“Prologue (Little Shop of Horrors)” might be the ultimate theatre hype song.
At least it feels that way in City Theatre’s hands. Live musicians hit the bouncy doo-wop chords that open Howard Ashman and Alan Menken’s Eighties musical extravaganza, lights center on the painted graffiti backdrops of Skid Row, and, on Saturday night, a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. It’s the true essence of live performance. An idyllic marriage of anticipation and delivery. For a moment, I felt connected to all the good rooted in theatre productions.
This might be a good time to note that Little Shop of Horrors ranks high in my personal musical pantheon. Easily top five. Catch me on a good day, and it might head the list. City Theatre would have to pull one hell of an airball to disappoint me. Thankfully, they don’t. Not even close – despite some slight audio balancing issues, mostly due to venue Genesis Creative Collective’s built-in acoustic capabilities. No, director Andy Berkovsky and company deliver a rousing performance to, last weekend at least, an utterly packed house. Musicals rake in the audiences, and again – with material as good as this, those masses should be appeased.
But back to the soulful beginning, those invigorating opening lines of “Prologue.” Horrors lives and dies by the strength of its girl group. After all, it’s up to them to pluckily narrate the unlucky plight of timid orphan botanist Seymour and his carnivorous plant. City Theatre’s trio of tasty pipes lead the story well, adding sass and serious soul to each expository song. Ronette (Zoe Karahouni Peterson), Crystal (Tatyana Smith), and Chiffon (Nicole Tavonia Boyd) deliver glorious harmonies. Each member has moments of glory, but Smith’s Crystal truly brings the house down with her enthusiastic performance, especially when she executes an incredible vocal slide into the sultry sounds of “Skid Row (Downtown).” It’s pure gospel, and I say amen to that.
City Theatre delivers a rousing performance of what might be my favorite musical.
Girl power abounds in this rendition. As Audrey, the beat-up floral assistant, Lauren Beach adopts the baby voice of Ellen Greene from Horrors’ 1986 film version, but can’t resist showing off the strength of her singing prowess from the first chorus of “Somewhere That’s Green” all the way up to her euphoric “Suddenly, Seymour.” Even Audrey II gets in on the feminine takeover. Voiced by Micaiah Armstrong, Audrey II veers away from the historically sultry male performance to Armstrong’s distinctly femme fatale take on the character. Armstrong has true vocal expertise, notable even through a heavily gained mic that occasionally overtook the balance and drowned out assisting harmonies on my viewing. Her soul-filled songs still thrilled, and fit perfectly in character thanks to the puppet stylings of Sebastian Garcia and Jackson Reed.
Those puppet masters move the plant with distinct humor and joy. Listen, I am not above marionette shenanigans. Audrey II’s frequent, delicate back-and-forth graspings for others to feed her more delicious blood rank as some of the funniest moments I’ve seen in live theatre. The band – composed of Jeffrey Jones-Ragona’s piano, Reuben Akins’ guitar, and Chris Lippke’s drums, all under the auspice of musical director Carrie Culver – enhance the hilarity, adding sound to hijinks in ways that just hit better when it’s all happening in the same room.
The less feminine aspects are still delightful, with enthusiastic performances from Jeff Phillips as Mr. Mushnik and a clearly delighted Kevin Anderson as Audrey’s evil boyfriend, along with several other roles. Recent Austin transplant Aaron Matijasic is particularly good as Seymour. Don’t hold his erstwhile Californian residency against him – Matijasic still accesses a winning humility and “aw, shucks” attitude as the dweeby Seymour. His dedication to character through thick and thin adds an endearing vulnerability to what is often played as a hapless, hilarious sucker. Instead, Seymour’s struggle with ambition versus morality pops off the stage. Matijasic elevates Seymour into more than a satirical punching bag. Instead, he’s a man loaded with pathos encountering only the highest stakes of decision-making.
While City Theatre delivers a fun night on the town, it also manages to sneak in thoughtfulness that frequently gets lost in the high-octane goofiness of this delightful B-movie musical. Instead of right and wrong, the battle between selfishness and sacrifice hits harder on this stage. So feed me, City Theatre – feed me that little shop of horrors.
City Theatre Presents Little Shop of Horrors
Genesis Creative Collective
Through September 14
This article appears in September 12 • 2025.
