Before I start this review, allow me to plunge into a useless anecdote that’s only vaguely related to the film for the pretext of hiding the fact that I have nothing to write in this intro. My first ever plant was a bonsai tree, I named her Bethany. I set her on my window sill where she was blasted by sunlight all day and didn’t get much space to breath in a room that was constantly under a cloud of pot smoke. Within a week her leaves began to fall and by the end of the month what remained of her was a twiggy skeleton of resentful disappointment.
When me and my marvellous girlfriend got together, we each bought a plant, the exact same plant, they’re twins, we named them Bobby and Esmerelda. Miraculously they’re still alive. There was a brief period where Bobby was holding onto dear life with one singular leaf left. After weeks in the ICU, another leaf has sprung forth from his soil. At this point Bob is like a patient in a deep coma who has finally shown some signs of life. Esmerelda is starting to look rather grim because naturally she misses her brother. Like the bad father I am, I had given up on Bobby completely at one point and was ready to pull the plug, but my better half advised me against it. Seems even pessimists can show shining hope. Thank your mother when you wake up from your coma Bobby.
For those reader who I haven’t scared away from that ridiculous parable, greetings, you must have patience made out of Kevlar. I was supposed to watch The Little Shop of Horrors (1960) for class this week, completely unaware that a version exists other than Frank Oz’s Little Shop of Horrors (1986). With my respect for Roger Corman, I sat down and watched the one that grew from the soil first. All I’ll say is that I’m glad the runtime was as short as it was. Hold on, no need to start on such a negative note, what I mean to say is that it has its ups and downs, like everything else in this cruel game of laser-tag with real laser weapons that people go around calling life. I’m sorry I haven’t had my breakfast yet so I will try and stave the existentialism from spilling over this. Short Jesus this thing is all over the place, is this how all of my writings read?
A sip of tea later and I seem to be back on track. One can very obviously tell that this film was on the bottom of the bill before it eventually sprouted itself to the A feature. Cinematically this film is all that plain filmmaking of the Classical era can offer, nothing to impressive, with the camera trying its damndest to make the best out of the great constraints that stand before it. Scenes transition with rough cuts and the occasional dissolve, the same sort of filmmaking I’ve seen countless times before from the dream factory. That’s precisely what it is however, a B movie, the inferior bastard brother to the kind of films the big feature companies were stapling right at the very top of the marquee in large unmistakable letters. What sets this film apart from that however is its story, the wacky acting and the dialogue. A plant with a hankering for human flesh that grows to fantastic proportions and demands more food, a lady who’s relatives keep dying and Jack Nicholson playing a masochistic dental patient are the product of mind that can spin mundane ideas to strange and absurd lengths, it’s something audiences wouldn’t find at the time in bigger budget films because they have bigger fish to fry, forgetting that sometimes the little things are more palatable.
Acting and dialogue land a one-two punch which keeps the films and its events interesting, witty little quips from a man who’s at his wits end with his shop, dangerously enthusiastic frolicking from Aubrey the shop assistant and the hapless, clumsy Seymour who grows the plant in the first place who accidently keeps killing people and must shove them down the plant’s pods, make a wonderful trio that bounce off each other and make this derelict little flower shop a scene to indulge in.
Where my last problem lies is in the ending, the film comes to a screeching halt with a chase sequence that crashes into a wall and ends the film. It just felt abrupt and very surprising because at that point I was starting to feel my eyes weighing down with sleep.
Though Frank Oz’s remake is much better than this, the tone is much different and cinematically more fun, I still feel that some credit is due to this film for coming up with the idea in the first place and executing within the bounds of what was possible for the team. Now it’s watering time and my plant is thirsty, good thing it doesn’t have fangs to rip my fingers off with if I somehow forget to feed it.
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