Sweeney Todd (R) ***1/2
By Rene Rodriguez
The wait for a good Tim Burton movie is finally over. With Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, his sinister, malevolent film adaptation of the stalwart Stephen Sondheim musical, Burton has found a vehicle sturdy enough to indulge every facet of his imagination: His great visual flair, his sense of whimsy and humor, his fondness for horror and his love of music.
Too many of Burton’s recent films (Planet of the Apes, Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hollow) lacked a narrative strong enough to withstand Burton’s approach, winding up as beautiful but hollow baubles. Not so with Sweeney Todd, which has been adapted with care (and wisely pruned here and there) by screenwriter John Logan, giving Burton a framework of plot that moves as decisively and quickly as a straight razor across an exposed throat.
There is a lot of throat-slitting, of course, in this tale of a wronged barber (Johnny Depp) eager to wreak revenge on the imperious Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) who wrongly imprisoned him and stole his wife and daughter. When, on the verge of finally settling the score, Turpin manages a last-minute escape, Todd declares war on the human race (”They all deserve to die!”).
Going from avenging angel to serial killer, Todd uses his barber’s chair as a sacrificial temple, joylessly murdering anyone unlucky enough to sit in it, then dumping their corpses into the cellar of Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter), whose meat pies suddenly become the talk of London. Depp is to Burton what DeNiro is to Scorsese — an actor perfectly attuned to his director’s unique sensibilities — and although they have done great work before (Ed Wood and Edward Scissorhands), they have rarely been as perfectly synched as they are here.
The bulk of the dialogue in Sweeney Todd is sung, which may surprise those whose only exposure to the play has been the film’s trailers, but Depp’s less-than-perfect singing, as well as Carter’s, are a perfect match for the intentionally discordant numbers: Not having to worry about hitting every note brings out an emotional intensity in their performances that is often lacking in contemporary musicals. That same vibrancy extends to the supporting actors.
Rickman, oozing moral rot and arrogance, makes the judge’s villainy something to simultaneously savor and despise, while Sacha Baron Cohen (Borat), in a humorous turn as a rival barber, and the young Edward Sanders as his apprentice, match Depp and Carter in song and performance.
As good as they all are, though, this is ultimately Burton’s show, and the director has instinctively toned down his trademark excesses that could have easily derailed the picture (notice how simple, almost bare, Todd’s salon is) while daring to push into corners much darker than expected in order to do honor to the spirit of the piece. Sweeney Todd spills as much blood as a zombie flick, and it is not afraid to occasionally get gruesome, but it’s the darkness in its heart that is most unsettling.
This story was originally published December 20, 2007 at 5:12 AM.