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Showing posts with label Jack Nicholson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack Nicholson. Show all posts

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Batman (1989)




There is a tendency in the comic book community to retroactively hate on earlier film adaptations of their superheroes, while anointing the new version as “the best adaptation ever.” This was the fate that befell the Tim Burton Batman movies when Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” trilogy hit theatre screens (the same fate also befell Richard Donner’s Superman movies after the release of Man of Steel). This is predicated on the logic that the Nolan movies are a far more faithful recreation of the Batman comic books than Tim Burton’s more gothic approach. The flaw with this argument is that there have been various incarnations of Batman throughout the decades, therefore the argument that the Nolan films are the most “faithful” is based entirely on what version of Batman you grew up with: Everyone talks about how the early Batman comics were dark and gritty, but they quickly took a more fantastical turn; as early as 1939, Batman was fighting vampires. By the time World War II rolled along, Batman went from being a dark vigilante to being a full-blooded patriot who devoted his time to fighting Nazis and the Japanese. In the 1950, he was a warm and fuzzy father figure who easily thwarted his incredibly inept enemies. 

I like the Christopher Nolan movies, but they didn’t nearly have the cultural impact that the Tim Burton movie had back in 1989. It is really hard to describe to younger audiences just how big Batman was in the summer of 1989; it wasn’t merely a movie; it was an event!  Super Hero movies have become a fixture in modern day cinema (Marvel has three movies slated for release in 2017, while DC has two), but they were a complete scarcity in the 1980s; the Superman series hit an all-time low with the 1987 Superman: The Quest for Peace. Before the Tim Burton, if you were to bring up Batman in a conversation, the Adam West television show would undoubtedly spring to mind. Sure, the comic book had already adopted a darker tone in the 1970s, but West’s tongue in cheek approach had cast a long shadow. It was the Tim Burton movie that helped shift the public perception of the character; he was no longer goofy Boy Scout but a dark, brooding vigilante that would resort to whatever means necessary to capture his guy. There have been complaints over the fact that Burton’s Batman kills, but this isn’t far removed from the early Batman comic books in which The Dark Knight often racked up a body count. 

I prefer the style of Burton’s movies to Nolan’s more “realistic approach.”  There is a timeless look to the Burton’s Batman movies; the characters dress in different fashions that it is really hard to pinpoint what time period it takes place in. The only thing that really dates the first movie to the 1980s are the songs by Prince. In my opinion, Tim Burton's Batman has the best opening of any comic book movie: two scuzzy muggers hold up a family in an alley way and are dividing the take on top of a building, when Batman swoops in and kicks their asses.  The reveal of Batman is extremely clever – the two muggers are stationed in the foreground when the Batman descends into frame in the background, while the two thieves remain oblivious to his presence. This effectively builds suspense, when will Batman strike? 


The main mugger shoots Batman multiple times and he falls to the ground, only to rise up again and take out the two bad men; bullets seemingly have no effect on Batman.  Batman then grabs the main mugger and holds him over the edge of the building, and then commands, “I want to you tell all your friends about me.”  Batman throws the man aside and jumps off the building. The mugger is scared shitless! It’s an incredibly exciting way to open a movie and definitely preferable to the disjointedness of Batman Begins. It is not only a visually exciting opening, but it sets up the psychological warfare Batman wages on crime – what makes Batman frightening is the idea that he could be watching you any place and any time, so you better be on your best behavior.  A mythic stature has already been bestowed upon Batman – the two muggers arguing over his existence before he punches them into next week. The interesting thing about Burton’s movie is that it avoids the structure of most Super Hero movies – the first half is devoted to the origin story, the second half has the hero fighting the villain – Batman has already begun his crime fighting campaign and has become a newsworthy topic. The police deny his existence, while secretly viewing him as a threat to the public.  
 
The main criticism of Tim Burton’s adaptation is that it is more of a Joker movie than an actual Batman film; this isn’t entirely false.  It is the Joker that is given a lengthy back story, while Bruce Wayne’s is told in a brief flashback.  Jack Nicholson certainly dominates the proceedings with his wonderfully over the top performance as the Joker.  However, even this isn’t too far removed from the comic books – Batman’s foes were often far more colorful (and interesting) than he was.  Tim Burton’s interpretation of the character is that he is a man that keeps to the shadows and has a very low key personality; Bruce Wayne goes through the motions of being a millionaire – he holds fundraisers, he attends business meetings, and he dates attractive women.  The only time he comes to life is when he dons the bat suit and fights criminals. This is not the flamboyant character from the Batman TV series. He is so obsessed with his work that he foregoes a social life and is willing to sacrifice a potential romance with Vicki Vale. I always felt that Michael Keaton was miscast in the role of the Caped Crusader, but he is good enough of an actor that it isn’t too big of an issue. I also prefer his interpretation of The Dark Knight to Christian Bales nonstop grunting. 


I like the fact that Burton and company don’t go to the default ending of most modern Super Hero movies – the leveling of an entire city. It ends on a rather small, personal note: Batman faces off against the Joker in a church bell tower.  It’s a completely unique sequence and certainly trumps the massive amounts of destruction seen in most modern day Super Hero movies; it’s really hard to distinguish one from the other.  Batman certainly has its share of flaws; I never bought Alfred showing Vicki Vale into the Batcave behind his master’s back.  Alfred over steps his bounds and would probably feel the wrath of Batman in some form or other. Also, Bruce Wayne has only known Vicki Vale for a couple of days; therefore it’s a bid odd that he would want to reveal his true identity to her.  In Batman Returns, it is revealed that their relationship didn’t work out. Way to go, Alfred.  Plus, the reveal that it was the Joker that murdered Bruce Wayne’s parents is a bit too convenient. It’s an unnecessary addition to the script that doesn’t really serve any purpose. If Batman is solely drive by revenge, then killing the Joker should be enough for him to move on. 



I know I’m in a minority when I say that I prefer the Burton movies to Christopher Nolan’s trilogy, and I’m willing to admit that there is a nostalgic bias at work. The Tim Burton movie came at the right time in my life (I was ten) and is what got me hooked on the Batman comic books. It was the first time I, and most fans, had seen a more serious adaptation of the comic books.  The Christopher Nolan movies are terrific movies, but I’ve notice they are much easier to nitpick because of Nolan’s “realistic” approach.  It is easier to accept the flaws in the Burton movie, because it never makes an attempt at realism and is much more fantastical in its approach.  However, the Nolan films deserve credit for willing to take risks, when most Super Hero movies play it safe. However, it must be said that if it wasn’t for the success of Tim Burton’s 1989 movie, there is a good chance that the Nolan movies would have never been made. 

