Little Shop of Horrors (1986): The American Dream Has Teeth

Beth and Michelle go downtown, where the guys are drips, the rent is overdue, and nearly everyone dreams of escaping Skid Row. This week, they revisit Little Shop of Horrors, the 1986 musical comedy where a strange new plant offers Seymour Krelborn everything he has ever wanted, recognition, financial security, and perhaps even a future with Audrey - provided he keeps feeding it. Beneath the puppetry, doo-wop harmonies, and gloriously theatrical performances is a story about longing. Seymour wants love and stability after a childhood spent as an orphan and an adulthood spent living in the basement of his employer’s flower shop. Audrey dreams of a quiet suburban home somewhere green, but does not believe she deserves safety or tenderness. Both accept mistreatment as a substitute for love because it is the only emotional economy they have ever known. Audrey II promises them a way out, but the opportunity is toxic from the beginning. Seymour’s success depends on blood, secrecy, and increasingly serious moral compromises. The plant becomes the hungriest possible version of the American dream: it offers wealth and freedom while quietly removing every meaningful choice. Even the idyllic ending suggests that Seymour and Audrey may have escaped Skid Row only to enter a cleaner, prettier cage. Beth and Michelle also discuss Audrey’s abuse by Orin, Seymour’s exploitation by Mr. Mushnik, the film’s casual racism, the way its Black Greek chorus carries the narrative without being fully permitted inside it, and the extraordinary practical effects that make Audrey II feel less like a puppet than a dangerously charismatic performer. In the episode’s proto–Stitch Count, Little Shop of Horrors narrowly passes the Castellini Test through Audrey and the Greek chorus of Crystal, Ronette, and Chiffon, with Audrey essential to Seymour’s choices and the entire story. The film features a visibly diverse supporting cast, but its principal characters remain overwhelmingly white, and its racial representation is complicated by stereotyping and by characters of color carrying much of the film’s emotional and musical labor. LGBTQ and disability representation are minimal. The Tremors Index produces a rare split decision: Michelle gives the movie 9 Audrey II pods out of 10, carried by her love of its songs, performances, and memories, while Beth lands closer to 6 out of 10, unable to overlook the accumulated injustices beneath the fun. It is funny, sinister, romantic, abusive, catchy, and coated in the soot of Skid Row. The music may invite you to sing along, but the plant is always waiting for supper.