CinePhillyist Reviews... Sweeney Todd

Editor's note: This review contains some comments and descriptions that could be considered "spoilers," but only if you're unfamiliar with the story of Sweeney Todd, which is unforgivable anyway, so we have little sympathy for you.

I love Stephen Sondheim. I even took a semester-long course on Stephen Sondheim. I like to think of myself as pretty intimately acquainted with Sondheim's work. And so I'm probably going to be a lot pickier about an adaptation of a Sondheim show than your average critic.

Is the new Tim Burton adaptation of Sweeney Todd good? Yes – especially if you're a Tim Burton fan. The visuals are especially lush, depicting the kind of alternative universe that he's cultivated over his career: like our own, yet at a heightened state of surreality. Johnny Depp, although possibly too young to play the beleaguered barber of Fleet Street (he's supposed to have spent twenty years at a prison camp), gives a solid performance as the film's title character. Alan Rickman is perfectly nasty as Judge Turpin, and Timothy Spall (it's a regular Harry Potter reunion!) is revolting and devious as Beadle Bamford. Sacha Baron Cohen is perfect as Pirelli, the faux-Italian barber. (His song is probably the best moment in the show, but maybe I just feel that way because I enjoyed whispering "Oh my god, he killed Borat!" shortly thereafter.) Jonathan Tunick, arguably Sondheim's best arranger, orchestrated the film's score. The costumes are either odd or beautiful, depending on what the moment calls for.

But it's not great. Sweeney Todd the film sticks closely to the plot of the original play, but cuts out the play's key musical leit motif and title song, "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd." Although some of the instrumentals from the song remain in the show (often swelling to an almost deafening volume during especially dramatic moments in the film), the lyrics have been expunged completely: a slap in the face to so brilliant a writer as Sondheim and an almost inexcusable offense to the Sondheim purist who expects a baritone to sing the lyrics: "Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd./ His skin was pale and his eye was odd./ He shaved the faces of gentlemen/ who never thereafter were heard of again," to begin the action of the plot. The film seems incomplete as a result of this omission; no matter how cool the opening credits are (judge for yourself – Jim linked to them in Whiz last week), Sweeney Todd ain't Sweeney Todd without "Sweeney Todd." "God, That's Good!," the song sung by diners at Mrs. Lovett's while eating her (human) meat pies, is also noticeably absent from the film, diminishing some of the story's comedic irony.

These omissions might be more forgivable if the music that remains in Sweeney Todd were a bit easier to hear. When you go see live musical theatre, you'll occasionally find that the lyrics are difficult to understand because the live orchestra drowns out the vocalists. In film, there's no excuse for this to happen: there are engineers who should be able to mix the sound so that even the quietest singer may be heard. In several instances, Helena Bonham Carter was completely inaudible over the accompaniment. (Granted, that may be because she simply can't sing and the sound editors are doing us all a favor – but who could tell?)

In all, Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd is a beautiful film, but, to the Sondheim superfan, a disappointing one. I'd had such high hopes – but in the end, I left the theatre feeling unsatisfied. Maybe I was just hungry for a meat pie.

Image via I Watch Stuff