Sweeney Todd

Tim Burton adapts Stephen Sondheim. A master of film meets a master of the stage – what can possibly go wrong? Well, on this evidence, not much. Watching Sondheim on the big screen has several things going for it. Firstly, you can hear every last impeccable lyric in full-surround sound, reminding you of the reason he is the greatest exponent of the stage musical genre. Unlike watching Phantom Of The Opera (one of the most ball-shrinking experiences I’ve suffered in a cinema), where the music hits you like a wall of over-ripe stilton, Sondheim’s songs very much follow the grain, and only on a couple of occasions (the very first line being one of them) was I forced to wince.

One of the major make-or-break elements for critics of Sweeney Todd has been the casting of Johnny Depp. Whilst I certainly agree with the assertion that their creative relationship has probably now hit the glass ceiling, I nevertheless feel that in this case, it works well. Depp’s take on Willy Wonka was OTT and lacked comic timing, but here he manages to capture all the pain and bitterness of the infamous barber whilst only changing his facial expression once (ok, maybe twice). As his partner-in-grime Mrs Lovett, Helena Bonham-Carter is sublime, although her physical similarity to Depp is at times alarming, particularly when one considers that her partner is Burton, who in turn has a total obsession with Depp. Anyway, this disturbing ménage-a-trois aside, Sweeney Todd is an assured adaptation of a made-for-film story. Throw in one of Alan Rickman’s best performances in years, a great cameo by Sacha Baron Cohen and a child-star who can actually act, and you’ve got a mixture that tastes almost as good as Mrs Lovett’s.