The greatest works of art normally come from the most unexpected of sources, as evident by the fact that a small-scale horror comedy produced on a shoestring budget by Roger Corman and a few of his friends has become the foundation for perhaps the most offbeat and brilliant musical in the history of the medium. Little Shop of Horrors, which started its life as a cult dark comedy that had a small but solid group of devotees, but eventually flourished into a major critical and commercial success once Alan Menken and Howard Ashman (two of the greatest creative minds to ever work in the medium) decided to use it as the foundation for a musical of the same title. Inevitably, Hollywood came knocking almost immediately and sought out the chance to adapt this musical into a film on its own, enlisting Frank Oz to helm this reimagining, a choice that proved to be incredibly valuable for a number of reasons. The simple premise follows Seymour Krelborn, a mild-mannered florist’s assistant, as he discovers a mysterious new plant, which becomes an immediate sensation, drawing crowds to their small store in an impoverished part of a major city. However, Seymour begins to realize there is a more sinister side to his discovery, which he is desperate to keep hidden, particularly from Audrey, a fellow clerk with whom he has fallen deeply in love but has yet to see these feelings reciprocated. What ensues is 90 minutes of sheer madness, handcrafted by a director who takes Corman’s ingenious concept and crafts it into a brilliantly daring musical comedy that is somehow both moving and outrageously funny, the perfect combination of ideas that honour the source material while still being a truly bespoke work all on its own, encapsulating everything valuable about the artform while also gently poking fun at its most common tropes. Absolutely captivating and perfectly crafted from its first iconic note to its hauntingly hilarious conclusion, Little Shop of Horrors is a true delight in both form and intention and has truly withstood the test of time better than the majority of similarly-themed films.

Understanding what makes this material so compelling involves looking at all three versions – Corman’s original film, Ashman and Menken’s stage production and Oz’s adaptation, the latter weaving the former two together seamlessly and with such incredible artistic vigour. They’re all similar in how they tell the same story, but each one is crafted by an artist who has a different style, which renders different results, meaning that one isn’t leaning on the other too much outside of the fundamental material, or the songs in the case of the musical versions. The element that makes Little Shop of Horrors truly magnificent is the way it blends comedy, horror and music into an incredible spectacle. Handing the material over to Oz was an exceptional decision that yielded impeccable results. He may have only made two prior films (The Dark Crystal and The Muppets Take Manhattan, both of which were made in conjunction with his longtime friend and collaborator Jim Henson), but he seemed like a logical choice to tackle this musical – he had a penchant for the absurd and a love for the deranged, but all filtered through a lens of almost childlike wonder, never once coming across as if he believes himself to be smarter or more audacious than the audience. A film with this many layers needed an artist whose directorial process involved working across all these different levels, creating a deft highwire act that could not have been anything less than wholeheartedly challenging to create, but also clearly very stimulating to all involved. It is extremely obvious when those involved in the production of a film are entirely invested in both the concept and the execution, and it is abundantly clear that Oz and his team are consistently having fun bringing this deranged story to life, each scene being a clear reflection of the ambition and collective commitment to creating something that is both faithful to the source material, and entirely audacious as a film all on its own. Its charm is immediate and its exceptional understanding of how to balance different tonal shifts is magnificent and allows it to establish its own voice without becoming too intensely focused on how it will be perceived.

