Happy Halloween!  I’ve got a spooky banger of a movie for you, so grab your eclipse glasses and heed the prototype Hercules muses warning against proceeding into Seymour’s basement… this is Little Shop of Horrors!

This musical is based on the movie Little Shop of Horrors, filmed in 1960 by Roger Corman in less than a week using all the same sets as the previous movie that was shot on the lot.  It is regarded as one of the worst movies ever made, but the lure of a plant begging for food was too much for Howard Ashman to resist.  He had fond memories of watching the film on late night television when he was a child, even inspiring him to write a Little Shop knockoff when he was 16-years-old.  It took him and Alan Menkin 8 months to write the show, and it earned them their first nomination for Best Original Song.  Rightfully so, these numbers completely slap, and I even found myself humming along to the few doo-wop numbers.  The musical was later adapted into this movie, and while it is wayyyyy less dark than its source material, it is incredibly enjoyable.

It’s a week after an unexpected astronomical event and Audrey and Seymour are working at a fairly vacant flower shop that has been struggling due to its location on Skid Row.  Seymour is a bit of a bumbling (but well meaning) orphan that shop owner Cosmo Castorini Mr. Mushnik gave shelter and a job to several years ago.  Audrey is in an abusive relationship with some drip, which continually distresses Mr. Mushnik, and most importantly Seymour, who timidly carries a torch for Audrey.  It’s easy to fall in love with her – she’s sincere, earnest, and incredibly kind to everyone (even to those who don’t deserve it).  Seymour and Audrey both dream of lifting themselves out of poverty, and Seymour stumbles into a plan to do it… Audrey II.

On the day of the solar eclipse, Seymour purchased a strange and unusual plant for $1.95.  He convinces Mr. Mushnik to place the plant, which he’s named Audrey II (EEP!), in the window to attract customers, and it immediately brings my favorite mockumentairan Christopher Guest into the fold.  He buys $50$100 (TWICE AS MANY) worth of roses, which starts a chain reaction of orders being placed because of Audrey II’s lure.

After an exciting day of non-stop business, Audrey II starts to look a little down.  While Seymour laments he doesn’t know how to take care of Audrey II’s needs, he accidentally cuts himself, triggering Audrey II’s bloodlust.  Seymour begins to slice his hands to feed Audrey II, which is exactly as gross as it sounds and skeeved me out to no end.  The constant stream of blood causes the plant to grow larger and larger, making it harder to satiate its appetite.

Audrey II starts to gain a local following, earning a feature in the papers and a spot on a local radio show hosted by John Candy.  This completely changes the trajectory of Mr. Mushnik’s business for the better, and with Seymour’s new found success, he feels the pressure to keep Audrey II healthy, even at the detriment of his own health.  With all the new money coming in, Seymour provides Audrey a path to leave her sadist boyfriend, Steve Martin, but her fears of his retaliation keep her in the relationship.

Disheartened by Audrey’s refusal, Seymour returns to the flower shop and is surprised when Oogie Boogie prototype Audrey II starts talking to him.  See, Twoey is hungry enough to eat a person, and convinces Seymour him and human Audrey’s life would be a lot easier if The Dentist were no longer living.  Not wanting to lose a limb to keep the plant alive, and figuring The Dentist was as worthy of a victim as anyone else, Seymour visits The Dentist at his place of business with the intention of turning him into plant food.  He chickens out at the last minute, but lucky for Seymour, The Dentist’s Mad Max-like laughing gas mask asphyxiates him instead.  Now with her abuser gone, Audrey and Seymour confess their feelings for each other.  If Leslie Ann Warren and Ellen Greene have taught me anything its that I have a weakness for blondes that use that baby voice.  I’m basic af.

The quandary Seymour now finds himself in is how to cut Dickhead DDS into digestible parts for Audrey II.  Mr. Mushnik witnesses Seymour hacking up the body with an axe and proves he’s not a homie by threatening to rat out Seymour to the cops unless he abandons the financially lucrative Audrey II and runs away.  Audrey II solves this problem fairly quickly by slurping up Mushnik, bringing its body count up to two.

What I found kind of curious about this adaptation is Seymour’s lack of agency in these deaths.  He doesn’t save the dentist, but he doesn’t shoot him either.  In the stage show, Seymour deliberately lures Mr. Mushnik into Audrey II, whereas this film version he kind of backs him up into the plant, but tries to stop his consumption last minute.  It makes me wonder if perhaps someone thought the audience wouldn’t be chill with Seymour knowing he’d kill everyone around Audrey in order to stay close to her.  Rick Moranis’ dorky charm has its limits, apparently.