Credits
Cast: Jack Nicholson (Jack Napier/The Joker), Michael Keaton (Bruce Wayne/Batman), Kim Basinger (Vicki Vale), Robert Wuhl (Alexander Knox), Michael Gough (Alfred), Pat Hingle (Commissioner James Gordon), Billy Wee Williams(Harvey Dent), Jack Palance (Carl Grissom), Jerry Hall (Alicia), Tracey Walter (Bob the Goon), William Hootkins (Lt. Eckhardt), Lee Wallace (The Mayor).
Director: Tim Burton
Screenplay: Sam Hamm, Warren Skaaren.
Running Time: 126 min.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Head (1968)




It’s really hard to describe the movie Head, it’s the kind of film that you will either love or absolutely hate; there is practically no middle ground. I belong to the former category myself, as I find it to be an extremely amusing, if dated, piece of film making.  It’s definitely a product of its time; the late 1960’s. It is a movie that is about nothing, but says everything about its leading actors, The Monkees.  It was an attempt by the Monkees to shed their squeaky clean teen idol image in hopes of ingratiating themselves with the counterculture.  Head is the ultimate “college” movie, but sadly, college students at the time just yawned with indifference; they would have rather been dead than sit through a movie starring those “musical hacks,” The Monkees. The studio, of course, was oblivious to this fact and gave Rafelson the green light to make Head. The movie baffled the group's initial fan base, who went in expecting a goofy comedy, but instead were treated to a heady, and rather cynical, movie. To the fans (all three of them) that saw Head in  1968, it must have felt like the Monkees were flipping them the bird. I can only imagine the look of horror on their faces as Mickey Dolenz jumps off the Golden Gate Bridge in what is, essentially, an act of suicide.
Mind you, this happens at the very beginning of the film. The movie was a financial disaster and sent the Monkees in a nose dive that they never recovered from.  The studio (Columbia) didn't help matters with their piss poor promotional campaign; the TV spot  consisted of a thirty second close up of a man's face, then the word "HEAD" appeared on his forehead. The theatrical trailer to the movie was just as incomprehensible; it rapidly flashes images (in some case, outtakes) from the film, while playing random sound bites.



Rafelson was not content with just doing a full length episode of the Monkees and wanted to do something extremely different, nay extraordinarily insane, make a free form, stream of consciousness movie. There is no discernible plot to Head, nor, for that matter, is there a single character that the audience can relate to. Sure, we recognize The Monkees, but none of them are particularly sympathetic and are, at times,  down right unlikable; in one scene, Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz take wagers on whether or not a bikini clad woman will jump from the top of a building. The audience never really cares about the plight of the characters, because there is nothing to care about. 

Head often plays like an episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus; like that show, it is a series of sketches that bleed into one another.  It is very self referential, rather than gloss over the fact that The Monkees were a manufactured product created to sell records, it fully embraces it (“a manufactured image with no philosophies.”) It constantly calls attention to the artifice by frequently breaking the fourth wall; Micky Dolenz gets frustrated and storms off the set of a western,  Peter Tork is worried about his image when the script calls for him to punch a woman, etc.
As a result, the audience never knows what is real (in the movie) and what is fake, thus creating a very surreal experience.  It is extremely fitting that at one point Peter starts whistling “Strawberry Fields Forever,” because, as the lyric in that song states, “nothing is real.”

In the movie, the Monkees are treated with absolute contempt by their co-workers; just their presence is enough to clear out the studio cafeteria. A few seconds later,  an overweight waitress sees them and quips, "Well, if it isn't God's gift to the eight-year-olds."  This is grounded in reality, as they were greeted with absolute disdain by the critics, who saw them as a cheap knock off of The Beatles (the pressed dubbed them the "Pre-Fab Four"). The Monkees TV show was greatly influenced by A Hard Day's Night, so this criticism has some merit. However, what really hurt The Monkees reputation was the revelation that they didn't play their own instruments on their albums. Of course, neither did the Beach Boys and many other, more respected bands from that era; The Monkees were singled out solely for the fact that they were a "manufactured" product. The result of this controversy is the common belief that The Monkees were no talent hacks that happened to be at the right place at the right time; they are no better than the Justin Biebers and Britney Spears of the world! Right?   What is largely ignored is that they could play their own instruments (they played live shows)  and actually did on the "Headquarters" album.  It needs to be mentioned that both Peter Tork and Michael Nesmith were fairly accomplished musicians in their own right, and wrote a few of the bands songs. Nesmith even manage to pen a hit song for Linda Ronstadt and The Stoney Poneys, "A Different Drum." The Beatles actually liked The Monkees and were big fans of the show.



I bring all this up, because it shows the mind set of the group as they prepared to make the movie Head. This was their chance to shed their prefabricated  TV image once and for all, and to prove their critics wrong. Of course, in 1968, it was a complete and utter disaster. However, like many other movies from that era, Head has developed a cult following. A part of this is due to Jack Nicholson's involvement with the film; he co-wrote the screenplay and has a "blink or you'll miss it" cameo in the middle of the movie. Head, in many ways, feels like a warm up for the following year's Easy Rider; they shared a lot of the same talent  and both have "loose narratives," and disillusioned protagonists.  Easy Rider resonated with the counterculture and was a box office smash; it was more grounded in reality, and visualized the hopes, and fears, of it's target audience. This is fairly surprising, considering that it is an extremely bleak film.

It's not too surprising that I find Head to be the superior out of the two movies; it definitely has similar flaws, like it's over reliance on psychedelic effects (a few scenes use the solarization process), but it is a much more energetic and creative film.  Easy Rider has a few wonderful moments scattered about, especially when Jack Nicholson enters the movie, but it is also incredibly boring at times. Head may have originally been a statement about The Monkees discontent with the system, but there are moments that still ring true today. There is a scene where the Monkees are onstage performing "Circle Sky," while shots of fans screaming are superimposed over their playing; one female fan looks like she's on the verge of having an orgasm. They scream the entire time, never once stopping to listen to the lyrics and trying to comprehend their meaning. It's not the music that excites them, but rather the product that is being presented onstage; the scenes end with rabid fans storming the stage and, literally, tearing the Monkees to bits. This is a phenomenon that is still alive in music today, fans (not necessarily teenagers) getting excited over a hyped up performer, regardless of the quality of his/her music. Head takes this idea a step further by juxtaposing images of the Vietnam War into the scene, thus hinting at how oblivious an obsessed fanbase can be to the world around them. It's a truly unnerving sequence and even a bit squeamish at times. How this movie got a G rating is a mystery to me?

My favorite moment is Micky Dolenz wandering through the desert, on the verge of dehydration. Just then he spots something in the corner of his eye; the film cuts to a long shot of Coca-Cola vending machine on top of a sand dune. Micky runs to the machine, inserts a few coins, and, much to his frustration, finds that the machine is empty. He starts banging on the machine, while the Coca-Cola jingle plays on the sound track. It's one of the funniest, and surreal, scenes from 1960's American Cinema.


Head is an underrated film that deserved a greater success; it only grossed a paltry $16,000 in its initial release. It's definitely worth a look, whether or not you are a fan of the Monkees. It may surprise you! Also, any film that has Frank Zappa giving Davy Jones pointers on how to improve his music can't be all bad.



Credits
Cast:  Micky Dolenz (Himself), Davy Jones (Himself), Michael Nesmith (Himself), Peter Tork (Himself),  Annette Funicello (Minnie), Timothy Carey (Lord High’ n Low), Teri Garr (Testy True),  Victor Mature (The Big Victor),  Logan Ramsey (Officer Lapid), Abraham Sofaer (Swami), Vito Scotti (I, Vitteloni), Frank Zappa (The Critic), Ray Nitschke (Private One), Carol Doda (Sally Sillcone), June Fairchild (The Jumper), I.J. Jefferson (Lady Pleasure), Sonny Liston (Extra) Toni Basil (Dancer).

