Top 15 of the 2000s Countdown: #14

Today's entry, and #14 on my list, comes from one of my favorite directors, and is one of the best of the recently revived musical genre. However, this man's name and "musical" aren't exactly a match one would instantly make. For one, the material would have to be suitably dark and weird, but also with a quirky and darkly humorous edge. But even then, the risk still remained that this man might not be able to successfully stage musical sequences, whether on a small scale or involving a full company and complicated choreography. Thankfully he succeeded beyond my expectations, and the result is #14 on my list. The film I'm talking about is:






#14. "Sweeney Todd" (2007) by Tim Burton: Like all Burton films, this one boasts a visual stimulating opening credits sequence, but almost instantly the differences become apparent: Blood flows down a barber's chair. The sequence takes us down further and further, until we end in the sewers. In Burton's long line of whimy-coated quirkfests, such an opening seems freakishly dark. And to make it all more unsettling, this is supposed to be a musical. Add into the mix that none of Mr. Burton's toplining stars have been blessed with stellar vocals, and such a project seems doomed from the start. So the big question is, "what on earth went so damn right?" Quite a bit, as it turns out. First, there's Burton's decision to not be slavishly faithful to Sondheim's original material. In eliminating "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd", a song sung by a ghostly Greek chorus of sorts, along with at least one minor supporting character, Mr. Burton accomplishes two goals: he makes his production un-stagey, and keeps his focus tighter. Burton was wise enough to see that the heart of the story is the oh-so-devilish relationship between Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter). There is a separate "couple" of sorts played by Jamie Campbell-Bower and Jane Wisener, and if they weren't tied to such a crucial part of the story, it's likely that Burton would have (wisely) cut them out entirely, just to keep the film all the more focused on his central duo. And what a duo they are. While Depp and Burton have quite a history together, and while this may be their first time together where Depp doesn't knock one out of the park. And that's where Ms. Bonham-Carter gets to shine. Having long been relegated to small roles in her husband's films, this is her first chance to truly make an impact under her husband's direction, and make an impact she does. She tackles Sondheim's fast paced, clever lyrics like a true pro, making her rendition of "The Worst Pies in London", in which she makes a pie while singing, all the more impressive. In interviews, Carter has labeled this role as one of her most physically and mentally demanding, but she makes it all look easy. She also provides us the heart of the film. Her interactions with Toby (the wonderful Ed Sanders, who has the film's strongest voice) provide the emotional core in a world filled with filth, corruption, and murder. Watching her listen to Toby promise to protect her forever, or seeing her lock Toby in the basement to shield him from Mr. Todd is nothing short of magic; it's a performance for which Ms. Carter was most definitely robbed of a second Oscar nomination. She is funny, kooky, adorable, and eerie, all in one, without feeling inconsistent or schizophrenic. Along with Sanders, the supporting cast also boasts good, albeit slightly routine performances from its two villains, played by Alan Rickman and Timothy Spall, along with a surprisingly strong turn from "Borat" star Sacha Baron Cohen. But the biggest and most delightful surprise is in the way Mr. Burton is able to direct his musical sequences. None of them involve any sort of choreography, and so Burton shoots the singing parts simply, letting the presence of his stars and the cutting (no pun intended) wit of Sondheim's lyrics bask in the spotlight. Such focus on the performers allows us to really see their emotions as they perform the songs, and makes the scenes riveting in a way that elaborate staging or snazzy choreography never could have. Watching Depp and Carter's movements and faces as they sing "A Little Priest" is nothing short of a wicked delight. On the artistic front, the film is also a knockout. The sets are appropriately sparse and dirty, or lush and flooded with color, and Colleen Atwood's fantastic costumes match the personalities of the characters note by note. Visually the film mostly keeps things filled with grey and black, making those moments filled with bright colors all the more startlingly beautiful. As far as editing goes, the story, save for one or two blips, moves between dialogue and song seamlessly. But it's Burton's direction that is the most impressive. Though he's known for having an engaging visual style, his stories sometimes run a tad too long in certain areas. In "Sweeney Todd" we see Mr. Burton focused and driven like never before, and the results are quite commanding, particularly in moments when there are tiny but bloody bursts of violence. In a way in which I was never expecting, these moments of violence also manage to create a striking amount of intensity, most notably in the finale which, after all of its chaos, Mr. Burton ends by a simple zoom-out before fading to black. It's a stunningly crisp, un-flashy ending to a movie filled with bloody mayhem, and the impact is a sense of quiet astonishment. My only criticism of the story is that there are times when Mr. Burton's desire to tighten the pacing result in a near-rushed feel. At times right when one character leaves, another person arrives within seconds to deliver the latest news to maintain the forward momentum. I used to have some issues with Depp's performance, and even on re-watches, his brooding and staring doesn't have quite the depth that he thinks it does, but it's certainly far from the soul-sucking black hole that some have labeled it as. It's just that, in a movie filled with so much excellence, it's a surprise to see one of Hollywood's most talented actors deliver a performance that doesn't knock our socks off.

