It doesn't take much to get me excited for Little Shop of Horrors. Infectiously catchy book and score by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, crazy sci-fi tale about ethical slippery slopes and the dangers of botany, Motown girl group–inspired trio as Greek chorus — is it all right if I bring my giant foam finger to wave? Yet for its clarity of vision as well as its pure excitement and fun, this production at the Performance Network stands out as a phenomenal theatrical experience.

The show is best known for the character of Audrey II, the strange and unusual plant that brings fame to a struggling Skid Row flower shop and to the young man who cultivates it, but at a steep price: the fresh human blood on which it feeds. Audiences are used to fantastic feats of puppetry making up Audrey II, often as big as a green Jabba the Hutt, backed by a very specific-sounding male voice over. To deviate from the long-accepted formula would require nothing short of awesomeness in execution to justify the choice, and this is just what director Carla Milarch has done. I won't spoil her extreme and provocative departure here other than to say it works without question, especially in the atmosphere of this production.

With a cast as small as eight, Little Shop only benefits from an intimate staging, which can capitalize on its closeness by indulging in nuances of performance that would be lost in bigger venues. Here, the actors' voices require only the slightest microphone amplification; Ken Faulk's sound design and R. MacKenzie Lewis's musical direction and arrangement combine to ensure the universally strong singing is heard just enough over the flawless three-piece band, hidden in plain sight onstage. In one of my favorite moments, the high-tech assist allowed Network newcomer Courtney Myers to present a heart-wrenchingly delicate rendition of "Somewhere That's Green." As the romantic core of the show, Myers and Jason Richards were simply born to play Audrey and Seymour, comfortably blending humor with real desperation from the sad lives and bleak futures they'll do anything to escape. Richards commands the stage in his many moments alone and with Audrey II (the smoothly sinister Naz Edwards); as the plant grows and its hunger correspondingly increases, Seymour's conflicting reluctance and resolve are believable as he attempts to justify his exterminations. B.J. Love's florist, Mr. Mushnik, is curmudgeonly without being a caricature, and his "Mushnik & Son" with Richards is the pinnacle of Phil Simmons's playful choreography. The cheeky, stoop-dwelling onlookers Chiffon (Sharon L. Brooks), Crystal (Sharriese Hamilton), and Ronnette (Diviin Huff) function just as well as individuals within the action as a single unit providing supplemental commentary in three-part harmony. Aaron T. Moore is kept busy playing every other role, but his finest is the madly sadist dentist in all his gyrating, menacing glory.

Set, costume, and properties designer Mokina Essen creates an atmosphere well-suited to the economic and moral wasteland that is Skid Row. Her presentation of both exterior and interior of the shop is accomplished by use of walls that slide and fold in unexpected ways; even the little glitches lent a homemade feel that extended the endearingly little-but-fierce sense of the production. The several versions of Audrey II have a unique look that's fun to watch as it grows. Both Essen's costumes and Justin Lang's lighting played on aggressive use of the color green, simultaneously eerie and prophetic.

This production of Little Shop excels for mirroring the story of a sad sack's improbable success, with relatively unassuming production values combining with careful direction and stellar performances to form a powerhouse show. It would be hard to have more fun than I did in the show's two hours, and I've been carrying that spirit around for days now, in the form of the songs playing on loop in my head. This raw staying power of the production is testament to its merit (or, I secretly fear, a sign that the bloodthirsty plants of the world have indeed won).