Director: Bob Rafelson
Screenplay: Bob Rafelson, Jack Nicholson.
Running Time:  88 min. 

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Batman (TV Series): Why It's Friggin' Awesome, despite what comic book purists would have you believe.



I think for most people from my generation (and my parents) their first exposure to Batman was the campy 1960s television show starring Adam West. It was a show that I watched religiously when I was a kid, to the point that when it was taken off syndication I was absolutely devastated. I sat in my room for days and sulked about it. How could I live without my daily dose of The Dynamic Duo? It also meant that I would deprived of the greatest TV theme song in history.

The highlight of each episode was the fight scenes, whenever Batman and Robin would punch villain, words like, POW, BAM, BOOF, would appear on the screen. It was away to emphasize the very comic book nature of the television show.
The Batman in the TV show was an upstanding citizen who apparently had no vices, he didn't drink, didn't smoke and was able to keep his sexual urges in check, despite the fact that beautiful women were constantly throwing themselves at him. He was a goody two shoes who packed a mean wallop.

As a kid, Adam West was the DEFINITIVE Batman, until 1989, when the Tim Burton/Michael Keaton movie was released. The Tim Burton film went back to Batman's roots and made him a dark, brooding character haunted by the death of his parents, as opposed to the rather whimsical, benevolent authority figure of the old Adam West series. It was the DEFINITIVE Batman movie, until 2005 when Batman Begins was released to the cinemas.  Christopher Nolan's version was more grittier and less stylized than Burton's interpretation, and more importantly, Bruce Wayne was the central figure in the story, rather than a supporting player. Tim Burton's films, Batman and Batman Returns, were more interested in the plight of the villains and often pushed Batman/Bruce Wayne to the sidelines. Last year, Nolan finally completed his trilogy with The Dark Knight Rises, so it's only inevitable that in a few years time another reboot of the Batman franchise will be commissioned. Whether or not it will replace Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy as the DEFINITIVE Batman remains to be see.

I have done a complete 360 on the 1960s television series: I loved it as a kid, was embarrassed by it as a teen (especially after seeing the "serious" Burton films), and now love it as an adult. The television series may be a complete bastardization the original character, but it makes for some rather enjoyable (and funny) television. Of course, it's often overlooked that throughout the 1950s and most of the 1960s (the Silver Age) the Batman comic books themselves had devolved into rather silly children's stories. The villains weren't so much evil geniuses as they were merry pranksters with too much time on their hands. A typical story line from this era might involve the Joker trying to rob a pie factory in Gotham so he could stage the biggest pie fight in history. These comic books were aimed solely at kids and the TV show, for the most part, followed suit. It was also the campy TV show that brought Batman back into the spotlight after years of dwindling comic book sales.

What makes the TV show entertaining is Adam West's ability to deliver his lines in a straight manner, regardless as to how ridiculous they might sound. Oddly enough, when I was a kid, the campy humor went above my head, and I took the show absolutely seriously. When I watch the 1966 feature length film, I couldn't comprehend why my dad was laughing hysterically during the scene where Batman is punching a rubber shark that latched on his leg. This scene features the immortal line, "Hand me down the shark repellent bat spray." It is a moment that makes serious comic book fans cringe, but it is absolutely hilarious, especially with West's dry delivery.

I never liked character of Robin, even in the comic books and cartoons, and Burt Ward's take on the character can be extremely grating at times; to the point where one wishes Batman would give the Boy Wonder a nice crack in the jaw after his latest outburst of "HOLY______, Batman!"  Robin in the TV series main function was to get caught so Batman would have an excuse to fight the villains. Every once in a blue moon the writers would give him something useful to do, but otherwise he was a complete hindrance to the Caped Crusader's war on crime.  Robin in the TV series was essentially a boy scout in tights. 

Then there was the rogues gallery of villains, some of the most colorful characters in television (and comic book) history:
Catwoman: Three actresses played Catwoman during the show's run (well, two played the role on the television, one played the character in the movie), Julie Newmar, Eartha Kitt, and Lee Meriwether. 
Julie Newmar's interpretation is probably the most famous and best loved out of three, partly due to the fact that she had a wonderful chemistry with Adam West, but mostly because she was.....extremely... hot. 


Newmar's Catwoman was flirtatious with Batman and had a soft spot for him, to the point where she even contemplated giving up crime to be with him. In one of my favorite exchanges from the TV series, Catwoman offers turn a new leaf:

Batman: I'll do everything I can to rehabilitate you.
Catwoman:  Marry me!
Batman: Everything, except that! A wife, no matter how beauteous or affectionate, would severely impair my crime fighting.
Catwoman: But I can help you with your work. As a former criminal, I would be invaluable. I can reform. Honestly I can! 
Batman: What about Robin?
Catwoman: Robin?! Oh, I've got it. We'll kill him!

As a kid (and still as an adult) I was absolutely irate that Batman turned down her offer. Sure, killing Robin is excessive, but Catwoman would certainly be a more apt crime fighting partner than Robin, the Boy Blunder. She even tells him as much, but Batman turns her down. IDIOT! For my money, Newmar's portrayal is still the best (and yes that includes Michelle Pfeiffer and Anne Hathaway). 

Lee Meriwether (Miss America 1955) take on the character was much different, she had an icy cold exterior and didn't get all starry eyed when she encountered Batman. She took her role as a criminal very seriously and used her pretty looks (and sexuality) to lure Bruce Wayne into a trap. 

Catwoman and her cohorts (The Joker, Penguin, The Riddler), came up with an elaborate scheme to kidnap Bruce Wayne, so they could trap Batman when he came to rescue the famous millionaire. They wanted to lure Batman into a giant spring that would send him soaring into the arms of the Joker's exploding octopus. Needless to say, it didn't go according to plan. 


Meriwether was the first Catwoman I ever saw, so I will always I have a soft spot for her portrayal. 

When Earth Kitt inherited the role in the show's final season, the sexual tension between Batman and Catwoman was nonexistent, instead she purred her way through the scenery. Earth Kitt was by no means a bad Catwoman, but the dynamic between the two characters was far less interesting; she lacked Newmar's sex appeal and didn't quite possess Meriwether's cold hearted villainy, either. Though, Kitt's distinctive voice was a lot of fun to listen to.  

The Joker (Cesar Romero): It's common to disparage Caesar Romero's portrayal of the Joker, especially when compared to the much darker interpretations that Jack Nicholson (an multiple Oscar Winner) and Heath Ledger (the role he won the Oscar for) gave to the character.  Romero's Joker is a jovial prankster whose main goal in life is to embarrass Batman on a national stage. His schemes are completely impractical and, as a result, there is often no collateral damage involved when his plan is inevitably foiled. The Joker doesn't wish anyone (except for Batman) harm, he's mainly a criminal for his own amusement. 



While the Nicholson/Ledger incarnations are more truer to the comics, they would be completely out of place in the television series. The TV show was meant to be fun for the family, so the sight of the Joker smashing a guy's skull into a pencil would probably not go over well with parents.  Nor would him hand buzzing a gangster to death. Romero brought a lot of energy to the role, so even though his Joker may not be remotely like the one in the comics, he was still a lot of fun to watch. 

