Little Shop of Horrors (1986)

So, it's all a bit complicated.

In the beginning (specifically, in 1960) there was the original Little Shop of Horrors, which was created by Roger Corman in a spare studio backlot after somebody bet him he couldn't make an entire movie in 9 days. It was a darkly amusing little story about a killer plant with a young Jack Nicholson in his first cinematic role, and while I'm not sure if it did great box office it was certainly an intriguing piece. So intriguing, in fact, that it was eventually turned into a stage musical. The musical, meanwhile, was so warmly received that eventually it got turned right back into a movie, and this is what I'm going to be discussing today.

I know I often talk at great length about the squeamishness of my younger self. Even with the horror themes, however, I always knew I'd like the 1986 musical version, and so it was probably the early 90s when I first saw it, tentatively, through spread fingers and sometimes through tightly shut ones. Even then, though, I was enchanted.

It's a simple enough story - boy (Seymour Krelbourn, played by Rick Moranis) meets girl (Broadway player Ellen Greene as Audrey), boy meets mysterious wish-granting plant (Audrey II, brought to life by Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops plus an army of puppeteers), plant persuades boy to help in world domination plot, boy decides he'd rather not, and then war ensues between boy and plant with girl as pawn. The setting is, I'm guessing, somewhere around the early to mid 1960s, and while the music is pure Broadway it takes its cues from the classic rock'n'roll of that period.

What follows will probably not be an entirely unbiased weighing up of the film's strengths and failings...

The good

 

If you want a reason to watch this one, the above scene should be everything you need. Without a doubt, it's my five favourite minutes of cinema, and has remained so for well over a decade. I could rhapsodize at length over everything that makes it so perfect, from the neat little character sketches to the use of organic percussion such as foot stamping and the swishing of a broom. A beautiful, painful musical landscape painting, it takes the audience on an emotional journey through resignation to anger, determination and eventually hope fuelled by searing ambition, and it gives me the chills every single time I watch.

Best of all, it's powered by the exact same things that make the rest of the film such a joy - fantastic performances, and with a script and cinematography that celebrate its stage origins rather than trying to conceal them. Nothing here is very subtle, of course, but why would it be? It's a musical based on a B-movie, so of course the emotions are big and the thrills are cheap.

I'll conclude the case for the defence by drawing your attention to a few more of my favourite things about this, one of my favourite movies:

• So very many celebrity cameos
• The Greek chorus of teenage girls Crystal, Chiffon and Ronette
• The way Ellen Greene's voice shifts effortlessly from Audrey's breathless squeak to full-on powerhouse for her big numbers
• The amazing detail inside the mouths of the various Audrey II puppets 

Am I sounding like a bit of a fangirl here?

The bad

I've been over this in my head and tried to rationalise it again and again, but there's no way I can square the circle and make this right: while Levi Stubbs technically does a fine job voicing Audrey II the murderous plant, the role was clearly written in another, far less pleasant era. Audrey's voice is clearly that of the black mammy character from the early Tom and Jerry cartoons; at best, it's an embarrassing throwback, but frankly I lean more towards it being flat-out offensive and arguably the reason I haven't noticed this film on the TV schedules in years.

Elsewhere, the racial stuff is marginally better, but the black characters are still relegated to background and chorus roles. Did this reflect the social climate of the mid-60s? Possibly. More likely, however, it simply reflected the social climate of the mid-80s, and I like to think a modern remake would involve some more imaginative casting as well as a radical re-think of the character of Audrey II.

The verdict

I'm glad our society is more progressive now than it was when this one was first made; viewed through unbiased eyes, I suppose it's something of an embarrassment, really, to be swept under the carpet. The performances and the musical numbers mean I'd never want to disregard it entirely, though - given the recent spate of musical remakes, perhaps it's time for this one to shake off the past and become the guilt-free funfest it truly deserves to be.