By Jeanni Ritchie
It was 1998, and I’d just received a callback for one of the three urchins in a City Park Players’ production of Little Shop of Horrors.
I didn’t get the part, but I fell in love with the show.
Perhaps I wasn’t quite convincing enough as a street-smart resident of Skid Row. But Shai Petersen-Gordon (Chiffon), Ja’La Gulliver (Crystal), and Jada Fisher (Ronnette) had no trouble bringing the sass to the LSUA Empty Space Players’ production of Little Shop of Horrors over the Halloween weekend.
The musical follows Seymour (the adorable Conner Shows), a rather awkward flower-shop employee whose life takes a bizarre turn when he discovers a strange and interesting plant with an unusual appetite.
And by unusual, I mean HUMAN!
Seymour. Buddy. We need to talk.
You discover that your new plant thrives on human blood, and your first thought is to KEEP FEEDING IT?!
Most people see a struggling plant and reach for water, sunlight, maybe a little Miracle-Gro. But not Seymour. Seymour apparently thinks opening a vein is a perfectly reasonable gardening technique.
And when the thing starts TALKING? That’s your cue to RUN, Seymour! Not negotiate a meal plan!
Meanwhile, Seymour works for Mr. Mushnik (Khloe Wolfe) and is hopelessly smitten with his coworker Audrey (Sidney Strong), whose taste in men leaves something to be desired. I feel ya, Audrey.
Enter Orin Scrivello (Brayden Smith), a dentist whose bedside manner makes a root canal sound positively delightful.
Now, if you’re picturing Steve Martin’s leather-clad, laughing-gas-loving lunatic from the 1986 movie, think again. This Orin is a different breed of nightmare. He’s abusive, narcissistic, and so thoroughly despicable that I wanted to climb onto the stage and slap him every time he opened his mouth.
And that darker tone wasn’t limited to the dentist. The entire Empty Space Players’ production leaned into the twisted spirit of the original 1960 horror comedy rather than the more playful 1986 film starring Rick Moranis and Steve Martin. There were plenty of laughs, but they came with a sinister edge. After all, when your leading attraction is a carnivorous alien with a taste for human flesh, perhaps happily ever after shouldn’t be on the menu.
Smith was phenomenal in the role. I absolutely loved his performance. His character? Not so much! I’m not the only one who cheered when he became dinner for the man-eating alien plant from outer space.
Speaking of that plant…
Forget the flowerpot. Audrey II came dressed to KILL!
Decked out in a sparkling black jacket, draped in gold chains, and sporting a fabulous flourish of green foliage, Blake Oliver stole the show every time he stepped onstage as the plant personified. Part Vegas headliner, part botanical nightmare, his Audrey II had enough sparkle, swagger, and attitude to make even the sassiest resident of Skid Row look downright shy.
Forget a green thumb. This plant had star power!
And honestly, how often does the biggest diva in a musical turn out to be a homicidal houseplant? Oliver didn’t just steal the spotlight. He practically swallowed it whole.
“Feed me, Seymour!”
The music was equally entertaining, with energetic choreography and memorable musical performances. Among my favorite numbers were Suddenly, Seymour; Dentist!; and my personal favorite, Skid Row (Downtown).
And those three urchins? They had front-row seats to the worst decision-making in Skid Row history! Seymour’s harvesting bodies for a houseplant, Audrey’s dating a walking restraining order, and apparently nobody in this neighborhood has an ounce of common sense. But those girls saw EVERY red flag waving, and they weren’t about to let the train wreck unfold without at least providing a soundtrack. In perfect three-part harmony, and backed by a fabulous ensemble, no less!
Meanwhile, a live band, under the direction of Ellene Owens, blended into the set while keeping the music flowing. Between the lively score, the street-smart commentary, and a plant with an insatiable appetite, there was never a dull moment on Skid Row.
Directed by Patrick Hunter, the production was a reminder of something I’ve come to appreciate about Central Louisiana’s vibrant arts community. Our local theater groups aren’t simply producing their own shows in isolation. They’re supporting one another.
Theatre people are a different breed. A night off? Why relax when there’s another company’s set to paint, a missing prop to find, or a costume emergency to solve five minutes before curtain?
You may not feel like you belong anywhere else, but when you walk into the theatre, you know you’ve been welcomed home.
Of course, someone’s probably going to put a paintbrush in your hand!
But the best part is, even in the tight-knit arts world, there’s always room for one more.