Grade: A

Best Performance: Helena Bonham Carter

Best Scene:

Sweeney Todd - REVIEW

Tim Burton you magnificent bastard...you've done it again! In fact it could very well be your BEST. This delightfully demented story of a wrongfully imprisoned man who teams up with a struggling baker to rid the world of filth by grinding them up for meat in her pies...it's nothing short of a tour d'force. In shortening Sondheim's 3 hour stage musical into a neat 2 hours, the story clips along quite well, and given a nice shot of adrenaline by the songs, which alternate between normal singing and "talk-singing". Depp and Bonham Carter and...well...really everyone (even Alan Rickman who I never thought would prove to be even an OK singer) sing their parts to perfection. Does this mean they should all make albums? Of course not, but for the material they work brilliantly.

The lyrics are clever and they hit you fast, and the musical numbers, though they lack grand choreography, are nothing short of exhilarating. One of the film's best scenes comes when Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett begin examining the reasons why various people in the city deserve to be cut up into pies. What's perhaps most surprising though, is in the acting through song. Everyone had their doubts about Depp, but even heavier doubt (some of it quite nasty) was placed on Bonham Carter.

It is the ultimate ironic twist that she is actually better than Depp in the film. It may simply come down to a matter of the way the roles are written however (not to put down Ms. Carter....the woman is phenomenally talented and a joy to watch every second here). Mrs. Lovett has a bit more range, whereas Sweeney is more singleminded. If this had been Depp's "breakthrough role", perhaps I wouldn't feel the need to be critical, but we've seen what range Depp has, and in comparison with some of his other roles, Sweeney's single-mindedness makes him not the quite the show stopper I expected. That said, it's an excellent performance, and Depp's odd voice lends a certain rock and roll anguish to the role. Seeing as so many of the songs are set like conversations, Burton films them like conversations, and not like musical sequences, and it works marvelously. Visually, the film is a gothic delight. Most of the film could almost pass for being black and white, but even so, it's not unpleasant to look at.

For a bit of contrast, Burton gives us a handful of flashback shots (and one or two in the present) in color so stunning it could be Technicolor. And then there's the blood which shoots out in geysers (I was shocked to see a couple with a child no more than EIGHT in the theater...this is no kiddie movie AT ALL). What's perhaps the most surprising about the film though is how...well...oddly accurate it is in its portrayal of its time period. Everything is dim and gray for a reason....this Dickensian era was full of corruption and the bitter need to survive. Throughout the film, Rickman's Judge Turpin constantly justifies the horrible things he does, including sending a young child to the noose for a crime he probably didn't do. Not everything is perfect, however. The love story subplot between young sailor Anthony and Sweeney's daughter Johanna feels just a tad rushed (too much of a love-at-first-sight deal), but this does not prevent the film from being incredibly engaging, clever, and most of all, absolutely breathtaking. The story is so strong, the singing so perfectly executed, the production so haunting, and the vision is so spectacularly disturbed. Burton hasn't just created a breathtaking film...he's created a masterpiece. Honestly....if 2007 can keep raising the bar this late in the year, then I'd say that it's easily the strongest year for film of the decade.

