Little Shop of Horrors

“After watching this movie I never looked at my plants the same.”

“This was one of my favorite movies growing up! I still hate going to the dentist because of this. Of course the ending was changed in the version I watched as a child so I did some research and turns out they did a screening of the movie to an audience in the 1980's before releasing the movie of the original ending and they hated the original ending so they changed it. Actually, I prefer the changed ending not the original one. But still it is a fun movie, they don't make them like this anymore!”

“There’s a certain pleasure in watching a movie completely lose its mind and somehow keep singing through it, which is precisely the appeal of Little Shop of Horrors. Its premise is wonderfully deranged: a meek florist discovers a carnivorous plant that grows increasingly demanding, and naturally decides this is a problem he can manage. The result is a campy, colorful musical that is inventive enough to entertain even when its energy begins to wilt. The movie’s biggest strength is its sheer visual personality. The sets evolve alongside Audrey II, gradually turning the little flower shop into a grotesque botanical playground. The practical effects, animatronics, and elaborate puppetry are genuinely impressive, giving the plant a physical presence that modern CGI might have made less charming. Audrey II looks terrific for most of the movie, with a wonderfully expressive personality despite being, technically speaking, a giant talking plant. Unfortunately, the musical itself is more uneven. Some songs are undeniably catchy, particularly “Little Shop of Horrors,” “Suddenly Seymour,” and “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space.” But between those highlights are stretches that feel oddly sluggish, and the movie sometimes seems more interested in extending a musical number than advancing the story. The dentist-office sequence is the clearest offender: the joke is established, understood, and then apparently given several additional minutes to make absolutely certain nobody missed it. The humor has a similarly inconsistent batting average. Some of the jokes land beautifully, while others feel trapped in the sensibilities of their era. The outdated politically incorrect stereotypes, including the Chinese caricature, are particularly hard to overlook today and occasionally pull the movie out of its otherwise gleefully absurd world. Then there is Seymour, whose inability to figure out how to feed Audrey II becomes increasingly hilarious when you consider the obvious solution. At some point, he really should have stopped shopping for blood and looked for Brawndo. It has electrolytes. It has what plants crave. If Idiocracy taught us anything, it’s that this is apparently the scientifically responsible choice. The ending is where the production’s elaborate machinery starts to show its seams. Having two substantially different endings depending on the version makes the experience feel somewhat awkward. The darker director’s cut and the happier theatrical ending reflect two different ideas of what the movie should ultimately be. There’s enough imagination here to make Little Shop of Horrors an enjoyable oddball, even if it never quite becomes the great musical its premise promises. The camp, practical effects, memorable plant, occasional killer joke, and catchy songs give it plenty of personality; the uneven pacing, dated comedy, and inconsistent musical momentum keep it from fully taking root. And, yes, Audrey’s boobs certainly aren’t hurting the presentation.”