Walrus Comix DVD Review
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Few creative pairings have proved as consistently fruitful as the ongoing collaboration between Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. Each party is more than capable of standing alone, yet there is a definite symbiosis at play when the duo deigns to work together. Beginning with Edward Scissorhands nearly two decades ago, Depp and Burton have taken distinct pleasure in subverting the mainstream while offering glimpses into the lives of marginalized characters and the often otherworldly webs in which they operate. In adapting Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street to the screen from the stage, Burton and Depp have made the amoral morality tale of the titular barber hell bent on revenge their own. Depp attacks his role with requisitely fiendish glee, and Helena Bonham Carter proves wonderfully despicable as his would-be paramour and piemaker extraordinaire Mrs. Lovett. Burton, who remains a true visionary when it comes to utilizing setpieces as a means of establishing a tone for his films, pulls back the curtain on London’s notoriously seedy underbelly and allows his performers every opportunity to tap into the gloom that pervades the proceedings. Amidst the rampant bloodletting, however, Burton works in enough of Stephen Sondheim’s macabre whimsy to allow for further inspection of his characters’ machinations via some pretty inspired bursts of song. Sweeney Todd enables Burton to combine various elements of his catalogue in one production while suggesting that the auteur still has a few stones left unturned in that unique and ever unfolding imagination.

Sweeney Todd tells the story of a skillful barber with a loving wife and young child who is wrongfully given a one-way ticket to Australia by a lecherous judge (played by the always solid Alan Rickman). Upon making his way back to London many years later, the artist formerly known as Benjamin Barker reinvents himself as Sweeney Todd and lays forth a plan that will make his enemies both real and imagined pay for the losses visited upon him by Judge Turpin. As Todd begins to give method to his madness, his plight is aided by the lovestruck Mrs. Lovett, who tends the pie shop below his barbershop and quickly demonstrates a willingness to match Todd’s literal thirst for blood. Commonality is a prerequisite for most budding romances, but Todd has little to offer anyone else except for a wellspring of misanthropy, thus rendering the mutual admiration society between the two a bit one-sided. While Todd relishes the zeal with which Mrs. Lovett plies her missives, he ultimately views her as a tool through which his ultimate vision can be realized, whereas she sees the genuine passion with which he pursues his goal through hormonally cracked lenses. When Todd discovers that his wife killed herself after being defiled by the judge and that his daughter now spends her days as his ward and would-be young bride (a fate which she thoroughly detests), he breaks out his finest set of razors and shares his contempt with all unfortunate enough to find their way to his barber’s chair.
Cinema is well stocked with charismatic villains, and Sweeney Todd offers Depp the opportunity to invert his Captain Jack persona in tracing the lines around a man equally enraged and heartbroken by the tragedies he has endured through no fault of his own. Depp’s demon barber is a literal shadow of his former self, and the actor’s signature cheekbones give way to wondrously deep circles around eyes that seem black to the core yet still possess a spark of his previous self. The artful pout is traded for a full-on scowl, and Depp gives a very convincing portrait of a man for whom vengeance has become a penultimate means to its own end. Bonham Carter matches Depp in all his goth glory as the wanton piemaker, yet her depiction of Mrs. Lovett does leave some room for less atypical ideations of romance and requited love. She yearns to feel the passion that has turned Todd into a monster, even if her actions suggest she is incapable of such a feat. As she perfects her ghoulish meat pie recipe, she remains unironically oblivious to the fact that Todd will never stand in possession of the depth of feeling that previously inspired him and now haunts him. As the rivers of blood begin to flow freely, each throat slit further removes Todd from his capacity to relate to anyone in any meaningful manner, even if his rampage is rooted in someone else’s wrongdoing.

Burton has always had a readily identifiable quirk factor associated with his work, but his most effective pieces have always featured a discernibly pulsating heart. Sweeney Todd is similar in that respect to Edward Scissorhands or Ed Wood, but Todd stands as an opportunity for Burton to examine the role of the outsider who has embraced nihilism as a plausible response to his surroundings. In assembling a cast that includes Depp, Bonham Carter, Rickman, and even Sacha Baron Cohen as an upstart rival of Todd’s, Burton has culled together the necessary resources to conjure the necessary strains of horror, dark comedy, and emotional resonance in translating Sweeney Todd from the stage to the screen. Burton makes use of some of Stephen Sondheim’s original compositions, but perhaps the best compliment that can be paid to this facet of the film is that the musical numbers really don’t stand out but appear as a fundamental part of the tapestry the director has woven in telling his story. Sweeney Todd, for all of its shock factor and salacious content, emerges as one of Burton’s most complete and mature collaborations with his frequent frontman Depp, and the film suggests that the duo have plenty of cinematic ground left to cover alongside one another. The film is accompanied on DVD by a second disc full of extras, with notable features devoted to fleshing out the history of the urban legends that inspired the title character, a look at various rehearsals and read-throughs that showcase the chemistry between the primary participants, and a historical look at the Grand Guignol traditions that shape both the film and play.

- Brant Miles