Grade: A+

Current Nominations: Best Picture (#1 WINNER), Best Director - Tim Burton (#1 WINNER), Best Actor - Johnny Depp (#2), Best Actress - Helena Bonham Carter (#2), Best Adapted Screenplay (TIE #1 WINNER TIE), Best Editing (TIE #1 WINNER TIE), Best Costume Design (#1 WINNER), Best Cinematography (#3), Best Art Direction (#2), Best Makeup (#2), Best Sound (#3)

Sweeney Todd's Opening Credits Sequence hits the Internet!!!

and it's bloody excellent (literally):

New Sweeney Todd poster

finally one that has both Depp and Bonham Carter...

First review of Sweeney Todd from Variety!!

He loves it!

By TODD MCCARTHY

Sweeney Todd - Johnny Depp
Mrs. Nellie Lovett - Helena Bonham Carter
Judge Turpin - Alan Rickman
Beadle Bamford - Timothy Spall
Adolfo Pirelli - Sacha Baron Cohen
Johanna - Jayne Wisner
Anthony Hope - Jamie Campbell Bower
Toby - Edward Sanders
Beggar Woman - Laura Michelle Kelly

Both sharp and fleet, “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” proves a satisfying screen version of Stephen Sondheim’s landmark 1979 theatrical musical. Where much could have gone wrong, things have turned out uniformly right thanks to highly focused direction by Tim Burton, expert screw-tightening by scenarist John Logan to bring the show from three hours down to two, and fine, haunted and musically adept lead performances from Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter. Artistic combo assembled here assures the film will reap by far the biggest audience ever to see a pure Sondheim musical, although just how big depends on the upscale crowd’s tolerance for buckets of blood, and the degree to which the masses stay away due to the whiff of the highbrow. In all events, DreamWorks-Paramount and Warner Bros. have a classy and reasonably commercial delicacy on their hands.

The composer-lyricist’s bulging shelf of awards and peerless reputation notwithstanding, Sondheim’s own shows have never invited much bigscreen interest, no doubt due to the general feeling that they are works from and for the head rather than the heart. The two films that were made from his musicals, “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” and “A Little Night Music,” were, to put it kindly, hardly representative of the effect the shows had onstage.

Some Broadway purists will gripe about how the film of “Sweeney Todd” omits and abridges certain songs, reshapes the drama to a degree or just can’t measure up to their cherished memories of Angela Lansbury’s wondrous performance as Mrs. Lovett. But it will be hard to argue that Burton and his cohorts have not imaginatively reconceived the piece as a work of cinema; strictly in film terms, “Sweeney” is seamless, coherent and vibrant, with scarcely a trace of “Broadway” about it.

The flip side of these virtues is that the immaculately designed settings and paucity of breathing room lend the film a hermetic, claustrophobic feel that underlines its status as an art work. Other qualitative considerations to the side, this aspect makes “Sweeney Todd” most recall the much-debated “Evita” among screen versions of post-’60s musicals.

Eschewing trademark mannerisms and flights of fancy and yet fully imprinting the film with his signature, Burton strongly delivers the dark core of this story of a lower-class London barber whose thirst for revenge against a venal judge gives birth to a prodigious serial killer. Yarn has questionable real-life origins in the 18th century, but came to prominence as a story and a stage drama in the mid-19th century, and in 1973 served as the inspiration for the Christopher Bond play that attracted Sondheim’s attention.

As Sweeney Todd (Depp) sails up the Thames with a young man, Anthony (Jamie Campbell Bower), having escaped from 15 years’ imprisonment in Australia, his bitterly ironic commentary in “There’s No Place Like London” firmly defines the side of the city the film will occupy; in production designer Dante Ferretti’s superb realization, it is a squalid place of narrow streets and dingy rooms. Evoking old Hollywood horror films, Burton has made something very close to a real black-and-white film, as Ferretti’s sets, the extensive CGI backgrounds, Dariusz Wolski’s lensing, Colleen Atwood’s costumes and the pale makeup are synchronized to permit only traces of bold color -- mostly red -- to accent a world dominated by shades of gray, blue, white and black.

