Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Tim Burton is so well known for his macabre takes on everything from animation (“The Nightmare Before Christmas” and “Corpse Bride”), comic books (“Batman” and “Batman Returns”), and fantasy (“Beetlejuice” and “Edward Scissorhands”) that you don’t really realize that he hasn’t made a live-action movie this deliciously dark since his superb 1999 adaptation of “Sleepy Hollow.” Behind him- for now- are the burdens of a franchise reboot (“Planet of the Apes”), a personal tale of fathers and sons (“Big Fish”), and a fresh take on a family classic (“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”) as he turns his filmmaking powers to the strains of the Broadway musical, as well as he returns to the Gothic storytelling we’ve come to associate with him, working from a keen screenplay by John Logan (“Gladiator,” “The Aviator”) to bring Stephen Sondheim’s classic musical to life onscreen. In a year of musicals both popular (“Hairspray”) and divisive (“Across the Universe”), Burton aims for both extremes, and makes his most riveting film since “Hollow.”
Along for the ride are his onscreen alter ego (Johnny Depp, now in his sixth collaboration with the director) and his wife (Helena Bonham Carter, who’s been in every film since they first met on “Apes”) as he gives attention front and center to Sondheim’s phenomenal score and libretto in telling the story of Sweeney Todd (Depp), a barber who was put in prison on a trumped-up charge by the corrupt Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman in one of his finest performances onscreen, and one of his best villains), who lusts after his wife. Fifteen years in prison have done much to change Sweeney (originally Benjamin Barker), and have left him a hardened man as he returns to London. The news of his wife poisoning herself, and Turpin adopting his now-grown daughter Johanna (Jayne Wisener) from his former landlady/pie maker Mrs. Lovett (Bonham Carter) do nothing but increase his bloodlust for revenge. It’s the news of Turpin’s intention to marry Johanna that sends Todd over the edge, slitting the throats of his customers, and sending the corpses down to Mrs. Lovett’s oven so that she can make meatpies of the remains.
What the film lacks in emotional depth, as it is very much a simple revenge tale, it makes up for in style and form. Sondheim’s tale brings out the twisted best in Burton’s imagination, as the iconoclastic filmmaker paints a richly dark visual and emotional palette through the cinematography of Darius Wolski (“The Crow,” “Pirates of the Caribbean”), who lights the stylized production design by Dante Ferretti (“The Aviator,” “Gangs of New York”) and costumes of Colleen Atwood (a long-time Burton collaborator) with evocative moods that define character and increase drama (look for Oscar nominations for all). All add to the startling effectiveness of not just the film in general but the musical (and violent) set pieces, which are cut by Chris Lebenzon with unrelenting brutality. But Burton’s “Todd” isn’t the “Saving Private Ryan” of musicals- the violence is imaginative in the same way it was in not just Burton’s “Sleepy Hollow” but Sam Raimi’s “Evil Dead II,” which goes with the darkly comic tone of the story.
And the performances also follow in Sondheim’s subversive footsteps (it should be noted, however briefly, the devious qualities in Sondheim’s score that recall the work of Burton’s long-time collaborator Danny Elfman, who had nothing to do with the film, but one senses the influence Sondheim might have had on the composer, a master in his own right). None of these actors are known for their singing chops (have any of them actually sung before?), but as a friend of mine and I were discussing, what the performances lack in theatrical singing chops they pay back (in spades) in nuance of performance, the little touches that help define character and find emotional truths. Of particular note is Jamie Campbell Bower as Anthony, a young man who becomes smitten with the sheltered Johanna- he invests the ballad “Johanna” with a deep well of young love that digs deep into Sondheim’s music, although other standouts in the supporting cast include Laura Michelle Kelly as a homeless woman who carries with her dark secrets, Ed Sanders as young Toby, whom Todd and Lovett take under their wing at the pie shop without letting them in on the secret of their process, Timothy Spall as Turpin’s enforcer and protector, and of course “Borat’s” Sacha Baron Cohen as rival Pirelli, who endangers himself and Todd’s intentions by recognizing him. It’s a brief role, but an indispensable one, and Cohen delivers it with the same talent for low humor he brought to “Borat.”
Rickman brings out the hidden romantic in the amoral Turpin in his lovely rendition of “Pretty Women” with Depp, although it’s the character’s wickedness you’ll no doubt remember (reminding you just how good he is at playing bad in case you forgot his Hans Gruber from “Die Hard)- in a just world, he’d be a spoiler in the Supporting Actor race. Bonham Carter- who’s now played many a different and unusual characters for her director partner the past six years- goes beyond the one-note villainy of her brief role in “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” to fill this dark hearted landlady, beat down after too-many years of substandard living (and a natural lack of talent and disregard for health code standards when it comes to pie making), with a palpable sense of love towards Todd only to watch it be unreciprocated by Sweeney, who seeks only revenge.
But “Sweeney Todd” wouldn’t work without Depp- at least, Burton’s wouldn’t. I’ve discussed before (as others have) about Depp representing Burton onscreen in their many collaborations together (most especially in “Ed Wood,” “Edward Scissorhands,” and probably “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” as well), and though it implies something less-than-flattering to mention here, it nonetheless holds true. Whether his Todd is singing about the corrupt stench of London in the film’s opening, his wife’s beauty, or how his arms are now complete now that he has his collection of razors back (kept in the floorboards by Lovett after so many years), Depp is astonishing at revealing the romantic underneath the dark heart of Sondheim’s sociopath. And the untrained singer brings Sondheim’s lyrics to life, risking embarrassment to shine light of the development of a madman, relish in the diabolical fun within the character, and mourn- with us- his moral and emotional downfall by the story’s conclusion, which brings the tragedy full-circle in ways both unmissable and unforgettable, a tribute to the three distinctive artists who collaborated to tell a story wrought with spine-tingling chills and chillingly dark thrills. You don’t want to miss this one.
