row, before a structural set by Andrew Hull that could belong in a museum installation with Red Grooms and Claes Oldenburg. The time is mid-20th century, as in the Music Theatre’s recent *Grease*. The two musicals also share their featured muse, the engaging Ruby Lewis; each has a different obsessively determined young male, both played by James Byous, who, as Seymour, is a grown orphan perpetually beleaguered, ultimately by his own actions. Robert Manion appears in both shows—in the current one with all his convincing characters, including the sadist-dentist boyfriend Orin Scrivello. He could be on a level with Lon Chaney, the man of 1,000 faces. The general blocking of the characters on the stage, and the choreography by Noel Bajandas, which at times hearkens to little vaudeville routines (again, the Catskill entertainers’ influence on the writers), succeeds very well in keeping the flow of funniness going under the shadowy premise.
Both productions this season have fresh and comic versions of a Greek chorus underscoring their events: *Grease* has the Teen Angels, and *Shop* the florist’s neighbors Crystal, Chiffon, and Ronnette, ably sung by Avela Fongoqa, Shantilly Tuazon, and Auriaa. Robby Devillez is at the amazing works behind Audrey II, while Lord Kraven stands on his very own bass-baritone as her personified voice, evoking the great Levi Stubbs, who was audible in the ’86 movie. Mueen Jahan is mesmerizing in how convincing he is as Mushnik, with the schtick of his hangdog mood and faltering business before the new exotic plant is struck into major growth by the solar force of a total eclipse. Then there is his sudden onset of affection toward Seymour when it looks as if the plant he bought to draw customers will have the desired effect.
Audrey II’s requirement of blood to continue to thrive, and her wan-ness without it, makes her akin to Dracula. And as Seymour acquires more material goods because of his success in getting the plant to grow larger still by feeding it entire bodies of others, he’s more and more like Faust entering a contract with the devil. Yet the songs and the dialogue keep delighting the audience. Dr. Orin Scrivello, the woman-abuser overdosing on dentist drugs, alternates silliness with wickedness. Yet, because the script and the timing between him and Audrey are so in-step, the audience roars when, in Audrey’s constant apologies to Scrivello, he insists that she complete all her pleas or apologies by addressing him formally as “Doctah” in her Brooklyn accent. When he falls down and seems to be fading, Seymour simply doesn’t help—it’s a crime of omission—and we had heard the tune repeating in the background: “The guy sure looks like plant food to me…..” We are complicit, or could be for a while. The ending events are more noir, and perhaps more likely, than in the movies. Yet, scurrying to stand up to appreciate it all at the finale, the audience never really stops laughing.
(L-R) Avela Fongoqa, Shantilly Tuazon, and Auriaa (Photo – Abel Armas Photography)
Little Shop of Horrors By Altadena Music Theatre Just added: Wednesday, September 9, 2026 All performances begin at 8:00 pm: - Wednesday, September 9 - Thursday, September 10 - Friday, September 11 - Saturday, September 12 - Sunday, September 13 Location At Mountain View Mausoleum 2300 N. Marengo Ave. Altadena Buy tickets at this link.
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