With Mr. Mushnik gone, Seymour’s star continues to rise, but he can’t take the guilt of continuing to feed Audrey II.  Seymour proposes marriage to Audrey and decides now is the perfect opportunity for the two of them to run away from Skid Row.  Audrey II has other plans, however.  The otherworldly plant sets a trap for Seymour by revealing to Audrey she can talk, luring her over to the flower shop and skirting the line of reenacting tentacle hentai wayyyyy too closely. 

Seymour rescues Audrey at the last minute, confesses to his secret of sort-off letting people die to feed the plant, and Audrey weirdly doesn’t seem to care about Seymour’s part the plant murders?   Instead, they decide to kill Audrey II to prevent it from multiplying, electrocute it, and run off to the suburbs to live happily ever after… the end?

The original ending to the film had Audrey II eat Seymour, multiply, and take over the world, which I think would have been flippin’ sweet!?  We’re talking horror here, right?  It’s in the title of the show.  This happy ending bullshit felt strange when I watched this movie the first time, and the off-tone feeling was justified when I found the alternate ending.  How cool would it have been to watch Audrey II Godzilla New York City and burst through the theater screen??  Like COME ON, there’s no contest!!  WHO APPROVED THIS CHANGE??  The only clue I could suss out was in an interview with Ellen Greene where she suggested that audiences didn’t want to see Audrey die, which, fair.  I loved Audrey, too.  But that doesn’t mean that Seymour can’t die, or that the whole world can’t be destroyed.  I mean, at that point Seymour kind of deserved to be consumed by his own creation.

The alternate ending was shot so perfectly and showcases Lyle Conway’s fabulous vision for Audrey II.  Frank Oz was the only director that could have made this picture – the puppet looked so flippin’ fantastic that it was hard for me to believe it was all practical effects.  There was a whole team of puppeteers that operated Audrey II, and every vine that moved, every tiny Audrey II that sang, every lip curl, and every goop-filled pore helped bring her to life.  It was incredibly interesting for me to see what other productions did to create the several Audrey IIs that are needed to show her progressive growth throughout the show.  And if this first act Audrey II doesn’t give you nightmares, I don’t know what will.

Sweet dreams, kiddos!  And remember, don’t feed your plants body parts, it (almost) always ends badly!

This story is a cautionary tale against playing a murder hobo in your RPG.

Let’s uh… Let’s talk about teenage Colleen for a moment here.  I know, I don’t want to do it either, but context is needed and so it shall be provided.

Picture it: Grand Rapids, 2002.  15-year-old me, who very much loved shopping at Hot Topic, watching anime, and listening to System of a Down, went on vacation with my family for winter break.  My father, who enjoys a wide variety of artistic expressions (except The Offspring’s “chainsaw music”) procures tickets at the Civic Theater for an unknown-to-him musical, Sweeney Todd.  None of my family, in fact, had any idea what it was about, so it was to my absolute delight when a demented barber started lopping off heads with a razor at the end of the first act.  It was the most bizarre musical I had ever witnessed, and my only critiques were this:

1. The squealing noise they play every time a character is killed was too loud. 
2. Sweeney sang about his razors too much.
3. The love story was dumb.

Other than that, once I returned home, I downloaded whatever was available on Kazaa.  Sondheim has never, ever, been my jam, except for this musical, which I would defend with my life.  There is an entire song about baking people into pies.  It is the most on-brand thing that could have ever existed for the teenage version of me.

So imagine my utter delight several years later when it was announced that Tim Burton would be adapting it to screen, with Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Alan Rickman as the leads.  My favorite director and my favorite people and my favorite musical… I honestly couldn’t have cast it better in my mind.  I had a promo poster hanging up in my dorm room for months.  And then, I went and saw it and just… had some feelings I didn’t expect.

I think this story lends itself to film very well, because it gives a lot of opportunities of showing, not telling.  The stage musical has a repeating chorus of cast members explaining to the audience the show they are about to see (put a pin in this, we’ll get back to it), but we don’t need that in film because it can very explicitly show Sweeney Todd slitting throats of randos that just wanted a shave.  The uncomfortably up-close opening credits following the pie making process was brilliant and perfectly set expectations regarding the amount of gore your eyeballs are about to be accosted with.  The sheer amount of blood they could use in this slasher film gleefully elevated it to campy as fuck.  It was one of the great additions that obviously can’t be replicated on stage.  Well, not without a splash zone, that is.

The horror aspect is the best part about this movie.  I giggled incessantly during the Johanna murder montage.  Every thud of a person rocketing down the body chute cracked me up.  Also, the suspense during the first shaving scene with the Judge had me cringing, and I already knew what was going to happen.

