REVIEW
Blue Bridge Repertory Theatre presents Little Shop of Horrors
Where: McPherson Theatre
When: Thursday night, runs until Aug. 12
Tickets: $54.75 for adults, $49.25 for student and seniors, available online at rmts.bc.ca, by phone at 250-386-6121 and at the box office
Rating: 4 1/2 (out of 5)
Beneath its campy, creepy veneer, Little Shop of Horrors is all about yearning.
Most of its characters - an orphaned pipsqueak of a young man, a down on his luck shopkeeper, a voracious man-eating plant, et al. - loathe their current lot and chafe for a better life.
Blue Bridge Repertory Theatre's production of Little Shop hits the theme home. But unlike the denizens of the 1982 musical's squalid Skid Row, the Victoria production take doesn't dream itself into ruin, nor does it settle for being aspirational.
It's downright ambitious, self-assured and riddled with winking surprises.
Kholby Wardell is masterful as Seymour Krelborn, the nebbish orphan whose carnivorous Venus flytrap brings him unexpected fame.
Instead of dwelling on the character's early selfpity, the University of Victoria grad infuses Seymour with cheerfulness and pluck.
What's more stunning is Wardell's ability to multitask on stage.
During the musical number Ya Never Know, he animates a hand puppet in one arm, pretends to wrestle said puppet with the other, contorts his face into a look of terror and, yes, nails his vocals - all at the same time.
Victoria-born Sara-Jeanne Hosie delivers an equally impressive, though less frenetic, performance as Audrey, Seymour's coworker and love interest.
Her swelling vocals and solid poise had the audience transfixed during Somewhere That's Green, a funny, heartfelt ballad in which she daydreams aloud about a future as a suburban housewife.
The Blue Bridge rendering succeeds also because of its imaginative attention to detail.
It's as though, to fashion the main set, the crew took a black-and-white still of a decrepit Victorian salon, blew it up and stretched it into three dimensions. At the beginning of first set, the monochromatic structure conveys the characters' bleak locale.
Later, it serves as a canvas for the bright, colourful lights that beam in as developments get more exciting and fetid.
One minor site of weakness was the interactions between the human characters and the bear-sized, person-operated version of Audrey II, Seymour's monstrous plant. There appeared to be a bit of lag between the puppeteer's movements and veteran singer Jeff Jones's vocals.
(On that front, the blues legend's wail was more syrupy than menacing, but his presence was a treat nonetheless.)
The awkward dance didn't detract much from the show's pacing, though. The cast, and Wardell in particular, seems to boast enough savoir faire, acting chops and general pizzazz to maintain a breezy enough clip.
At the very least, they possess the critical blunt instrument that can morph almost any overdone, outdated repertory musical into refreshing summer fare: the belief that it's destined for something more.