In the four decades since its first Off-Broadway production was mounted, we’ve seen countless talented individuals weave in and out of the central roles in Little Shop of Horrors, which isn’t only an exceptionally captivating musical comedy, but one that contains extremely original roles that any actor endeavours to tackle, offering their own interpretation of these eccentric characters. The film adaptation contains a perfect blend of newcomers and actors familiar with the material, which gives it a sense of both authenticity and distinct ambition in how it was willing to take a few risks in the casting process. The film is anchored by Rick Moranis in what is probably his greatest performance (which is a major assertion, considering he’s one of the most talented comedic voices of his generation), playing the central role of Seymour, a part that many seemed to assume was out of his wheelhouse until he proved that he is not only a gifted actor and comedian but also a profoundly talented singer, capturing the neurotic but heroic valour of the character and establishing the tone of the overall film. He’s joined by Ellen Greene in the definitive interpretation of Audrey, reprising her role from the original Broadway production. Unlike Moranis and the rest of the cast, Greene was not a well-known film actor, but she immediately overcomes relative obscurity by delivering what is perhaps the greatest performance in a musical ever committed to film. This may seem hyperbolic until we witness the sheer spectacle that is her portrayal of this character, who would have been viewed as one-dimensional in the hands of just about any other actor, but who Greene turns into a complex individual who contains many layers. Her performance of “Suddenly Seymour” is the very definition of a showstopping number, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone else being able to do this part with as much dedication, despite the wealth of genuinely gifted artists that have taken the part. The rest of the cast is rounded out by excellent actors, including Steve Martin (in a hilarious but sadly quite small role as the sadistic dentist who is the unintentional catalyst for the film’s climax), Bill Murray, John Candy and several others, as well as the scene-stealing Vincent Gardenia, who makes the most of every moment on screen, being just another addition to this fantastic cast.

Few filmmakers have warranted the title of genius more sincerely than Oz, who has proven to be something of a revolutionary as far as artistic expression goes, being behind some of the most original and inventive works of their respective eras, and somehow avoiding becoming too ingrained in the Hollywood system, consistently marching to the beat of his own drum. Little Shop of Horrors is perhaps the best exemplification of these ideas in practice – there wasn’t any need to convince the viewer of the brilliance of the concept, since the material speaks for itself (and it has continued to be an evergreen success on stage, with many regional and Off-Broadway productions indicating its resonance with a wide audience), and Oz has always been consistent in following his instincts as an artist, even when they manifest in slightly unorthodox ways. The process of adapting this musical required a lot of work, a challenge to which the director was more than prepared – as a constant mainstay in the Jim Henson Company, he had access to resources that could bring this film to life, including constructing a setting that is both entirely unique and immediately recognizable. The sheer scope this film manages to achieve through the simplest of means is incredible. This isn’t even mentioning the core concept, which is the creation of Audrey II, which has always been the deciding factor on whether or not a production will be successful. Constructed using practical effects and puppetry, the antagonist has come to be an immediately iconic symbol of not only this film, but of a specific era of musical comedy in general, one that every subsequent production has been chasing in some way. Little Shop of Horrors doesn’t only succeed because of how it takes on the material on a narrative level, but also the earnestness of how it explores these themes – it realizes the absurdity of its premise but never intends to conceal it. In fact, it openly embraces its silliness in a way that is daring and profoundly captivating, managing to be self-aware without resorting to mockery or looking down on the audience. It’s a very careful, delicate balance with which Oz is working, but the results are clearly undeniably effective.

Achieving perfection is an absurd and unrealistic expectation that somehow every artist puts upon themselves, very rarely actually managing to achieve it. Yet, as far as musical theatre adaptations go, it is difficult to find one better than Little Shop of Horrors, in which Oz truly crafts his signature work and makes a film that has stood the test of time in incredible, poetic ways, which is not always to be expected from a film with such an off-the-wall premise. To take a story about a bloodthirsty extraterrestrial gradually eliminating the human race and turning it into a compassionate, heartfelt story of defying the odds and embracing the beauty of the human condition is not an easy task, but one that is right at the heart of this film, which is a credit to both those who envisioned the material originally, and Oz for putting in the work to create a masterful adaptation that is as enthralling as it is poignant, which is not at all expected but very much welcome. We may never see a better musical adaptation than Little Shop of Horrors, regardless of how bold and ambitious other filmmakers have attempted to be when venturing into this genre. The effort that went into this film cannot be understated – it feels like a genuine labour of love from all involved, a handcrafted masterpiece that contains ideas and images that can never be replicated. As much as it may be well-liked and maintains an ever-growing cult following, the film is still quite underrated as far as its reputation as a perfect movie musical goes, but hopefully as we see less ambition going into the genre (a result of the fact that audiences seem adverse to musicals in recent years), that this enthralling masterpiece of a film continues to grow in reputation, earning a place within the canon that has covertly been helping to shape over the past forty years since we first came into contact with these characters, and Oz’s extraordinary vision.