Sweeney Todd returns with the single-minded intention of killing Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman, as deliciously sinister as fans know he can be), who locked him up on false charges so he could make off with the younger man’s lovely wife Lucy and young daughter.

Installed in a room above a dismal pie shop run by his slovenly long-ago landlady, Mrs. Lovett (Bonham Carter), Sweeney has his desire for payback sharpened by the news that Lucy killed herself out of distress and Turpin is now romantically inclined toward Sweeney’s now-teenage daughter, Johanna (Jayne Wisner), who coincidentally catches the eye of the naively romantic Anthony (Campbell Bower’s screen future seems assured, thanks to looks so striking that they distract one from looking even at Depp).

Sweeney’s murderous career commences to the detriment of a fellow barber, charlatan and con artist Adolfo Pirelli (Sacha Baron Cohen), following a public musical “duel” to determine who in London can administer the quickest, closest shave. Cohen, in his first screen appearance since “Borat,” makes the most of this brief but expansive supporting role, broadly playing the braggart showman with, as required, two different accents and highly colorful costumes.

Mrs. Lovett, a widow who signals her enduring love for Sweeney by having carefully kept his collection of gleaming razors all through the years, makes a quick moral adjustment to her boarder’s bloody enterprise by using his victims’ flesh in her meat pies, which brings her business roaring back to life.

All the while, Judge Turpin and his malevolent henchman Beadle Bamford (an unctuous, gruesomely toothsome Timothy Spall) frustratingly elude Sweeney’s clutches; once they’re on to him and Anthony, the virtuous Johanna is thrown into an asylum, while Mrs. Lovett begins entertaining delusions of happily-ever-after domestic bliss with Sweeney.

Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler fashioned a darkly effective morality tale out of this descent into madness, one Logan has elegantly whittled down to the more concise specifications of the screen. Dialogue is present when needed, but the vast majority of the text and drama is conveyed via the songs, which themselves have sometimes been shortened, with verses removed, with little loss in impact.

Burton stages the singing sequences with precision and fluidity; as most of them are intimate one-or-two-person affairs and not production numbers in the traditional sense, he approaches them as he would dramatic scenes, in degrees of closeup and with an emphasis on content and forward movement. Music has always played a major role in his films (notably in his previous pic, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”) and this represents one happy instance of a film made by a director without stage experience that genuinely serves the intentions of the original piece.

Heavy curiosity will center on how Depp, in particular, manages the vocals (all the actors performed their songs themselves). The answer is, perfectly well, thank you. The ever-resourceful thesp doesn’t take the half-measure of sing-speaking in the manner of Rex Harrison or Richard Burton, but puts across his many numbers with a scarcely overpowering but entirely agreeable voice that effectively registers the lyrics’ import.

The same goes for Bonham Carter, a similarly untrained vocalist, who works in the same vein of successfully acting her role through song. There is deeply buried emotion and charged motivations in both characters that Depp and Bonham Carter consistently express, and the eerie similarity of their looks -- the endlessly dark eyes, cascading black hair, delicate facial structure, sunken cheeks, exaggerated lips, slight stature -- accentuates the characters’ complicity; at one point, they are both so pale, they look like they’ve been done up in whiteface.

Another effective connection is made between Sweeney and his mortal enemy, Rickman’s hanging judge; both express the view, and justify their predisposition for meting out severe punishment, that all men have done something in their lives that make them deserve to die. It is certainly true of the two of them, no matter that one is the antihero, and the other the villain, of the piece.

The narrow, heavily deterministic and, yes, gushingly bloody nature of the show (more than enough to warrant its R rating) serves to mute the exhilaration factor here to a degree, but producers Richard Zanuck, Walter Parkes and Laurie MacDonald (and Sondheim, who had approval of the director and actors) deserve credit for insuring that everyone involved on the picture was the right person for the job.

http://www.variety.com/review/VE1117935560.html?categoryid=31&cs=1