Movie Review: Sweeney Todd

Verdict: The best movie adaptation of a stage musical in recent years.

My Meandering Monologue:
Stephen Sondheim is easily the spark plug that reignited Broadway to its former glory. His musicals, even so, are not as massively popular as the British imports (mainly by Cameron Mackintosh and Lloyd Webber, who flushed the stages of New York, Los Angeles and Chicago with megamusicals that went on forever).

He is the rare composer/lyricist, with both talents feeding off each other. That is why Sondheim's music is always organic - twisting and turning and teasing along familiar thematic grooves, accommodating his sardonic and cynical lyrics. Sit through a Sondheim musical and you will be hard-pressed to recall a tune. That's because he eschews musical structures, and each line is always delightfully different yet reminiscently similar. Stephen Schwartz and Maury Yeston too try to wear both hats, but their heads are rather small for two. Only Sondheim, in my opinion, is able to do it with such ingenuity.

That being said, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street has always been my favourite Sondheim musical. Into The Woods is a close second. But A Little Night Music, Company and Assassins are quite a chore to listen to.

As far as big screen adaptations go, The Phantom of the Opera left a bitter taste in my mouth, kinda like after watching chubby porn: it's interesting, but it ain't gonna get the audience going. Hairspray was fun. Rent was a shadow of its stage self. But Sweeney Todd seems to have exploited the movie medium to its fullest potential.

Tim Burton's perpetually bleak and grey Victorian England sits in very well with our two stars, Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett (a reunion of The Corpse Bride's protagonists), with their double-black eye bags and dour clothes. Tim Burton clipped some songs and scenes, but in the process managed to enhance the storyline. The major casualties of the cuts: Anthony and Johanna lost a few melodic numbers, and Judge Turpin his 'Mea Culpa' lust-filled prayer. Yet I did not miss them in this version.

Johnny Depp is an excellent actor. His characterizition, right down to his idiosyncratic movements, is well-studied and more importantly very believeable. To be able to win our sympathy endears Sweeney Todd to us. We feel him.

Helena Bonham Carter, while much younger than the original Angela Lansbury, and shapelier, as Mrs. Lovett lends her character a breathy raspy voice - that would not have worked on stage - that is so deliciously rendered onto the silver screen.

The two young lovers, Johanna and Anthony, were obviously not chosen for their beauty, or their voices. Just like Tim Burton to pick Victorian-looking waifs (the kind that stare out of old black-and-white photographs and send a shiver down your spine), androgynous, malnutritioned and pale.

The Beadle is superbly cast - oil, schmuck and all. Judge Turpin (if it weren't for Annie pointing out that he's Snape, I would have not known) is a terror to behold - voice, look and poise. Brr... Senor Pirelli is a hoot (Borat, anyone?), but the lad Toby looks a bit too camera-conscious for my liking.

Tim Burton harnessed the proximity of the camera to the characters to very good use. The intimacy affords us low whispers, and muted expressions that would have been all but impossible on stage. Effectively utilized, the movie brought the characters closer to us. His treatment of the off-song 'By The Sea' is hilarious - a respite from the bloodbath that awaits us all.

In the end, Sondheim is triumphant. His lyrics ('pumping pussies into pies', 'politicians are so oily, you'd need a doily' and 'ladies seem to like it - flies do too!') and music seamlessly blend into a heady intoxicating ride. And the score now stands Sondheim 1 - Lloyd Webber 0. Sorry, Andrew.