I just saw "Sweeny Todd"
And though I'm aware I may be the only person in the world who feels this way, I must admit I didn't like it much.
I want to open by making clear three important facts:
1. I love Tim Burton
2. I love Johnny Depp, and Helena Bonham Carter has impressed me many times
3. I love musicals
I've always been drawn in to Burton's macabre sense of humor, which has delighted me since I saw The Nightmare Before Christmas, and kept me giggling absurdly through both of the first Batman movies, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hollow, Big Fish, and many more. And to throw this out there: before you go accusing me of being weak-stomached, know I also worked in a hospital for two years. Blood doesn't bother me. And gore in Burton films is so overdone anyway that it's amusing more than horrific.
Or at least, it should be. But to me, Todd fell flat. By constantly casting his go-to guy, Depp, and his girlfriend Carter, Burton is quickly losing cred with me. First of all, neither of them are singers, and in Sondheim's complicated scores, it shows. I know the legend himself had to approve of the chosen, but his decision is beyond me. Neither of them sucks outright. But neither of them can carry the difficult pieces and hold up the acting end of the bargain at the same time (and half the time, I don't even understand Carter, misplaced accent and timing making "The Worst Pies in London" an exceptionally difficult piece to follow if you didn't already know the lyrics).
But apart from the music, which I could forgive, I think what bothers me the most is this entire movie feels like a joke that's fallen flat. I know Sweeny Todd is a horror, but it's a horror/comedy, a satire about a life to which few of us can really relate, pampered and spoiled as we are (and I say this as a girl who found herself wishing that, instead of gift certificates, she'd been given cash for Christmas so she could make rent, car insurance and renter's insurance without being late on any of them). Let's face it: very few of us have it as bad as folk had it in London in the 19th century.
Perhaps that's part of the problem: there's too big a social gap to truly comprehend the commentary. I don't know; I'm not any kind of an expert. But the gleeful delight I look for both in Burton's films and in Depp's performances was conspicuously absent. Depp's version of Todd was all grim and gloom in this, and his killing was an afterthought most of the time, not the greedy, giddy, mad revenge he claimed to want to take. A statement about his state of mind, perhaps? It's possible. But I could've done with a Todd I could've empathized with a little more, and delighted along side of inspite of myself, even if I didn't understand him. I was told I'd end up cheering for the twisted main characters in this musical. I didn't.
I also thought Depp was wasted, unfortunately, and the quirky style I've come to adore from him only popped in to say hello once or twice (most notably in his utterly dour portrayal of Mrs. Lovett's absurdly colorful candy-cane cartoon vision of their future). This could be a case of two rights making a wrong: Burton's off-beat, stylized humor and Sondhiem's blase, brilliant, off-handed wit combined in such a way that they canceled one another out, leaving the entire film feeling dank, dreary, and not so much inspired as obligated. What should have been delightfully wicked was just plain obscene. A tragedy, in my humble opinion, given its obvious potential.
Now, before you all start hurtling things at me, I do want to say there were parts of the film that I found laugh-out-loud funny: "A Little Priest" was delightfully done, and the aforementioned sunny fantasy in which Mrs. Lovett indulges was so extravagant (and so completely in contrast to the rest of the film) that one couldn't help but giggle. The sight of Depp in what can only be described as a prison uniform (also giving nod to Burton's obligatory black-and-white stripe costume tradition) while Carter dragged him on walks along the sparkling seas, couldn't be anything BUT funny. And the supporting cast was great: Rickman, as always, gives a solid performance, as does Timothy Spall (who, as allied_biscuit so astutely observed, bore a startling resemblance to the Mad Hatter). Ed Sanders was delightful with his blond wig and drinking and his songs about magic elixirs, and his was the only emotional depth I believed throughout the entire film, saving a few glimpses into Bonham Carter's patient lusting after Depp's Todd.
(The flighty romance between Anthony and Johanna felt more like an obligation than anything else, and you can almost taste Burton's disinterest in the affair. While I understand it isn't supposed to be a focal point of the movie and is, in fact, probably being poked fun at in Sonheim's original script, I could've dealt with a little more commitment on the part of the directors. What should've been a poignant reflection of what Todd's life should have been instead felt like an overly-angsty vision of Romeo and Juliet. The saving grace was one line: when Johanna asks Anthony if all their dreams will now come true, he doesn't promise her they will, but responds in his patently optimistic way: "I hope so.")
To be honest, I'm surprised I was so distinctly unimpressed. Perhaps I over-anticipated the film; it has been known to happen. But I think there were simply too many little things that didn't quite jive to let this film work with me.
I'm going to see it again, at some point, though I imagine I'll wait until it doesn't cost me $8.50 a pop. Try anything once; try it twice to be sure. And either way, I'll still be in line for Burton's next venture the moment it opens. You win some, you lose some, right?
