Sweeney Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Review by Zachary K. Parker

There is a scene in Tim Burton’s “Sweeney Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street” where Mrs. Lovett (wonderfully played by Helena Bonham Carter) tells Mr. Todd to put his desire for revenge behind him. Todd responds, “These are desperate times. And desperate measures are called for.”

As a representative of the whole film, this statement’s theatrical banality is lifted to something tremendous as Johnny Depp shrouds himself in the snarling, malevolent character of Sweeney Todd.

Complemented by makeup that shrouds Carter and Depp’s faces in white, the protagonists’ faces suggest a ghostly appearance, or at least, something both close to and, perhaps, synonymous with death.

As a musical adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s Broadway play, the film makes its otherworldly atmosphere all the more distinctive from our own. In this world, there’s “No Place Like London,” where characters sing and dance in a place where more blood is poured by a demon barber than a Homeric battlefield. 

Before being sent to prison, Sweeney Todd was a happily married Benjamin Barker, bearing also the titles of father and barber until the maliciously corrupt Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman, there’s not enough of him in the film) eyes Barker’s wife and eventually violates her.

This David and Bathsheba turn gives Mr. Todd a raison d'être for vengeance on Judge Turpin, which he begins by starting a deceptive barbershop, dropping more blood than hair in anticipation of the end of his vengeance. Mrs. Lovett initially worries herself about Mr. Todd’s body count.

But with the help of the innocent boy, Toby (Ed Sanders, I hope to see more of him as he so easily makes his role more memorable than conventional), Mrs. Lovett does not worry about body count anymore. She cooks meat pies.

A side story includes Mr. Todd’s daughter, Johanna, who resides under the guardianship of Judge Turpin, but who plans to run away with Mr. Todd’s young acquaintance, the dreamy Antony Hope (Jamie Campbell Bower). His last name represents his and Johanna’s purpose in a film otherwise hopeless.

Unlike your typical revenge movie, “Sweeney Todd” does not leave its cynical worldview or obsession with evil incarnate as the film’s last word. Vengeance is God’s alone, and “Sweeney Todd” spills enough blood to show the chaos of one man’s killing spree. Its redeeming value is arguably ample for discussion, but its rendering of death is sufficiently dismal. 

            Death may come to all, but it particularly relishes residing with Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd. This manifestation of death is a characteristic mark of director Tim Burton, who has made his tightest film yet. Everything from the streets of London to Mrs. Lovett’s meat pies designs a brooding atmosphere, where the whole city becomes a sort of hellish dungeon.

However, unlike his masterful “Big Fish,” this film might be too much or too little to merit multiple viewings (if you see it once, you’ve seen it all) unless you’re a dedicated fan of Stephen Sondheim or the film’s principal actors.

Ultimately, the film is a razor’s length from drowning in its own bleak bloodbath. But this is “Sweeney Todd,” meant for us to relish Johnny Depp’s tour de force in a veritable concert of demonic pleasure.