The fantasy montages also worked fairly well.  “By the Sea” is kind of a throwaway song in the stage musical, but it’s genuinely funny in the movie, where its vignettes overtly show how different Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett’s idea of an ideal future are.

These changes come with a set of maybe unintended consequences.  I understand why the chorus was removed, and I support it generally, but without the character introductions, the first time we see Sweeney is on a boat with Anthony brooding that there’s no place like London.  There’s no fanfare, no shrill sopranos shrieking his name, no grand reveal.  Basically, it takes one of the most powerful entrances of a titular character, one that always causes the audience to spontaneously applause, and reduces it to a quiet moment of Johnny Depp trying out the ridiculous accent he’s developed for this role.

But the most egregious misuse of showing-not-telling is “A Little Priest”, god help me…

“A Little Priest” as a song is such a fucking masterpiece.  If you look up “dark comedy” in the dictionary, it’s just a picture of Patti LuPone offering an imaginary meat pie filled with people meat to George Hearn.  

It is 8-minutes of cannibalism puns that was written specifically for Angela Lansbury.  Patti setting up George with “How can you tell?” is my entire life.  The joy I feel every time I listen to this song is just… Heavenly!  It doesn’t need a fancy set or props because it’s based on their imagination.  Bringing reality to this seems completely misguided.

But what does the movie do with this song?  BUTCHER IT :ba dum tss:

It shows every person they’re willing to murder to boost Mrs. Lovett’s meat pie business, but does that really add anything?  Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett spend the majority of the song casing the neighborhood out the window, which I think is meant to convey their predatory nature.  The side-effect of this, however, is they are barely interacting, removing the majority of the magic of these characters finally understanding each other for the first time.  Sure, they dance a little, but then Sweeney starts leading Mrs. Lovett around by her neck, exerting his dominance over her, when the whole fucking point of the song is Sweeney realizing Mrs. Lovett is his equal.  He literally places his cleaver at her neck when talking about murdering the judge, even though she’s just established as his partner in crime.  This is the campiest song in the entire show, and while the rest of this movie has wholeheartedly embraced the ridiculousness of the entire plot, “A Little Priest” somehow comes off as tedious and slightly abusive.  And neither of them look like they’re having that much fun with it.

This song just highlights the miscasting of Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter.  Their portrayal of these characters is understated in comparison to their stage counterparts, and part of this I understand because of the medium they’re working within.  What plays great to the back of the room in a stage production is going to look like overkill when the camera is a few feet from the actor’s face.  But Johnny Depp’s Sweeney looks bored and uninterested instead of brooding, and Helena’s Mrs. Lovett is so fragile that a strong wind would bring her down.  I really, really love Helena Bonham Carter in other roles, but she cannot sing.  Something as vocally demanding as the role of Mrs. Lovett is hard for a professional, as she has to persistently exert power so the audience believes she can hold her own against a literal serial killer.  Every time Helena sings, it feels so thin – she doesn’t hold out a single note, and nothing is at a volume louder than a whisper.  Her timid nature reads as victimization of her circumstances instead of a willing participant in this scheme.  

During the promo of this movie, it was mentioned several times that Johnny Depp was in a band, so having him finally get the opportunity to use his voice in a role was going to pay off.  It, um… didn’t.  I feel like the dumb accent he affected got in the way of him properly singing.   Tim Burton’s inability to not cast Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter in every single film he makes really did a disservice to this movie.  Like, there are more than a few actors and actresses that can sing this role.

The rest of the cast are excellent, which makes this so disappointing.  Typically Anthony and Johanna are played by people in their 30s, but they cast age appropriate actors in these roles who can sing, and who both captivated my attention.  The amount I care about the romance between Anthony and Johanna in the stage show is 0%.  In general, the whole situation is fairly unsettling, considering their “love song” is Johanna talking about killing herself to prevent daddy-fiancé from marrying her while Anthony pleads with her to kiss him.  The film does away with this, making Anthony’s obsession with Johanna appropriately creepy, and her willingness to go along with him as only a means to an end to get away from her captor.  I appreciated this interpretation, and felt it added depth to both their characters.

Jayne Wisener makes this very difficult song sound effortless and beautiful.  The later scenes where she alludes to her ongoing trauma from the entire experience was perfect to include.  It illustrates the consequences of being used as a human prize by people who give no consideration to her thoughts and feelings.

Jamie Campbell Bower gives me goosebumps when he sings “Johanna”.  His face has disturbing determination written all over it, and it makes me feel like maybe Johanna may not be in better hands with him instead of the judge or her murdering, but devoted father.  She really has no good options – it’s heartbreaking.