The Riddler (Frank Gorshin): Frank Gorshin's manic portrayal of the Riddler is vastly superior to any of the actors that followed in his footsteps; Jim Carrey's take on the character in Batman Forever is a piss poor imitation of Gorshin. The Riddler absolutely enjoyed toying with the Caped Crusader, his main down fall was his over confidence. He was so certain that he would succeed that he would give Batman and Robin clues to those crimes in the form of riddles, thinking that they wouldn't be able to figure them out, or that he and his cronies would be ready for the dynamic duo when they showed their faces. He always failed, but it never dissuaded him (then again, that applies to all the Batman villains).  The less I say about John Astin's brief stint as the Riddler, the better. 



The Penguin (Burgess Meredith): The Penguin was always a silly character, not even a gritty reboot would be able to disguise just what a ridiculous villain he truly was. He walked like a penguin, had an extremely long nose, wore a monocle, and always had a cigarette holder protruding from his mouth. While he is extremely out of place in the dark, gritty Batman comics, he is a perfect fit for the campy TV show. 
The Penguin's crimes were always bird related and always chose extremely transparent bird themed aliases to throw the law off his track. In Batman: The Movie, he buys a pre-atomic submarine under the pseudonym P. N. Guin.  He labeled himself as being a SUPER GENIUS criminal mastermind, but was always bested by Batman. Whenever the Penguin disapproved of something he would let out a "Quack" sound. 


There were other colorful villains in the shows run as well: Egghead, King Tut, The Book Worm, False Face,The Minstrel, Mr. Freeze, but it's the four highlighted above that were, and still are, the most popular.

In the show's final season the character of Barbara Gordon/Batgirl was introduced. She was portrayed by beach movie regular (and frequent Elvis co-star) Yvonne Craig. Her character served dual purposes, it offered the girls a positive role model and it gave the boys more eye candy to look at. 
Batgirl's identity was a completely mystery to Batman and Robin, and she would often slip away before the Dynamic Duo had a chance to ask her any questions. She was a certainly more competent hero than Robin (and all the Gotham police force, but that goes without saying). Her alter ego, Barbara Gordon, was an extremely intelligent woman and could often figure out the criminals schemes/ where abouts before Batman and without the aid of a computer. She was also fairly adept at handling herself in fights, often holding her own with Batman and Robin (well, maybe not Batman, but she often bested Robin in terms of knock outs). Unfortunately, for all her toughness, she also had a tendency to get herself captured by the villains, then Batman would come along to save the day. Still, she was infinitely better than Robin. Yvonne Craig is leagues better than Alicia Silverstone, who stuttered her way through the role in 1997's Batman & Robin




As I mentioned before, Batman purists absolutely loathe the 60s TV show, because in their minds it makes a complete mockery out of the character. It wouldn't be until the 1989 Tim Burton film that the character would be a given a more serious minded treatment and since then the dark, troubled Batman of the Burton/Nolan films have supplanted the warm, whimsical Batman of the 60s. When Joel Schumacher went back to the camp format in Batman & Robin the movie going public rejected it, to the point where it's regarded as one of the worst movies ever made. In all fairness, it is a fairly dreadful film. It successfully killed the first Batman movie series but made way for the Christopher Nolan reboot. It's easy to rag on the Batman show for its camp aesthetics, but let's not forget that the comic book itself was extremely silly at the time. The 1960s Batman TV show is just one of the many faces the Caped Crusader has donned over the last eighty plus years, rather than being disgusted by it, Batman fans should embrace it. There's more than enough for room for two different interpretations of the same character (and in the comic book's case there's been 
more than that), so LIGHTEN UP PEOPLE! 
Besides, nothing in the Nolan films can top the sight of Batman running through this streets with a bomb over his head, looking for a place to dispose of it. (NOTE: This clip has been replaced with music from Benny Hill, as I could't find a decent clip with the original score.) 





Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Little Shop of Horrors (1960) vs. Little Shop of Horrors (1986)







1986 – While watching the television, the family sees a commercial for an upcoming comedy that features a talking plant and stars the geek from Ghostbusters; even better Bill Murray is in it. My sister and I were huge fans of Ghostbusters (and still are) as kids, so we implore our dad to take us to this movie and he eventually acquiesces. We drive on down to Northtown cinemas and 90 minutes later leave the film completely stunned; what had we just watched?  However, my sister and I eventually agree that Little Shop of Horrors was a fairly good movie, despite Bill Murray’s limited screen time; the TV ads completely played up Bill Murray’s role in the film. We explain to our cousins the scene in which Seymour (Rick Moranis) chops up the dentist Orin Scrivello (Steve Martin) and feeds him to the plant and their response is, “They actually chopped up Steve Martin?” Nope, just the character he played. 
Flash forward to 1989- I’m browsing through the TV listings and notice that the local PBS station (channel 10) is showing The Little Shop of Horrors at 11 PM on Saturday night; I am absolutely elated. Though, it does strike me a bit odd that PBS would be airing a fairly recent, big budget movie on their station, but I shrug it off, the important thing is I get to see Little Shop of Horrors again. Imagine to my horror, that instead of showing the big budgeted musical comedy from 1986, they instead were showing a black and white film from the 1960s…an EXTREMELY cheap black and white film.  “Where’s Bill Murray? Where’s Rick Moranis?” I shouted. Not to mention the film end’s on a rather bleak note; the death of Seymour. There’s no happy ending with him and Audrey, instead he gets devoured by the plant and gets turned into a flower.
A few years later, The Little Shop of Horrors is once again airing on PBS and I decide to give it another chance, mainly because there is nothing better on television. And much to my surprise…..I LIKE IT A LOT BETTER THIS TIME AROUND! I finally get the black humor that is prevalent throughout and realize that the bleak ending (Seymour’s death) is the RIGHT ending. Seymour is a complete and utter klutz that there’s really no other way this film could have ended.  I liked it so much that I bought a VHS copy of it at ShopKo for 1.99. 

Roger Corman had such little interest in The Little Shop of Horrors that he never bothered to renew the copyright. It largely became a cult film because of how often it popped up on television and video shelves over the years, it was often common to find numerous copies of the film with a different distributor right next to one another.  I remember one gimmick to sell the video was that it came with a bag of microwavable popcorn. In the 80s the ultimate gimmick to sell old black and white films was to colorize them and The Little Shop of Horrors received this treatment twice. The most common ploy was (and still is) to play up Jack Nicholson's involvement in the film by either giving his name prominent billing on the video case, or a drawing of him holding the plant.
 

