Conor O' Cuinn | Bouquets & Brickbats

25/01/24

Church Hill Theatre, Edinburgh

True confession time. Little Shop of Horrors is my favourite musical.

Sure, there are more serious shows out there, more portentous pieces, but there’s something about this silly, B-movie-inspired spoof that I find utterly irresistible. Based on a seldom seen 1960 Roger Corman produced film and adapted by Charles Griffith, with music by Alan Menken and lyrics by Howard Ashman, Little Shop of Horrors is a whole ton of fun, blessed with some of the most downright infectious songs ever written. Watch it through and you’re sure to emerge from the theatre singing one of them.

So when I hear that EUSOG have chosen it as their new production, I don’t need an awful lot of persuading. (That’s Edinburgh University Savoy Opera Group. Thanks for asking.) We’ve seen quite a few of their productions over the years and know that their standards are very high.

Lights down and pretty soon the trio of sirens, Crystal (Gemima Iseko-Behano), Ronnette (Marie Kende) and Chiffon (Duha Bilal) are soulfully introducing us to the story’s setting on Skid Row, where the titular florist’s shop can be found. It’s owned by Mr Mushnik (Hunter King) who keeps his two employees on a very tight rein. They are Seymour (Conor O’Cuinn), a hapless orphan with a flair for botanical experimentation, and Audrey (Allison Lavercombe), a tragic young woman currently suffering through an abusive relationship with sadistic dentist Orin Scrivello (Nash Nørgaard).

But Seymour has discovered an interesting new plant, (which he has named Audrey II). It turns out that said plant has a powerful hunger for very unusual (and problematic) food…

From the opening song, raunchily blasted out by a ten piece band, you know you’re in for an exhilarating ride. The production sticks fairly close to the original but there are a couple of timely tweaks. The character of Audrey is played less for laughs than in earlier versions – and let’s be honest, the subject of domestic abuse isn’t exactly ripe for giggles. As portrayed by Lavercombe, she’s a fragile and helpless victim, desperately seeking escape, so much so that her signature song, Somewhere That’s Green hits me more powerfully than ever before, taking me dangerously close to tears.

And then there’s Audrey II (Thaddeus Buttrey), who in this production has the ability to step out from his green lair and wreak havoc. Buttrey’s powerful voice nails the role with absolute authority. Nørgaard delivers a slickly arrogant Scrivello and let’s not forget O’ Cuinn, who plays the central role of Seymour to absolute perfection. He and Lavercombe’s rendition of Suddenly Seymour is every bit as spellbinding as it should be.

But of course, this is an ensemble piece, with every member of the seventeen-strong cast giving it their all. I love the way they work together to represent the evil plant’s developing power, a flailing forest of green clad arms, reaching out towards the audience. Plaudits must go to co-directors Tom Beazley and Amy Stinton and to musical directors, Emily Paterson and Falk Meier.

I leave singing (apologies for that!) There’s only two more chances to catch this joyful production, so grab a ticket if you can and get yourselves up to the Church hill Theatre in Morningside where the Mean Green Mother from Outer Space is just dying to meet you.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

29/04/22

Teviot Underground, Edinburgh

There are good playwrights and there are great ones. Arthur Miller definitely belongs in the latter category. It’s a brave student theatre group that dares to tackle one of his works but, down in the crowded basement of the Teviot Underground, EUTC take on his 1947 play All My Sons and, with great skill and determination, make it their own.

This is the story of the Keller family and it takes place entirely in the garden of their home. It’s the night after a storm has uprooted a beloved tree, planted three years earlier in memory of the family’s youngest son, Larry, a fighter pilot who went missing in the war. Patriarch and factory owner, Joe (Ted Ackery), has survived accusations of shipping defective airplane parts to the military during the conflict and has subsequently prospered, even though his partner, Steve, still languishes in jail, found guilty of the charge.

Joe’s devoted son, Chris (Conor O’ Cuinn), is in line to take over the family business, but it’s not going to be plain sailing. He is hopelessly in love with Ann Deever (Olivia Carpenter), Larry’s former fiancée and she, in turn, has feelings for him. But Chris’s mother, Kate (Lucy Melrose), steadfastly refuses to give up hope that her lost son will one day return – and accepting this new union would, for her, be the final nail in her missing son’s coffin.

As ever with student theatre, the staging here is clearly constrained by budget, but the set designers have applied themselves to the task with great ingenuity; and using the canteen area at the back of the stage to depict the interior of the family home is a terrific idea. Interestingly, the costuming evokes the late 1960s and snatches of Bob Dylan and The Doors on the soundtrack accentuate the idea that this is a tragedy that could just as easily be applied to the Vietnam War – or any other one, come to that. The spectre of profiteering from war is, I’m afraid, universal.

But what really comes across in this production are the performances, with the four leads in particular submitting thrilling interpretations of their roles. And it doesn’t end there. The supporting roles of the family’s neighbours – who all know that Joe is guilty but have conspired to overlook the fact – are also delivered with utter conviction. There’s no weak link here – and there’s a palpable moment in the middle of the first act, when you sense these young performers coming to the realisation that they have their characters nailed and are going to make them fly.

Into this volatile atmosphere comes George (Priya Basra), Ann’s older brother, now a successful lawyer, who has previously accepted Joe’s acquittal and refused to see his own father ever since the trial – until now, that is. Now he has talked to his father and the wool has finally been pulled from his eyes. He visits the Kellers intent on seeking revenge.

The slowly rising tension builds steadily to a climax of extraordinary power. It’s a hard-hearted soul indeed who won’t be moved to tears by its shattering conclusion. EUTC have achieved something here that they can be truly proud of and, if you have the chance to catch this performance, then I’d advise you to take it.

It’s an assured interpretation of one of Arthur Miller’s greatest works.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney