Tim Burton, Sweeney Todd

by Kathryn Durfee
12/21/2007

Now, I'll be the first to admit that musicals are a little bit silly, but who better to bring Broadway's bloodiest musical to the screen than Tim Burton? His adaptation of composer Stephen Sondheim's award-winning Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is a frightening, gory, and utterly delightful tale of revenge and madness. Oh, and pies.

Sweeney Todd (Johnny Depp) was, in another life, Benjamin Barker, the best barber in London. He had a beautiful wife and daughter, whom he loved. Jealous of Barker's family, Judge Turpin (the perfectly cast Alan Rickman) puts Barker in jail in Australia for a crime he did not commit. Returning to Fleet Street after fifteen years in prison, he finds Mrs. Lovett (Burton's long-time girlfriend Helena Bonham Carter) running a meat pie shop below his old shop. Her pies, she admits, are disgusting. But, the two come up with a plan to get both businesses up and running: Todd slits his customers' throats, and Lovett bakes the men into pies which are hailed as the best meat pies in the city. An economically symbiotic relationship to be admired, if it wasn't for all the blood. Todd kills many, but the throat he ultimately wants under his knife is that of Turpin, the man who ruined the life of his beloved and now holds his daughter as a prisoner and future bride.

Production designer Dante Ferretti and cinematographer Dariusz Wolski make this London resemble the underworld, just as Todd does in his first song "No Place Like London": the streets are filled with rats, the skies are always gray, everything is in shadow, and all the people looks somber and morose (some may say that this is London even on a good day).

In fact, the only real color in the whole production is of the gallons and gallons of blood. Not just any blood, but Burton's trademark bright red blood, which he loves to splatter on windows, floors, the camera lens, and his actors. The sets look like decrepit dollhouses, another Burton touch. Burned and peeling wallpaper adorns the walls and broken mirrors and frosted glass decorate Todd's shop. The creepiest but most Burton-esque (think of the torture instruments from Sleepy Hollow) feature is Todd's barber's chair. Previously an ordinary armchair, Todd has made a few minor adjustments in order to keep business running smoothly and efficiently. This certainly isn't Holly Golightly's London.

But what about the music? Sweeney Todd is indeed a musical film, but not the kind you would expect. There are no big flashy sequences or stage acts featuring tons of extras. Nay, this is a more intimate affair. Most scenes feature only one or two characters, making it eerie and confined. There is very little dialogue; most of the story and character psychology is communicated through songs, which are, for the most part, delicate and personal. One exception is the scene in which Mrs. Lovett sings about her dream of living on the shore. While these brightly colored locations (the park, a chapel, a boardwalk) appear incongruous at first, the film's style pervades in Todd's and Lovett's clothing and makeup and the undeniable sense that these are just big sets. For example, Todd's bathing suit seems to have been designed by Beetlejuice's personal stylist.

Depp, a Tim Burton favorite, is ideally cast as Sweeney Todd. With ghostly make up and a shot of white hair amongst his wiry black locks, there is no denying that he is barking mad. His descent into insanity is contemplative and methodical. All of the actors did all their own singing, and Depp's voice is not only impressive but also expressive. Todd's anguish and pain come through most clearly in the songs. Though he is somewhat soft spoken, Todd is not to be cast aside lightly. He is volatile, given to delusions, and bloodthirsty.

Todd's dark and brooding nature is contrasted by Carter's Mrs. Lovett, a strange bird who thinks nothing of cooking up people to boost her business. She handles Todd well, calming him when necessary but more often fueling his fire. She brings a welcome sense of humor to the film, even though it is a macabre one. But, poor delusional girl; she never lets go of the fantasy that she and the barber will live by the shore.

Alan Rickman's Judge Turpin is despicable; selfish and cruel, he ruined a young man's life so that he could have what he wanted. And now, audiences will agree, he must pay. And pay he does. Sacha Baron Cohan also makes an appearance here, his first film role since Borat, as a rival barber and familiar face from Todd's past. With multiple accents and bright costumes, he makes the most of his role before becoming Todd's first victim.

Ultimately, justice is served, though perhaps not in the way you would expect. The ending is not happy, but it is nonetheless right. Everything happens just as it must in order to close the book on this demonic murderer. But really, what kind of happy ending could this story possibly have? By the end, Todd is so far from human and his past self that there is no way of going back. He has fallen, and while he takes as many people as he can with him, he cannot survive this way.

Sweeney Todd is not a pleasant film, but director Burton has stayed true to the source material. Be prepared for buckets of blood, raw gore, and a touch of cannibalism. It's also probably a good idea to be a fan of Tim Burton's work. If I haven't yet convinced you that Sweeney Todd is a triumph, I will leave you with one last tidbit: Stephen Sondheim, very protective of his work, has prevented this musical from being adapted into a film since its opening. Only when presented with Burton's vision did the composer allow the project to move forward. The result is a fluid and faithful adaptation of the original work, and a bloody good film.