Part I: The influence of A Bucket of Blood (1959)
It should be noted that The Little Shop of Horrors is essentially a reworking of the Roger Corman/Charles B. Griffith film A Bucket of Blood.  The Little Shop of Horrors has the exact same plot beats as A Bucket of Blood:  
1)      The protagonists:

In A Bucket of Blood the protagonist is an awkward, slightly clumsy bus boy named Walter Paisley (the great Dick Miller). He works at a coffee house that is populated by Beatniks, most notable among the group is the popular beat poet Maxwell (Julian Burton) who never reads the poem twice, because he doesn’t want to repeat himself. Paisley idolizes Maxwell and has a crush on the pretty hostess Carla (Barboura Morris), while trying to stay on the good side of his disapproving boss Leonard (Antony Carbone).  Walter accidentally kills his landlord’s cat and inspired by the word of Maxwell, covers it up with clay and passes it off as a sculpture. He is hailed as a genius by his peers. The next day, one of his female admirers gives Walter dope as a gift, this exchange is witnessed by an undercover cop. The cop confronts Walter at his apartment. Walter panics and hits the cop over the head with a frying pan. He then covers the corpse with clay and presents it to his new found friends as "Murdered Man." They are galvanized as to how realistic Walter's sculpture looks. The bodies pile up as Walter murders a much hated nude model and a saw mill worker. Finally, Walter is discovered and pays the ultimate price.
 

 In The Little Shop of Horrors the protagonist is the horribly clumsy Seymour Krelboin (Jonathan Haze), who is a clerk at a rundown floral shop.  He harbors a crush on the cute, but ditzy Audrey (Jackie Joseph), while doing everything in his power to stay on good terms with his ever condescending boss Mr. Mushnick (Mel Welles).  Seymour is about to get fired by Mr. Mushnick, when he shows him the new plant he has grown;  Mr. Mushnick will let Seymour keep his job if he can nurse the plant back to health. While sitting up with the plant at night, Seymour accidentally cuts his finger on a thorn and much to his horror finds that the plant (named Audrey Junior after his crush) feeds on blood. He gives it a few drops of his blood and the next day the plant has grown in size, Seymour is promptly hailed a genius by his peers.  Mushnick tells Seymour to call him "dad," that is until the plant takes on a sickly appearance. Seymour is reading up on how to nurse the plant back to help, when he hears a voice cry, "Feed Me!" Much to Seymour's surprise, the voice is coming from the plant. Seymour goes for a walk to clear his thoughts and accidentally kills a drunken night watchman. He then feeds the remains to the plant. The next day Audrey Junior has grown tremendously in size, once again Seymour is proclaimed a genius. As the film progresses, two more people get fed to the plant before Seymour is discovered. 

2)      The discovery:
In both A Bucket of Blood and The Little Shop of Horrors the bosses of the protagonists accidentally stumble upon the hero’s bloody secret midway through the movie, the only thing that keeps them from going to the police is pure greed.
A Bucket of Blood – Leonard accidentally knocks over Walter’s cat sculpture, only to find fur sticking out from underneath it. When Walter comes in with his new sculpture “Murdered Man,” Leonard is about to call the police when a customer offers him 500 bucks for the cat sculpture. He can’t resist the offer and keeps Walter’s secret. Leonard tries to make things right by steering Walter in another direction (abstract art), one that does not involve murder.
The Little Shop of Horrors- Mr. Mushnick is having dinner with Audrey and discovers that he forgot his wallet. He goes back to the floral shop to pick up some cash and stumbles upon Seymour feeding the remains of a dead night watchman to Audrey Junior.  The next morning he is set on calling the police, when he finds a huge line of customers waiting outside his floral shop. Audrey Junior has grown tremendously in size and the floral shop is raking in the dough. Like Leonard before him, Mushnick keeps Seymour’s secret and is relieved when Seymour tells him that the plant can’t possibly get any bigger. 

3)      The conclusion:

A Bucket of Blood ends when Carla notices a finger nail sticking out of the sculpture of a strangled woman Walter did. She confronts Walter and he tells her the truth; he then tells her he can make her immortal like the rest of them. Carla runs out of the coffeehouse and Walter chases after her. Meanwhile, an undercover cop notices a great similarity between “Murdered Man” and his missing partner and he promptly smashes the sculpture with a chair.  He then chases after Walter with Maxwell in tow.  Walter starts hearing  the voices of his victims and runs to his apartment. He covers his face in clay and hangs himself. The undercover cop, Maxwell, and Carla burst in on the gruesome scene; Maxwell proclaims this Walter’s masterpiece and that he would have no doubt called it “Hanging Man.”

The Little Shop of Horrors ends when everyone gathers in the floral shop to witness the opening of the buds on Audrey Junior. The buds open to reveal the faces of the four victims that have been fed to the plant: a night watchman, a sadistic dentist, a thief, and a prostitute. Seymour gets cornered by two cops and shouts, “I didn’t mean it!” He then runs out of the shop and the two cops chase after him with Mr. Mushnick in tow.  Seymour manages to lose the cops, goes back to the little shop, grabs a knife and crawls in Audrey Junior’s mouth.  Mr. Mushnick, the two cops, Audrey, and Winifred (Seymour’s mom) return to the shop to find another bud sitting in Audrey Junior’s mouth. The bud opens to reveal the face of Seymour, who moans “I didn’t mean it” and then falls over dead. 


4)      Other similarities:
Other than the similar storylines A Bucket of Blood and The Little Shop of Horrors have a few other things in common:

a)They were shot in the same set. A Bucket of Blood was shot in the span of five days. Roger Corman realized the value of a leftover set and promptly shot The Little Shop of Horrors (if legend is to be believed) in TWO DAYS, breaking his previous record. 

b)They utilize the same score. This is most noticeable in scenes that involve Seymour and Walter wandering around town, stumbling upon their next victims. 

c)Walter and Seymour both utter the phrase, “I didn’t mean it” throughout the course of the film.

d)Return cast members: Dick Miller, the star of A Bucket of Blood, returns in The Little Shop of Horrors as the flowering eating Mr. Fouch. It’s a small role, but Miller makes the most of it and actually helps drive the narrative by suggesting to Mr. Muschnick that he should let Seymour display his exotic plant. Myrtle Vail, who played Walter’s landlord in A Bucket of Blood, plays Seymour’s hypochondriac mom. In an interesting note, she was also the grandmother of screenwriter Charles B. Griffith, who not only wrote both films, but did the voice of Audrey Junior as well.
The only major difference (the other than whole talking, man eating plant) between the two films is that in A Bucket of Blood, Walter’s love for Carla is unrequited; she never thinks of him as being more than just a friend. When Walter asks Carla to pose for him, she is flattered, unaware of Walter’s sinister motives.  In The Little Shop of Horrors, Audrey for some inexplicable reason reciprocates Seymour’s love.  At one point she even goads Seymour into proposing to her.  Not surprisingly, Griffith would return to this formula twenty years later with Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Hype.


Part II: The Off Broadway Play
In 1982 the off Broadway production of “Little Shop of Horrors” premiered at WPA (Workshop of the Player’s Art) and later open off Broadway at the Orpheum theatre on July 27,1982. The musical (written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken) followed by the basic structure of the Corman original, but it made a few significant changes to the overall storyline:

1)      Menken and Ashman simplified the narrative by removing most of the supporting characters from the original film; there are no scenes with Seymour’s hypochondriac mother and the subplot of the two detectives investigating local disappearances is completely scrapped. The musical added the characters of Chiffon, Crystal and Ronette who basically serve as a Greek chorus.

2)      The name of the sadistic dentist in the original (Pheobus Farb) has been changed to Orin Scrivello and he serves a much bigger function in the overall narrative; his abusive treatment of Audrey is what motivates Seymour into feeding him to the plant.