Sasha Baron Cohen and Ed Sanders also do a great job portraying Pirelli and Toby respectively.  Sweeney Todd came out shortly after Borat, and to tell you I didn’t expect this from him is an understatement.  

And Alan Rickman was perfect, as fucking always.  God, I love and miss Colonel Brandon.

I wanted to love this movie when it came out, and also upon rewatch, but I just don’t.  Maybe if it were my only exposure to the source material it would have held the same place in my heart as the stage show, but because I’ve seen Patti LuPone knock this out of the park, I’m always going to wonder what could have been.

Cast more broadway actors in movies, is all I’m saying.  It worked for Julie Andrews films, it can work again.

Happy Halloween!  Prepare yourselves for a late night double feature picture show.  I’ll first whet your appetite with The Rocky Horror Picture Show, before I fully satiate your hunger with Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

Rocky Horror has a good amount of cult-like fans, so I’m going to tread really lightly on this one.  I don’t want to yuck someone’s yum, and there’s a lot of yum in here to start.

I love a good introduction song setting up the stakes of the movie.  I am not an American horror movie fan, or really a sci-fi fan in general (Two notable exceptions: Stargate and the John Dies at the End book series), so listening to this song was like when I taught myself all the words to Madonna’s “Vogue” when I was 8.  I don’t get the references, but it bumps anyway.

We’re then introduced to Brad and Janet, a couple of hunky closeted sexual deviants.  They are doing their best heterosexual cosplay by getting engaged after a touch-free courtship.  They decide to take all their pent up excitement and… head to their professor’s house to celebrate, because he introduced them.  Way to be, guys.

The background singers will never fail to make me crack up, as it is the perfect external representation of how I feel about anybody who revels in getting married.

On their drive in the woods during a thunderstorm, Brad and Janet get a flat tire and have to hoof it to a hunting lodge for rich weirdos in the middle of nowhere to use a phone to call for help.  They stumble upon this castle on a very auspicious night, as a ceremony is about to take place.  They are invited inside, but don’t feel entirely comfortable with the pure sexual energy radiating off of everybody.

Honestly, Magenta and this Igor looking weirdo can get it.  I would probably fuck the majority of the people in this movie.  I don’t know how much of that is quarantine talking, though.

They’re led to the ballroom where several guests are engaging in a strange dancing number that needs to be explained by some old dude in a library.

I don’t know what the time warp is.  I don’t know how this remotely fits into the plot of the movie.  But it’s so catchy, and without fail, anytime it is played at a wedding or a party, it’ll get the whole 5 Rocky Horror fans that actually know the dance on the dance floor, so I’m not going to argue with it.

After the attendees complete the horny hand jive, the host with the most, Dr. Frank-N-Furter, makes his grand entrance.

Tim Curry is unbelievably extra in this.  It almost makes me sad that our first exposure of him on this list was a backhanded, drugged up pirate instead of a slightly rape-y mad scientist.  How he struts down the red carpet and pronounces visual gets my motor running.

The Doctor tells Brad and Janet he’ll get someone to help fix their car, as long as they stick around for his freaky experiment.  Magenta and Columbia, his beautiful face mask wearing queens, assist him in creating himself a living, breathing sex doll, Rocky.

This is quickly followed by a weird detour where Dr. Frank-N-Furter has to murder Columbia’s boyfriend Meatloaf because he is a petty queen who needs all the attention on him at all times.

Even though Rocky was running around trying to evade the Doctor’s advances, he is escorted to a “somber bridal suite” to spend the night with him, which says everything that I want to say about the general consent issues in this movie.

Brad and Janet watch all of these events unfold and still stick around to be coerced into fucking the doctor afterward, getting his sloppy seconds and sloppy thirds.  Janet likes sex with not-Brad so much, she also decides to fuck the monster boyfriend.

This pisses Dr. Frank-N-Furter off, because while he wants to have sex with everyone, nobody else can have sex with each other.  This tension culminates in a fucking awkward dinner party where the Doctor puts on a tacky ice skating costume and reveals the corpse of Meatloaf to his father mid-bite.

Then the end of the movie happens and like, honestly, I fell asleep during it 4 different times.  I think Tim Curry is revealed to be an alien, gets murdered, and the castle does an actual time warp somewhere else to presumably deflower a couple more innocent teens.  Also, stocks in fishnet nylons and garters go through the roof, so get in on that early.

The majority of the songs in this movie are iconic and amazing.  However, the movie itself really failed to capture my attention.  This would have worked better as a 45-minute scandalous music video instead of a full-blown feature film.

Prepare yourself for some jaunty cannibalism, because Sweeney Todd is next!