The last production I saw at Rocklin Community Theatre involved teenage actors — excellent teenage actors. The cast in Little Shop of Horrors are all adults, and they bring professional-quality singing and acting to this story of a man-eating plant from outer space. It’s been called a “horror rock musical,” though the “horror” isn’t really scary. RCT’s production was played like a farce, with brilliant comic acting (and over-acting) that kept me and the people around me laughing for the better part of 2 hours.

The Directors’ Note in the program put us in the audience on notice: “We wanted to make it a production to remember…. We dared our cast and production team to dream…. Like the show itself, nothing you see tonight is bound to tradition…. Every one of us is passionate about this production.” The passion was apparent in everything I saw, a show abundant in creativity, and that creativity started well before the house lights went down. Ten minutes before the start, while audience members were finding their seats, reading their programs or sitting and chatting, an actor in shabby dress and carrying a wine bottle staggered to the stage, fell face down and remained motionless. I think I was the only one who noticed — at least for several minutes. Then another “drunk” worked his way through the audience, interacting with many of us, while three women tried to sell us old magazines before they moved to the stage and started writing on the wall of the set. It was clear that we were on skid row, and it was also clear that we could expect the unexpected.

The character development in this show was one of its many strengths. Flower shop proprietor, Joel Porter as Mushnik was the archetypical Jewish shop owner (with accent to match). Cassie March, as Audrey the ditzy blond shop assistant, brought a whiny voice and Brooklyn accent that were perfect for the part, along with an energetic walk that looked like her legs were loosely tied together at the ankles. Kevin Caravalho as Seymour, the nebbish who takes care of Audrey II, the evil plant, was the focal point of nearly every scene — and deservedly so: he was acting, inhabiting his character, every moment, and it came through in an indescribable repertoire of head-to-toe comic gestures.

Then there was Bobby Grainger, who played many characters. His first appearance as the cartoonish plant-buyer who started the flower shop on its path to success was so unexpected and unabashedly wacky that we in the audience couldn’t stop laughing. He next appeared in his principal role as the sadistic dentist, Orin, but instead of entering on a motorcycle as was probably suggested in the script, he came down the center aisle of the theater on a Razor scooter. That was just the beginning of his hilarious, swaggering Elvis Presley-style character which culminated in his two big musical numbers, “Be a Dentist” and “Now (It’s Just the Gas)” which were screamingly funny, as in the latter number he laughed himself to death. But afterward he reappeared as numerous other characters to tempt Seymour with fame: a female Life magazine reporter, a gay talent agency representative, a tycoon with a Texan drawl and maybe another character or two. I can’t tell; I was laughing too hard. Each character had a different persona and a different accent, and I’m sure Bobby Grainger could put on a one-man comedy revue.

The plant, Audrey II, was represented by puppets of different sizes, controlled by two puppeteers (Brooke Blatnick and Jason Rudeen) and voiced by Andy Hyun, a true voice artist who not only gave incredible character to Audrey II’s lines (with a wicked, wicked laugh) but had a singing voice to match the other excellent voices in the cast, often pulling up bass tones that were really intimidating.

I’ve talked about acting and directing as if they were the greatest strengths of this production, but it’s a toss-up which was more impressive: the acting or the singing. The singing started with the women’s trio of Natasha Greer, Cassie Guthrie, and Marlise Dizon. In that first number, Natasha Greer displayed such a powerful voice as to make me utter an involuntary “Wow!” to which those around me nodded in agreement. But each member of the trio had a solo part that showed off her excellent voice. And after hearing each member of the cast sing, I have to conclude that the quality of the singing in this show was simply remarkable. And it wasn’t just the quality of the singing, but the effectiveness of singing in character, and the excellent ‘60s rock styling that was present in so many numbers. This was especially true of Kevin Caravalho.  As Seymour he was in almost every musical number, and his singing was often truly impressive.

Then there was the choreography. This was mostly in the moves of the women’s trio which were often reminiscent of the actions of the singers in the girl groups of the 50s and 60s. Beyond that, though, it felt like the choreography was really integral to the show. The actors didn’t seem like they were stopping to do pre-planned dance moves: they moved naturally and interestingly, reflecting the mood of the music and what was dictated by the plot. I have to add that that the women’s trio was more than back-up singing and cute dance moves. They were, collectively, a key character in the show: street people with attitude, subversive sirens, sympathetic friends, a detached Greek chorus, or a conscience (either the angel on one shoulder or the devil on the other). All these parts (at least as I imagined them) were played with flair.

I have always been impressed with the live bands at Rocklin Community Theatre productions, and once again, the 5-piece band under the direction of Peter Kagstrom filled Finn Hall with an authentic 60s rock-and-roll sound.

So much of what I’ve mentioned so far is evidence of the creative genius of co-directors, Mike Mechanick and Steve Gold. One more of their clever touches was the integration of video into the action of the show. There were 5 or 6 occasions when a large screen was opened at the right of the stage to show how Seymour first found the plant or how Audrey imagined her house in the country. These were clever interludes that opened the possibility of combining actors with graphics and animation. Then there were so many subtle, little things that added to the fun of the show. For example, Seymour gives the crying Audrey a Kleenex to wipe her tears. She does so, but also blows her nose a couple of times and hands the mess back to Seymour. Later, there’s a tender exchange between Seymour and Audrey, he closes his eyes and leans forward to kiss her, but she has headed for the door, and missing her, he almost falls before opening his eyes. But along with such subtleties were the big comedic inventions, such as the staging of the finale. The song was the upbeat “Don’t Feed the Plants,” and the way it was staged seemed totally fresh to me. Everyone who had been eaten by Audrey II appeared with zombie make-up and dress, and then they (plus backstage people) brought their zombie song and dance out into the audience to the delight (and maybe a little discomfort) of all.

Rocklin Community Theatre’s Little Shop of Horrors was not a staging of the show, so much as a reinvention of it: fresh, thoroughly entertaining, professionally performed, and loads of fun. I almost missed seeing it, and missing this particular comedy would have been a tragedy.