3)      Audrey Junior, now Audrey II manipulates Seymour into doing his dirty work. Audrey II offers Seymour fame, fortune, and Audrey if he can keep him healthy. In the end, it is revealed the Audrey II’s true goal is world domination. In the original film, Audrey Junior’s goal was merely to survive and its behavior was on par with that of bratty child, whining until it goes its way.

4)      The Deaths. In the musical, Seymour actively seeks out victims for Audrey II, whereas in the original film he has a habit of stumbling into trouble.  This is how the murders play out in the original film:

a)      The Night Watchman – Seymour is walking through a train yard, thinking of ways to nurse Audrey Junior back to health.  He sees a beer bottle and tries to vent out his frustration by throwing a rock at a bottle, unfortunately he ends up hitting the night watchman in the head. The night watchman is in a stupor and stumbles onto the train tracks, where he is promptly run over by an oncoming train. Seymour panics, gathers up the night watchman’s remains and tries to dispose of them. He gets thwarted everywhere he goes and finally returns to the floral shop and feeds the remains to Audrey Junior.

b)      Phoebus Farb – Seymour has a horrible toothache and goes to the dentist Dr. Farb to get it pulled. However, Dr. Farb is a sadist and enjoys inflicting pain on his patients. He comes at Seymour with a scalpel and in self dense Seymour grabs an electric tooth drill and lunges at Dr. Farb, killing him in the process. Before he can feed Dr. Farb to Audrey Junior, he must deal with the masochistic patient Wilbur Force (Jack Nicholson). Seymour pretends to be Dr. Farb and pulls out Wilbur’s teeth, much to Wilbur’s delight.

c)       The thief- Mr. Mushnick decides to stay up with Audrey Junior and orders Seymour to take Audrey out on a date. Mr. Mushnick wants to make sure no one else gets fed to the plant, but his plans get derailed when a thief breaks into the store and demands that Mr. Mushnick tell him where the cash is hidden.  He points a gun at Mushnick and gives Mushnick til the count of five to tell him where the money is, or else. Mr. Mushnick tells the man that the money is inside Audrey Junior. The thief looks inside Audrey’s mouth and gets swallowed whole.

d)      The Prostitute- Audrey Junior manages to hypnotize Seymour into finding another body for him to eat. While walking through the city, Seymour is constantly be harassed by a prostitute, who is determined to go home with Seymour. He is completely unresponsive to most of her tactics, but she catches up to him as he ponders what to do next. When she asks, “My place or yours?” Seymour spits on a rock and tells her to call “wet” or “dry” as a way to determine where they should go. Seymour throws the rock in the air and it crashes downs on her head.

e)      Seymour- Seymour returns to the floral shop after ditching the police and yells at Audrey Junior, claiming it ruined his life. He grabs a knife and climbs inside Audrey Junior’s mouth and gets eaten for his effort; though he does mortally wound the plant.
The deaths in the musical play out in an entirely different fashion; the victims are not random strangers, but the main characters. Ashmen/Menken were retelling The Little Shop of Horrors as variation of Faust.  Seymour is the Faust character who sells his soul to the devil (Audrey II) to get everything he wants, but instead loses everything in the end. 
a)      Orin Scrivello – Seymour arranges a late dentist appointment with Orin with the intention of killing him with a pistol. But Seymour chickens out. However, Orin is getting high on nitrous oxide and dies of asphyxiation when the gas tank gets stuck in the on position. Seymour feeds Orin’s body the Audrey II. This ends the first act.

b)      Mr. Mushnik- Mr. Mushnik accuses Seymour for causing Orin’s death and wants him to give a statement to the police. Before they leave, Seymour tells Mr. Mushnik that he put the day’s receipts inside Audrey II for safe keeping. Mr. Mushnik climbs inside Audrey II’s jaws and gets devoured. This death is taken from the 1960 film, instead of thief being tricked into climbing into the plant’s jaws, it is Mr. Mushnik.

c)       Audrey- Unable to sleep because of Seymour’s behavior, Audrey goes to the plant shop to talk to him. He is not there and the plant talks to her, begging her for some water.  Audrey approaches the plant to water it and a vine wraps around her and pulls her into the plant’s jaws. Seymour arrives and pulls Audrey out of the plans jaws, but he is too late, she has been mortally wounded. Her dying wish is to be feed to the plant, so she and Seymour can be together forever. She dies in his arms and he honors her request by feeding her corpse to the plant.

d)      Seymour- Patrick Martin from World Botanical Enterprises tells Seymour that his company would like to take leaf clippings of Audrey II and sell them across America. Seymour realizes that Audrey II is bent on world domination and decides to stop him, no matter what. Much to Seymour’s horror neither poison nor bullets have any effect on the plant, so out of desperation he runs at its open mouth with a machete, hoping to kill it from the inside, but gets eaten quickly.
The next day Patrick Martin returns and taking clippings from Audrey II. The chorus (Ronette, Chiffon, Crystal) relates that following these events more plants popped up across America, tricking people into feeding them blood in exchange for fame and fortune.  Audrey II appears with new flowers that open to reveal the faces of Seymour, Audrey, Mr. Mushnik, and Orin warning people not to feed the plants. Audrey II slithers towards the audience and the play ends. 
Part III:  The 1986 film adaptation.



The play proved to be a great success and it was only matter of time that it would be adapted into a big budgeted movie. Frank Oz was chosen to direct the film adaptation, which makes sense given that he was an important part of The Muppets, and operated and voice Yoda in The Empire Strike Back; he certainly possessed the technical knowhow when it came to puppetry.  Frank Oz was determined to retain the musical’s downbeat ending, but test audiences reactions proved to be extremely negative.  A happier ending was filmed, to guarantee the film would be released, so instead of being reduced to plant food, Seymour and Audrey survive and live happily together in a home straight out of “Better Home and Gardens” magazine.  Though, even the happy ending is fairly ambiguous; after we see Seymour and Audrey enter their new home the camera pans down to a garden to reveal another baby Audrey II, who smiles at the camera. Granted, if Seymour were to spot this Audrey II, he probably would dispose of it with a weed whacker.  It’s common now, especially on IMDB boards, to chastise the test audiences for “ruining” Little Shop of Horrors and being “extremely limited in their thinking” in terms of cinema. However, I think the test audience’s opinion was a valid one; both Audrey and Seymour are extremely likable that seeing them get eaten by Audrey II feels like a betrayal. You spend the majority of the film caring for these two characters that it becomes disheartening when it becomes just one long special effects demo reel at the end.

