Welcome back, goblins and ghouls, to the fourth annual installment of SpookyJawn! Each October, our love of horror fully rises from its slumber and takes over the MovieJawn website for all things spooky! This year, we are looking at ghosts, goblins, ghouls, goths, and grotesqueries, week by week they will march over the falling leaves to leave you with chills, frights, and spooky delights! Read all of the articles here!

by Fiona Underhill, Staff Writer

The horror comedy musical is certainly a niche movie genre, but there are more out there than you might think–and they pretty much all tend to be fantastic. Before Little Shop of Horrors (1986), we’d had Phantom of the Paradise (1974) and of course, perhaps the zenith of the genre–The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975). Following on from Little Shop, we’ve been fortunate enough to experience The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), Sweeney Todd (2007), Into the Woods (2014), The Lure (2015), Anna & the Apocalypse (2017) and Studio 666 (2022). Even 2006’s Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny has Satan as a main character.

Frank Oz’s Little Shop of Horrors was an adaptation of the off-Broadway musical, with the luminous Ellen Greene reprising her role of Audrey from the stage. But long before that, it was an obscure, black-and-white, ultra low-budget Roger Corman B-movie, released in 1960, but mostly discovered in subsequent years on television. The 1960 version isn’t a musical, but the plot and characters are pretty much all there, including the crucial villain role of Audrey II – the monstrous, man-eating plant. Its main claim to fame now is that it features an early appearance by Jack Nicholson, as the masochistic dental patient (played by Bill Murray in the 1986 film).

The 1960 version has some fantastically named characters, including Hortense Feuchtwanger and Phoebus Farb. Dick Miller plays one of the comedic highlights – a sardonic customer of Mushnik’s flower shop, who enjoys eating carnations. There are also two detectives who get to have maybe the funniest exchange in the movie; “How are the kids?” “Lost one yesterday – playing with matches.” “Aw, them’s the breaks.” Unfortunately, none of these characters would survive into the theatrical and cinematic musical versions, but it’s testament to how much fun the songs injected that we don’t miss them.

Alan Menken and Howard Ashman must be credited with the genius it took to take this low-budget B-movie and to interweave some of the best and most inventive musical numbers ever created around the story of the nerdy Seymour and his blood-sucking plant. Like all the best musicals, Little Shop opens on a high, with “Skid Row (Downtown)” beginning with the glamorous trio of Ronette, Crystal and Chiffon, and ending with Seymour’s lovely, desperate refrain of; “someone tell me a way to get outta here.” Rick Moranis has received a lot of kudos over the decades for being such a gifted comedic performer, but his singing also really deserves praise, as he achieves something the best musical actors do – which is fully communicating the emotions of the songs and making us root (pun intended) for his character throughout.

The Skid Row set (using the sound stages at Pinewood Studios) is theatrically constructed, and the bright 1960s Motown costuming of Ronette, Crystal, Chiffon, and of course, Audrey, contrasts brilliantly against the gray sludge of depravity. The 1986 movie is also absolutely jam-packed with cameos, including Danny John-Jules as a chorus member (known for the long-running British space-set sitcom Red Dwarf), Christoper Guest, John Candy, Miriam Margolyes, Jim Belushi, and the aforementioned Bill Murray. Steve Martin’s supporting role as Orin, the sadistic dentist, is fleshed out from his counterpart in the 1960 film. It’s bold to include a domestic violence subplot in a big-budget musical, but it somehow works so well. His song is one of the highlights, especially the shot from inside the mouth of one of his patients as he pokes and prods with his instruments of torture.

Little Shop is also known for the wonderful numbers “Somewhere That’s Green,” which sees Audrey fantasizing about living in suburban domestic bliss with Seymour, complete with cartoon bird landing on her finger, and “Suddenly Seymour” – another romantic number for the unlikely couple. The transition from “Suddenly Seymour” into “Suppertime” and then “The Meek Shall Inherit” in the movie adaptation is especially strong, showcasing the puppetry of Audrey II getting more impressive as he gets bigger and bigger. By this stage of the movie, he is using his tendrils as arms and hands – managing to politely open a door for Seymour and drumming his fingers on the fridge while speaking to his namesake, Audrey, on the phone. Levi Stubbs as the voice of Audrey II also deserves a lot of credit in creating such a great villain.

The ending of the 1986 movie was famously changed after poor testing to a happier one, with Seymour and Audrey achieving their suburban dream, and Audrey II vanquished (or is he?). Interestingly, with the 1960 version definitely being set in LA, the original ending to the 80s musical would have seen Audrey atop the Statue of Liberty, a sign of his world domination. The movie confirms that Audrey II is a “mean green mother from outer space” – with his alien origins not being explicit in either the 1960 film or the off-Broadway musical.

Frank Oz’s Little Shop of Horrors is one of the best movies of the 1980s and one of the best movie musicals of all time. Audrey II is an absolutely sublime horror villain, and to make the comedy, horror and musical elements work so well is a stunning achievement by Ashman, Menken, and Oz. Roger Corman and Charles B. Griffith also definitely deserve all of the plaudits for having the twisted minds to come up with the original story, surrounding characters who have now been beloved for decades. And if you ever get the chance to see Little Shop on stage, I highly recommend seeing how Audrey II works in different productions – it’s always a delight.