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| by Cochaman Peef with additional writing by John Mundazio | ||
| Paramount's ‘Sweeney Todd’— Musical Darkness With Pie. | ||
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It should be no surprise
that this material immediately lends itself to adaptation by director
Tim Burton, but what is surprising is how well Burton handles it,
leading to— ironically enough— his most lively effort in a good many
years. With mostly capable but sometimes outstanding performances from
his cast, Burton has crafted a musical darker and more misanthropic than
anything else he's done, which is indeed a surprise, considering his
oeuvre. The story follows the travails of Sweeney Todd (Johnny Depp),
formerly Benjamin Barker, a man with a beautiful wife and baby daughter
who is sentenced to life in exile by the covetous Judge Turpin (Alan
Rickman). He is shipped away, the judge pursues his wife, and when Todd
returns to London, he finds his wife has been driven to suicide by the
judge, and his daughter Johanna (Jayne Wisener) is, whether she likes it
or not, the judge's intended. There is no question that
in a Burton film the visual style is as important as any cast member,
and Burton's trademark darkness is here used to successful effect,
though one gets the feeling that this depiction of Victorian London is
one Burton could have done in his sleep. However, this is far more
detailed than, say, his gothic New England town in "Sleepy Hollow," or
Gotham City in "Batman." It's also slightly more based in realism than
most of his output, though a few things have some distinctly Burton-esque
touches— the odd angles in Todd's barber shop, for example, or Mrs.
Lovett's pie oven. The younger crowd looking forward to a gothic musical
starring their favorite movie star may be surprised to find the bitter,
hate-filled center of Burton's film. "Sweeney Todd" is an extremely
misanthropic film; as Todd himself sings, "We all deserve to die/ Even
you, Mrs. Lovett/ Even I." Accordingly, very few people find redemption
by the film's end; most everyone gets exactly what they deserve.
UB |
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Despite a number of short-term
unwarranted arrests for a virtual plethora of misdemeanors,
which, for some odd reason, remain "classified", Cochaman Peef
has continued to let his beloved hemp play a substantial role in
his ever-waning life. Whether he’s smoking from a hand-blown
glass pipe while studying Eastern religion and Woody Harrelson
philosophy, or just smoking Jamaican sticks and watching Kung-Fu
with David Carradine on DVD [he claims to know Carradine
personally, a fact we've yet to dispute]. |
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As
usual, Johnny Depp (Barker) is brilliant as the main character,
wearing more expressions on his powder-pale face than any other man
could possibly muster. He is darling as a charming husband and father,
then equally as effective as a violent monster. Alan Rickman is also
notably good as his rival, Judge Turpin. Rounding out the main cast is
the always-convincingly-creepy Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett, a
terrible pie maker who falls in love with Todd and becomes his key
accomplice in murder. If we unveil the allegory, we are left with this:
terrible, unforgivable things happen to a good, decent person, robbing
him of his faith in all of mankind. As a result, he retreats to a place
so dark that he loses every trace of the person he once was, allowing
negativity to thrive in its absence. That darkness arrives in the form
of a typical jealous woman who will go to great lengths to conceal truth
and protect her own interests. Only when it's too late will he realize
that she has betrayed him and that he could've regained all that he
lost— had be been open to just behavior. Of course, because it's Burton,
this is all masked in dark eyeliner and Einstein hair, but the core of
the message remains clear. And it is delivered in a charming, if not
slapstick, bloody way. 
Were
it not for the obvious distractions like Sacha Baron Cohen (as a
rather cartoon-ish con artist) and a wimpy sailor (Jamie Campbell
Bower), this would've been practically flawless. But then again, no one
can EVER be expected to make two Edward Scissorhands in just one career.
Even with the same truly brilliant actor. Parents need to know that this
feature film version of renowned writer Stephen Sondheim's Tony-winning
1979 Broadway show isn't as family friendly as most musicals (and star
Johnny Depp definitely isn't in Pirates of the Caribbean mode). In fact,
there's enough blood in this very dark story to rival a slasher flick.
There are dozens of throat slittings, cannibalism (via pies made out of
human meat), and— it can't be said often enough— pints and pints of
blood spattered just about everywhere. And if that's not enough, a woman
is raped, a girl is wrongfully committed to an institution, and a young
boy drinks gin, helps dupe people, and murders someone. "Sweeney Todd:
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" is a dark musical that unsparingly
depicts the murder and subsequent cannibalism of many, many human beings
while its heroes— and I use that term in the loosest possible way— break
into song, relishing the spraying blood, the cracking of bones and the
last gasps of their victims. 
Todd
is an insane man driven completely by revenge, and his thoughts are
consumed by his drive to murder the judge and his faithful assistant,
Beadle Bamford (Timothy Spall). To do so, he sets up a barber shop above
the shop of Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter); she is frustrated
because her meat pie shop is unsuccessful (the price of meat being what
it is). Mrs. Lovett, blinded by her love for Todd, helps him formulate a
plan to devise his revenge on the judge and, eventually, on the corrupt
society at large— all the while, her business mysteriously booms. Let me
just say that throats are cut, blood flows, and Mrs. Lovett's meat pies
become very popular all of a sudden. Adapted from the successful
Broadway musical by Stephen Sondheim, "Sweeney Todd" has evidently been
faithfully adapted to the screen by Burton and screenwriter John Logan.
I have the virtue of not being particularly familiar with the original
show, though I had at some point previous heard the soundtrack, and was
familiar enough to recognize a few omissions, at which the theatre fans
at my screening grumbled a bit. But all things considered, the film is
streamlined, well-paced and effective at its present length at just
under two hours. So whatever was omitted was done so with no detriment
to the film. What they have done, objectively speaking, is streamline
"Sweeney Todd" from a large satire and criticism of a corrupt society to
a simple, gory tale of revenge. This doesn't make the story any worse,
just a tad bit different. Burton's film flirts with social criticism at
times, but one major omission is the presence of a full chorus during
any of the songs; though in the stage production, the residents of Fleet
Street are important, the film limits the focus to a few characters, who
then comment occasionally on the depravity they observe. 
This
is interesting when one considers Burton's past work, featuring
characters who find themselves removed from everyone else; Sweeney Todd
is as much an outsider as, say, Edward Scissorhands, an observer
completely apart from society at large. But there is really no question
that Sweeney Todd is considerably more sadistic and malicious. As the
wild-haired monomaniac Todd, Depp conveys the necessary rage and
madness, though the character does not grow insane; one gets the
impression he is all too glad to start killing once the opportunity
arises and is ready to start as soon as he gets off the boat. And, to
relieve those who were unsure, Depp handles the musical numbers with
considerable skill and aplomb, his rock-stylized vocals a good fit for
Sondheim's music. This is not to say that the rest of the cast is
successful vocally; Carter conveys Mrs. Lovett's deep loneliness and
vulnerability with great success, but it would help, of course, if she
were a stronger singer. She's not bad, though she does pale in
comparison to a few vocalists in the supporting cast. Rickman is fine,
Spall is fine, but the show is almost stolen by Sacha Baron Cohen in a
very flashy, entertaining small role as a rival barber. 
