74 new york | september 16–29, 2019
TheCULTUREPAGES
Thepuppetinquestionrepresentsthe
largest form of Audrey II, a sassy carnivo-
rous horticultural oddity that convinces Sey-
mour, an awkward flower-shop assistant, to
commit murder in the pursuit of fame, for-
tune, and a suburban life with the original
Audrey, a human who works with him. The
day I visit, Groff, playing the misfit Seymour
(despite good looks that actor Christian
Borle, who plays the maniacal dentist, Orin,
describes as “scrumptious”), and his cast-
mates are climbing inside Audrey II one by
one, figuring out how each of them will die.
Wearing a hat from Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s
“On the Run II” tour, Groff jumps inside
wielding a floppy machete, which is so un-
aerodynamic it keeps getting stuck in
Audrey II’s lips. Groff suggests a real
machete prop would be sturdier, and they
try substituting an umbrella, which flies out
more cleanly. Michael Mayer, the director,
says with satisfaction, “It’s a belch!”
Staging this revival of Little Shop is “ille-
gal fun,” as Groff puts it. The original ran
from 1982 to 1987 but never transferred to
Broadway, at the insistence of writer-lyricist
Howard Ashman, who wanted to preserve
the show’s off-kilter spirit in a smaller space.
Ashman and composer Alan Menken
would go on to fill the Disney Renaissance—
which consisted of films like The Little Mer-
maid and Beauty and the Beast—with the
Marie’s Crisis–ready melodies and queer
subversions you can already hear in Little
Shop (Ashman died of aids-related compli-
cations in 1991). Despite a Broadway stag-
ing that kicked off in 2003, this version is
stayingputattheWestsideTheatreOff
Broadway in hopes of preserving the quirky
spirit of the original. There’s a lot of laughter
in rehearsal as well as dress codes like a
“kimono Wednesday,” which Mayer
enforces by handing me a spare kimono
when I drop in that day.
I can’t imagine anyone who is consistently
involved in or adjacent to homicide havingabettertime.Inadditiontoplayingamur-
derouslyniceguyinLittleShop,Groffstars
inNetflix’sDavidFincher–produceddrama
Mindhunter,playinganFBIagentwho
interviewsserialkillers;theshowisbasedon
therealworkofJohnDouglas,whowasone
ofthefirstcriminalprofilers.Considering
he’snobigfanoftruecrime,Groffissome-
whatconfusedabouthowhebecamea
posterboyforgoreandmutilation,though
he’senjoyingthetextsfromfriendswho
pointoutthatevenwhenhedoesmusical
comedy,there’sadarkedgeinvolved.Afew
daysafterwemeetinPhiladelphia,we’re
talkingoverbreakfastatthecozyGreyDogin Chelsea, where he insists on paying for
everything, picking up all the water and
utensils, and getting up from the table to
refill my coffee cup when it’s empty.
Groff signed up to star in Little Shop this
spring after careful consideration, by which
I mean he got the offer and then listened to
the original cast recording on repeat for a
whole weekend. He’d never played Seymour
before, unlike the majority of white male
theater actors, but he had positive memories
of seeing the first performance of the 2003
Broadway version just after high school,
when he was rehearsing the role of Rolf in a
non-Equity tour of The Sound of Music.
“I wanted to make sure that I’m bleeding for
it eight times a week,” he says, which is his
measure for doing musicals; he wants to
make sure he won’t get bored with the mate-
rial. Even now, when I assume he might
want a break from it during rehearsals, Groff
still has the album on repeat. “I never went
to college, and I’m not educated, really, so
I couldn’t say, like, intellectually why that is,”
he says. “When I listened to it, it shot
through my heart.”
There’s a clue, however, in the way he
remembers obsessing over the film version
of the show as a seventh-grader, standing in
his kitchen with the song “Skid Row” on
repeat—specifically when Seymour sings,
“Someone show me a way to get outta here.”
It was an appealing message to a closeted
kid whom Groff describes as just “a sweaty,
uncomfortable person with a secret that was
so deep-rooted I wasn’t even flirting with the
idea of being myself.” With a little distance
fromthatversionofhimself(thechildofa
phys-edteacherandahorsetrainer,growing
upinLancaster,Pennsylvania,andocca-
sionallyhavingtocleanstablesontheweek-
ends),Groffrecallsthekindsoftellsthat
seemobviousinretrospect,like,say,listen-
ingto“SkidRow”onrepeat.Ordeveloping
anobsessionwithILoveLucy,whichhestill
watchesbeforegoingtobed.Ordancing
alongtotheDonnaReed’sDinnerParty
albumwhenhisparentsweren’thome.
There’sasimilarlonginginLittleShop,
whichhasthequeerestkindofperspective
onitscentralcouple,asAudreyandSey-
mourimagineanunreachable,heteronor-
mativelifeawayfromskidrowandwhere
shelooks“likeDonnaReed.”
Ifthere’samurderouskinshipbetween
LittleShopandMindhunter,itextendsto
theshows’sharedskepticismaboutthat
white-picket-fence-stylenormalcy.Holden,
Groff’sprofilercharacter,isacardboard
cutoutofamanwithagirlfriendwhointro-
duceshimto1970s-stylesexualliberation,
butheisultimatelymorefascinatedwith
thedeviancyofthekillershe’sinterviewing.
Toplayhim,Groffshutsdownhischarisma,Within minutes of my meeting Jonathan Groff,
he asks if I would like a slice of cherry pie, and then, only a short time later,
if I would like to be eaten by a giant plant. The first I readily accept because
Groff and the rest of the cast of Little Shop of Horrors have thoroughly
analyzed the desserts they picked up for a bus ride down from New York
to the suburban Philadelphia puppet studio where they’re rehearsing for
the day, and they’ve all concluded it’s the best option. The idea of being
eaten by a plant seems a little less palatable, considering the contortions
involved in entering the hippopotamus-esque maw of the man-eating
Audrey II, which is operated by several puppeteers, and because I’m not
sure if Groff is making a serious offer. I learn quickly that he is always offer-
ing you things, and those offers are always serious.
PREVIOUSPAGE:GROOMINGBYMELISSADEZARATEATTHEWALLGROUP“I was so
compartmentalized,
singing about
sex but then not
talking about it.”