The problem with having this film be
reviewed by someone like me – long a fan of Sweeney Todd on stage,
as well as most films of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp – is that I am
foreordained to have a strong reaction to it. I'll either hate the
film for reasons related to its differences from the stage play, or
I'll love it and go on and on about how great it is, gushing as
strongly as the slit neck of one of Mr. Todd's victims.
Well, I suppose you should run for
cover, because gush I will. This film is a wonderful adaptation of
the stage musical to the silver screen. It carries over the primary
strengths of the play – its unique story and characters, its dark
and clever humor, and of course Stephen Sondheim's amazing music –
but fits them to the form of a film.
For those unfamiliar with it, the story
is set in mid-19th century London. Fifteen years earlier,
unscrupulous Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) used trumped-up charges to
unjustly sentence a young barber named Benjamin Barker (Johnny Depp)
to a life of hard labor. He did this so he could seduce/defile the
barber's beautiful and virtuous wife, after whom he lusted. The film
begins as an embittered and vengeful Barker returns to London under
the assumed name of Sweeney Todd to learn the fate of his wife Lucy
and daughter Joanna, and to seek revenge against Judge Turpin. To
his horror, he learns from Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter) – who
recognizes him as the young barber on whom she had a crush all those
years ago – that his wife ended up taking poison as a result of
what happened, and that his daughter has ever since lived as the ward
of the corrupt lech, Turpin! Driven toward madness by the knowledge,
Barker/Todd determines that his revenge lies at the intersection of
his barber's razor and Turpin's throat. But until he can bring that
about, he will content himself to "practice" his revenge on
miscellaneous tonsorial patrons that won't be missed. And the
"eminently practical" Mrs. Lovett – who herself has more
than one screw loose – decides she may as well use the results of
Mr. Todd's "hobby" as fodder for her meat pie business,
what with the price of more "traditional" meat being what
it is…
Any new version of the story will
necessarily be compared against the 1982 stage version starring
George Hearn and Angela Lansbury, which has been shown on TV for
decades and is, happily, available on DVD. (Though I believe the
play actually started in 1979 on Broadway, I tend to think of this
1982 version as “the original stage version”.) I will always
remember and love the powerful voice and wrathful stage presence of
Hearn's Mr. Todd, as well the quirky motherliness of Lansbury's Mrs.
Lovett.
But now I can also savor Depp's and
Bonham Carter's portrayals of these memorable characters. (As well
as Alan Rickman's Judge Turpin.) For me, Depp adds a touch more
vulnerability to Todd's wrathfulness, as well as a hint more quiet
menace. He seems slightly less – I'm not sure what word to use –
aristocratic (?) than did Hearn, and so more indentifiable as an
average man whose soul has been twisted by horrendous circumstances.
(Beyond the inevitable – and absolutely appropriate – differences
between separate actors' interpretations, I imagine that this is at
least partially due to the variant nature of movies and plays,
especially when it comes to musicals. The cinematic format, with its
moveable camera, close-ups, and so forth, can sometimes allow a
degree of intimacy with the characters which is not so readily
afforded by the theatrical format. Even in the midst of a song, for
example, the camera can zoom in to reveal the nuance in an actor's
expression. In theatre, on the other hand, a certain broadness seems
de rigueur, and even a whisper must be delivered with booming
resonance to reach the back row.)
Bonham Carter's Mrs. Lovett offers a
worthy foil to Depp's Mr. Todd. Apparently half-nuts more by nature
than circumstances, this widow offers a bizarre confluence of
near-wholesomeness and amoral practicality. The former shows through
with her oddly off-kilter desire for a husband and family, and the
latter with her willingness to go along with murder – and turn much
of London into unwitting cannibals – because of her need to revive
her failing business (and to please the "beautiful" Mr.
Todd, on whom she casts a needful eye).
As the lecherous Judge Turpin, Alan
Rickman ably combines sanctimony and moral corruption. And Timothy
Spall's Beadle Bamford is suitably smarmy and unctuous. The rest of
the supporting cast is generally fine, if not particularly memorable.
(Though I'm sure Sacha Baron Cohen's portrayal of the barber/con man
Pirelli will be remembered fondly by many.)
Given that this is a musical, the
quality of the singing must maintain at least a certain level. And I
am pleased to say that it does. I don't think anyone will try to
claim that Depp's voice is as powerful as George Hearn's, but it is
surprisingly rich and fully sufficient to the task. (And I
particularly like the touch of a cockney accent he effects at certain
points.) Similarly, Bonham Carter and Rickman manage to hold their
notes adequately while staying in character. The lower-level
supporting characters – notably Joanna and her sailor suitor –
may be the strongest singers of the lot, and I would hazard a guess
that they may have had the most extensive musical training. But I
must confess that I found Joanna's birdlike voice a tad annoying.
The look of the film is distinctive and
evocative. Shades of gray and grayish blue dominate Burton's color
pallete, as if the world were in a perpetual state of meloncholy or
despair. (Notable exceptions include the warm golden hues of Todd's
flashback to his happy life with his wife, and the deliberately
overexposed, almost acidic, look during Mrs. Lovett's unbalanced
fantasy of a vacation "by the beautiful sea".) The
costumes and sets (including what I imagine are computer graphics of
the cityscape) emphasize the grit and grime of mid-19th century
London. And the makeup for Depp and Bonham Carter, in particular,
emphasizes an unhealthy pallor in the face and a sunkenness in the
eyes, as if to hint at the wounded souls inside. (This might also be
a small homage to the televised stage play, where this type of makeup
was in strong evidence.)
With regard to the inevitable blood:
We certainly see enough of it in this film. But all considered, I
was somewhat pleasantly surprised that we didin’t see more. Burton
could have taken the “too much is never enough” tack so prevalent
in a lot of movies, and gone completely over the top. But instead,
he presents us with enough blood to be affecting without distracting
from the performances.
The story as presented in the film hews
closely to that of the stage production, but with a few adjustments
as to how it is presented. Some of the changes, I imagine, are made
for pacing, while others are necessary to accommodate the different
conventions of stage and screen. An example of the former might be
the dropping of the sequence wherein Mr. Todd trains the sailor in
what he’ll need to know to infiltrate the asylum. An example of
the latter is the dropping of the final “Ballad Of Sweeney Todd”
song, sung by the entire cast, immediately before the final curtain
falls. (Such a song absolutely works in theatre. But it really has
no good equivalent in film, where an actual stage is not present.)
Given its dark and bloody subject
matter, this film will never be marketed as a “feel-good hit” of
any season. But given how well it works in terms of its cathartic
release, its dark humor, and its engaging music, it almost could be.
And that says a lot right there.
Note: This review is based on a “sneak
peak” preview. Certain changes may have been incorporated by the
time of full theatrical release.
Rated R for graphic bloody violence.
This film opens Dec 21st.