Even fans of the original downbeat ending (finally restored to DVD) agree that it goes on way too long. The original consists of multiple Audrey II’s rampaging through the city, destroying property and gobbling up innocent civilians. It’s an extremely well done sequence; the model work is especially impressive. However, after a few minutes it becomes pretty redundant. Test audiences might have responded better had the ending been shortened; the original play is wonderfully efficient in regards to the ending, very little stage time passes between Audrey’s death and the plant’s taking over the world, it moves a fairly brisk pace.  Secondly, the visual of the Audrey II creeping slowly towards the audience trumps any effect that Hollywood could muster. 
It shouldn't have been too surprising to the filmmakers that the audience would have such an adverse reaction to this ending for many reasons:
1)      Rick Moranis-  The casting of Moranis completely changes the entire complexion of the musical, because quite frankly, he’s extremely likable. In the 1960 film and the musical, Seymour is not particularly sympathetic and is extremely grating at times.  However, Moranis injects a lot warmth and sincerity into his portrayal of Seymour that it’s impossible not to like him.  It’s completely baffling as to why Audrey would fall for the previous Seymours, but it’s extremely believable that she would fall for Moranis’ Seymour, despite his nerdy disposition. Seymour’s main motivation for helping the plant out is that he believes (wrongly) it is the only way he can get Audrey.  Moranis’ Seymour doesn’t really seem to want fame and fortune all that much, just happiness. In the musical number "Skid Row (Downtown)" Seymour sings about his longing to get out of Skid Row and hoping that luck will eventually come his way. 


2)      The Deaths – People who object to the happy ending often claim that it essentially allows for Seymour to get away with murder.  After all, he does feed two people to the plant, so he should have to answer for his crimes. Howard Ashman and Alan Menken were not only inspired by the original film when they wrote the musical, but the story of Faust as well.  Seymour essentially sells his soul to the devil (Audrey II) to get everything he wants and ends up losing everything in the process. It’s karma giving him a swift kick in the nuts.  Seymour in both the 1960 film and the musical never really show remorse for feeding people to the plant, but rather wallow in their new found fame.  However, in the film version it is totally apparent that Seymour is troubled by his fame and how he acquired it. More importantly, and the reason why audience members accepted the happy ending, is that Seymour is fairly passive when it comes to the actual murders. Orin dies of asphyxiation, while Seymour looks on stunned, not knowing exactly what to do.  Mr. Mushnik gets eaten, but is largely at fault for being dumb enough to stick his head in Audrey II’s opened jaws.  Not to mention neither of the two victims are sympathetic:
a) Orin is a sadist that beats up on the lovable Audrey, throughout the course of the film we see the abuse he has inflicted on her; at the beginning of the film she walks into work with a black eye. Later on, she has her arm in a sling. When asked why she doesn’t dump Orin. She replies, “That would make him angry. If he does this to me when he likes me, just imagine what he would do when he’s angry.”

 Not only does he abuse Audrey, but he gets off on inflicting pain on his patients and his nurse.  He’s extremely reckless in his practice, often getting high on nitrous oxide while operating.  In short, he’s a danger to practically everyone around him.

b) Mr. Mushnik witnesses Seymour chopping up Orin’s corpse and decides to blackmail Seymour with the information. Mr. Mushnik has no idea that plant needs to blood to survive and thinks Seymour murdered Orin to get Audrey.  Mushnik holds Seymour at gun point and makes him march upstairs, threatening to take him to the police. However, once they reach the front door Mushnik pauses and tells Seymour he will keep his mouth shut, provided that Seymour leaves town and teaches him how to take care of Audrey II.   
Mr. Mushnik backs into Audrey II, turns around and sees that the plants jaws are wide open. Seymour tries to warm him, but it’s too late as the plant gobbles up Mushnik, who obliging sticks his head inside Audrey II’s mouth, while asking, “What the hell is this?”


3)      Ellen Greene – I’m going to make a bold statement; Ellen Greene should have been given an Oscar nomination for her performance as Audrey, because she is essentially the heart of the film.  Her Audrey is simultaneously funny and heartbreaking at the same time; an extremely sweet, if somewhat ditzy woman that is overly hard on herself for mistakes she made in the past. At one point she tells Seymour she deserved a creep like Orin Scrivello, because she used to work at strip club (The Gutter) to make ends meet.  This is in complete contrast to the Audrey in the 1960 film, who is sweet and ditzy, but that’s about it. She doesn’t really have any ambitions and is content on the way things are.  Greene’s Audrey is a broken woman, who dreams of a better life, but doesn’t believe that it’s possible. It’s a wonderfully moving performance. It should be noted that Greene played Audrey in the original Off Broadway play, so her familiarity with the role helps a great deal.  



4)      The chemistry between Moranis and Greene is amazing. It’s easy to believe that both characters would be attracted to one another, despite their flaws. The highlight of the film is their rendition of “Suddenly Seymour.”  It’s a powerful scene, mainly because it’s the first time in the film that both characters are genuinely happy.  These are two characters that have been miserable for their entire lives, completely unaware that happiness was always staring them in the face;  Audrey doesn’t think she deserves a “nice” guy like Seymour, while Seymour doesn’t believe Audrey could ever love a poor nerd like him.  The “happy” ending is just as valid as the original downbeat ending, because it deals with a theme that is common in most narratives, redemption. Seymour redeems himself by not only destroying Audrey II at the end, but with his love for Audrey. After seeing Audrey get mistreated by Orin for a good portion of the film, it is wonderful to see a genuine smile on her.  The passionate kiss her and Seymour share at the end of “Suddenly Seymour” is probably one of the few times where I nearly found myself applauding a movie scene. The special effects in Little Shop of Horrors are impressive, but they take a backseat to Rick Moranis and Ellen Greene’s wonderful performances. The film would arguably still if it was just a regular romantic comedy about these two characters; the talking, man eating plant is just the icing on the cake. 


The odd thing about the 1986 Little Shop of Horrors is that twice that narrative is interrupted to make way for some random comedy. The first interruption occurs roughly twenty minutes into the film when Seymour goes on a radio show to talk about his weird plant. The host of show is named Wink and played by John Candy.  It’s a scene that could have easily lasted a couple of seconds, but goes on for a few minutes to make way for Candy’s comedy stylings; he spouts lots of nonsensical dialogue while making  funny faces. At one point he pretends to be gunned down by a jealous husband, while Seymour looks on befuddled. This is not a knock on John Candy, he's one of my favorite comedians, but he seems completely out of place in this movie. 
The other narrative interruption occurs midway through the film and centers on Orin Scrivello’s encounter with masochist Arthur Denton (Bill Murray). As noted before, Orin is a complete sadist and beams with delight when Denton says he needs a root canal. However, as the scene progresses Orin gets completely frustrated; not only is Denton not scared, but he actually enjoys the pain that is being inflicted on him, to the point of a near orgasm. Disgusted, Orin kicks Denton out of his office and decides to take his frustrations out on Seymour, who is waiting in a chair. Of course, this scene is directly lifted from the 1960 film, but with a few variations. In the 1960 film, it was Seymour operating on the patient, Wilbur Force, while posing as Dr.Farb so he wouldn’t draw suspicion to the murder he just committed. The Scrivello/Denton bit features two great comedians (Bill Murray/Steve Martin) at the height of their popularity, and while funny, it pales in comparison to the 1960 equivalent featuring Seymour/Wilbur. The Murray/Martin version kind of fizzles out towards the end, while the Haze/Nicholson ends on genuinely funny note: Wilbur with his back turned towards the camera thanks Seymour and says he never enjoyed himself quite so much.  He then turns around (towards the camera), revealing that he is missing nearly half his teeth; the product of Seymour’s handiwork. 

