Sweeney Todd

The problem in translating a musical to film is that by its very nature a musical is an auditory experience and film is a visual experience. The single biggest danger in the adaptation is guarding against sensory overload. Moulin Rouge, the film that spawned the movie musical renaissance, balanced this by giving us rich visuals that were supported by familiar pop tunes. The audience could listen on autopilot while digesting the visual. Last season's musical, Dreamgirls, struck the balance by being far less daring visually, because it was presenting new (or at least less familiar) music.

This year's musical blockbuster faces some steep challenges. Sweeney Todd is considered by many to be the zenith of the twentieth-century American musical. The score is lush and demanding on the audience. The lyrics are nuanced and brilliant. And it was conceived as full evening of theater, which gives an audience time to digest the work's complexity. The nature of modern movies requires a running time of less than two hours and relentless visual stimulation. The balance struck between material and medium in an adaptation of a musical of such magnitude has got to be razor sharp.

In many ways Tim Burton is successful with his adaptation. The score has been smartly honed and is presented at a brisk pace. Burton remains true to his visual style, which helps the audience in orienting itself to the overall experience. Still, Burton's style at times overwhelms the text, especially in the quieter scenes, and is not up to moments of higher style. The best number from the show "Try Some Priest," which is the peak of the live Sweeney experience, is flat on screen.

But ultimately, whether on the stage or screen, any piece lives or dies with the performers. And, in the final analysis, there's just no getting around the fact that Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter are not up to the demands of Sondheim's text.

Depp, fundamentally a brilliant film actor, is swathed in Burton artistry, glowering from layers of make-up and looking like a bitter, grown-up Edward Scissorhands. But it's his voice that fails the character. Sweeney doesn't require an operatic basso profundo, but it does demand a voice with some gravitas. Depp's reedy pop voice sounds like an over-tired boy bander and not a world-weary tragic figure. Finally, his performance is doomed by Burton's direction, which seems to have been to walk around like a zombie. The power of the material is completely lost if Sweeney isn't charming. The story becomes just another slasher film, this one set to music.

Bonham Carter, while a vocally a good match for Depp is also completely vocally inadequate for the role. Written for Angela Lansbury, herself not a great singer, the role demands vocal character. Lansbury has that in buckets. Character and distinction in the voice is what is demanded by Sondheim. Not a pretty face. Sadly, vocal development and distinction is completely lost from modern performer trainers. Time was that an actor had to communicate to the back row of the balcony. Then microphones made that unnecessary. Now, a performer seems to be required to do little more than move his lips in the same general pattern as the words on the pre-recorded track: a puppet show with a pulse.

However, Bonham Carter is not swamped by the style and actually delivers an interesting, nuanced performance. Her Mrs. Lovett is sexy and needy and calculating and loving and ruthless. It's a brilliant performance that simply fails vocally. Had she been given dialogue instead of lyrics, Bonham Carter's performance would walk away with an Oscar.

There are, however, three performances that stand out. Alan Rickman, always riveting, makes the lecherous Judge Turpin repulsive and absolutely worthy of his fate, as does Timothy Spall as Beadle Banford. However, the best voice comes in the package of the small boy, Ed Sanders, playing Tobey.

But none of these performers held the burden of supporting the Burton style, and at the end of the day that is where the problem lies. Sweeney Todd does not fail. It misses. I went in expecting a ten, and had to settle for a seven.