*waits calmly to be flayed by her flist* ;)
I want to open by making clear three important facts:
1. I love Tim Burton
2. I love Johnny Depp, and Helena Bonham Carter has impressed me many times
3. I love musicals
I've always been drawn in to Burton's macabre sense of humor, which has delighted me since I saw The Nightmare Before Christmas, and kept me giggling absurdly through both of the first Batman movies, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hollow, Big Fish, and many more. And to throw this out there: before you go accusing me of being weak-stomached, know I also worked in a hospital for two years. Blood doesn't bother me. And gore in Burton films is so overdone anyway that it's amusing more than horrific.
Or at least, it should be. But to me, Todd fell flat. By constantly casting his go-to guy, Depp, and his girlfriend Carter, Burton is quickly losing cred with me. First of all, neither of them are singers, and in Sondheim's complicated scores, it shows. I know the legend himself had to approve of the chosen, but his decision is beyond me. Neither of them sucks outright. But neither of them can carry the difficult pieces and hold up the acting end of the bargain at the same time (and half the time, I don't even understand Carter, misplaced accent and timing making "The Worst Pies in London" an exceptionally difficult piece to follow if you didn't already know the lyrics).
But apart from the music, which I could forgive, I think what bothers me the most is this entire movie feels like a joke that's fallen flat. I know Sweeny Todd is a horror, but it's a horror/comedy, a satire about a life to which few of us can really relate, pampered and spoiled as we are (and I say this as a girl who found herself wishing that, instead of gift certificates, she'd been given cash for Christmas so she could make rent, car insurance and renter's insurance without being late on any of them). Let's face it: very few of us have it as bad as folk had it in London in the 19th century.
Perhaps that's part of the problem: there's too big a social gap to truly comprehend the commentary. I don't know; I'm not any kind of an expert. But the gleeful delight I look for both in Burton's films and in Depp's performances was conspicuously absent. Depp's version of Todd was all grim and gloom in this, and his killing was an afterthought most of the time, not the greedy, giddy, mad revenge he claimed to want to take. A statement about his state of mind, perhaps? It's possible. But I could've done with a Todd I could've empathized with a little more, and delighted along side of inspite of myself, even if I didn't understand him. I was told I'd end up cheering for the twisted main characters in this musical. I didn't.
I also thought Depp was wasted, unfortunately, and the quirky style I've come to adore from him only popped in to say hello once or twice (most notably in his utterly dour portrayal of Mrs. Lovett's absurdly colorful candy-cane cartoon vision of their future). This could be a case of two rights making a wrong: Burton's off-beat, stylized humor and Sondhiem's blase, brilliant, off-handed wit combined in such a way that they canceled one another out, leaving the entire film feeling dank, dreary, and not so much inspired as obligated. What should have been delightfully wicked was just plain obscene. A tragedy, in my humble opinion, given its obvious potential.
Now, before you all start hurtling things at me, I do want to say there were parts of the film that I found laugh-out-loud funny: "A Little Priest" was delightfully done, and the aforementioned sunny fantasy in which Mrs. Lovett indulges was so extravagant (and so completely in contrast to the rest of the film) that one couldn't help but giggle. The sight of Depp in what can only be described as a prison uniform (also giving nod to Burton's obligatory black-and-white stripe costume tradition) while Carter dragged him on walks along the sparkling seas, couldn't be anything BUT funny. And the supporting cast was great: Rickman, as always, gives a solid performance, as does Timothy Spall (who, as allied_biscuit so astutely observed, bore a startling resemblance to the Mad Hatter). Ed Sanders was delightful with his blond wig and drinking and his songs about magic elixirs, and his was the only emotional depth I believed throughout the entire film, saving a few glimpses into Bonham Carter's patient lusting after Depp's Todd.
(The flighty romance between Anthony and Johanna felt more like an obligation than anything else, and you can almost taste Burton's disinterest in the affair. While I understand it isn't supposed to be a focal point of the movie and is, in fact, probably being poked fun at in Sonheim's original script, I could've dealt with a little more commitment on the part of the directors. What should've been a poignant reflection of what Todd's life should have been instead felt like an overly-angsty vision of Romeo and Juliet. The saving grace was one line: when Johanna asks Anthony if all their dreams will now come true, he doesn't promise her they will, but responds in his patently optimistic way: "I hope so.")
To be honest, I'm surprised I was so distinctly unimpressed. Perhaps I over-anticipated the film; it has been known to happen. But I think there were simply too many little things that didn't quite jive to let this film work with me.
I'm going to see it again, at some point, though I imagine I'll wait until it doesn't cost me $8.50 a pop. Try anything once; try it twice to be sure. And either way, I'll still be in line for Burton's next venture the moment it opens. You win some, you lose some, right?
*waits calmly to be flayed by her flist* ;)