Part 4: Conclusion.
When I was younger I preferred the 1986 version of Little Shop of Horrors, but as time has progressed I find myself liking the original 1960 version more.  This is always a matter of taste as both them are extremely different films: the original was an extremely low budget horror film made over the course of a weekend for the sole purpose of making a quick buck, while the 1986 version was  big budgeted musical released during the Christmas Holiday.  The 1986 version is far more polished in its presentation and has wonderful special effects to boot.  Yet, part of the charm of the original film is in its cheapness. The remake was shot on a London soundstage and looks it, while the original was shot on location in Skid Row (California) which adds an air of authenticity to the proceedings.  The best thing about the original film is that it embraces its cheapness; it never makes an attempt to conceal its low budget, for instance in the background there is a sign that reads “LOTS PLANTS – CHEAP!”  In another scene a group of girls are looking to buy flowers for their float, and Mr. Mushnick tries to persuade them to buy from him, under the ruse that his flowers are special. The girls ask what is so special about them, to which Seymour replies, “They’re cheap!”

In his book Cult Movies, Danny Peary writes this about The Little Shop of Horrors:
Little Shop is in a way a takeoff on Jerry Lewis comedies, with Seymour Krelboin as the Lewis-like character with an IQ of seven, a good heart, a lousy personality, and work habits that drive his boss crazy.
This is a perfect reading of the original Little Shop, whether Corman and company intended it or not. Any one who has ever endured  a Jerry Lewis comedy would agree that Seymour is a lot like the characters Lewis portrayed.  A staple of most Lewis comedies is a scene in which his character delves into self pity and sad music plays on the soundtrack so the audience will feel sympathy for him. The Little Shop of Horrors has a similar scene like this, but it’s played strictly for laughs. At the beginning Seymour and Audrey have this exchange:
Seymour: Don’t waste your pity on me, Audrey. I’m not worth it.
Audrey: Who says you’re not?
Seymour: Everyone.
Audrey: Yeah, I know.


In the musical remake Seymour is an orphan that was taken out by Mushnik for the sole purpose of sweeping floors, scrubbing toilets, etc.  In the original Seymour is a loser that lives in a rundown apartment with his hypochondriac mother.  In one of the film’s funniest scenes, he takes Audrey home to have dinner with his mother, which consists of liver oil soup (“It’s wonderful for the colon,” insists Seymour’s mom).  Later on in the meal Audrey, Seymour, and Winifred have the following conversation:

Winifred: If you’re going to be married, you got to be a good cook.
Audrey: You could teach me.
Winifred: You thinking of getting married?
Audrey:  Well, he hasn’t asked me yet!
Winifred: Who hasn’t?
Audrey: Seymour.
Winifred: Seymour’s too young to get married. Look here, a boy’s got to go out and play around a little bit. Go out on the making! Have a ball!
Seymour: Gee ma! I don’t want to have a ball. I want to be with Audrey.
Winifred:  No, no Seymour! You promised you wouldn’t get married until you bought me an iron lung.
Seymour: But you’ve been breathing for years, ma!
Winifred: Well, it aint easy. It aint easy, son.


Later on Winifred warns Seymour that Audrey’s only after his money. Seymour counters with, “I don’t have money.” She then advises Seymour to never trust a girl who’s too healthy. Seymour tries to win her approval by saying that Audrey has a cold, but to no avail.  
The 1986 remake gets a lot of mileage out of the likability of Moranis and Greene, but it lacks the spontaneity and creativity of the 1960 film. The original film is populated with colorful supporting characters, from Mr. Shiva, whose family keeps dropping off like flies, to Burson Fouch who eats flowers for dinner, “I like to eat at these out of the way places.”
Mel Welles steals the show with his hilarious performance as Gravis Mushnick. In the musical, Mr. Mushnik is more or less a stern father figure to Seymour, but in the original he is a condescending employer trying to keep his sanity as the world crumbles around him. His two employees are completely incompetent, while his business is being driven into the ground. He has a thick, exaggerated Yiddish accent and speaks in broken English. Mushnick has the funniest lines in the film; my favorite being, “Don’t work me about money. I’ve got to get drunk, now!”
Mushnick has never experienced any form of success and is conflicted when business starts booming; he loves the money, but is disgusted by how he's acquired it. Surprisingly, even though Mushnick has blood on his hands (he feeds the thief to Audrey Junior), he never pays for his crime. In the end Mushnick is still standing, while Seymour gets his just comeuppance. In the 1986 version, Mushnik’s role is greatly reduced, he is fairly prevalent in the first half hour, but disappears for a long stretch of screen time. In the musical play he had a number with Seymour called, “Mushnik and Son,” in which he offers to adopt Seymour and make him a full partner in the business (thus securing his share of the profit). This number got cut out of the film adaptation to make room for some unrelated comedy (John Candy, Bill Murray). It's a shame, because it's a fairly pivotal moment in the development of Mr. Mushnik. 
I always preferred Mushnick in the original; every time he hears the cash register ring, his guilt lessens.  
Audrey II (wonderfully  voiced by Levi Stubbs) is a technical marvel, where as Audrey Junior looks like a cheap paper mache puppet. In the original Audrey Junior is like bratty child that whines when he doesn't get his way, whereas Audrey II is very cunning, manipulative villain; he offers Seymour the world and seemingly delivers, but everything comes at a price. I never thought I would agree with Leonard Maltin on anything, put I think he makes a good point when he writes, "But when Audrey II, the plant, turns really mean and monstrous, with super-duper special effects, the fun drains away." I find the first hour of Little Shop of Horrors nearly flawless (with the exception of the John Candy scene) flawless in it's execution. The audience genuinely likes the characters, the musical numbers are wonderful, and there are a lot of laughs, but after the "Suddenly Seymour" number it kind of stumbles; the effects are excellent, but often they overwhelm the story.  The Corman version, while extremely cheap, manages to maintain it's wonderfully goofy tone; it certainly help that it's only 72 minutes long. There's always something there to catch your interest or make you laugh, while the last half hour of the remake feels forced, often rush, largely because all the action is relegated to the end. The first hour is a wonderful character study on two lonely people who find one another, the last half hour is a special effects spectacle. Thankfully, Moranis and Greene are around to inject warmth and humor to the proceedings, because without them it would be unbearable.  

 Credits:
The Little Shop of Horrors (1960)
Cast: Seymour (Jonathan Haze), Audrey (Jackie Joseph), Mr. Mushnick (Mel Welles), Burson Fouch (Dick Miller), Wilbur Force (Jack Nicholson), Winifred Krelboin (Myrtle Vail), Mrs. Shiva (Leola Wendorff), Audrey Junior (Charles B. Griffith – voice).
Director: Roger Corman
Screenplay: Charles B. Griffith
Running Time: 72 min.

Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Cast: Seymour (Rick Moranis) Audrey (Ellen Greene), Mr. Mushnik (Vincent Gardenia), Orin Scrivello (Steve Martin), Arthur Denton (Bill Murray), Patrick Martin (James Belushi), Chiffon (Tisha Campbell), Crystal (Tichina Arnold), Ronette (Michelle Weeks), Audrey II (Levi Stubbs –voice), Wink Wilkinson (John Candy), First Customer (Christopher Guest).
Director: Frank Oz
Screenplay: Howard Ashman
Running Time: 94 min.

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