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December 20, 2007
Sweeney Todd
It must say something about my mood of late that it wasn't until the sprays of arterial red splashed the screen en masse in Sweeney Todd that I felt an inkling of Christmas spirit. This seasonal constitution, normally brought on by twinkling lights or a well-timed carol, has finally reared its head. It's throat, summarily, has been slashed. I've never seen Stephen Sondheim's beloved musical and hence don't quite know what I'm missing in adaptive regards; but I do know Tim Burton, and the upper lip that's been flailing after his many middling efforts these past few years has finally been drawn up into a broad, childish grin. I loved this movie.
Burton's been after this project for over a decade, and as with all of his films, quality is commensurate with auteurial passion. And I suspect that maybe, betwixt all the Saturday afternoon Vincent Price marathons he watched as a child, he may have taken in his fare share of Rodgers & Hammerstein as well: his visualization of Sondheim's book is astonishing. His camera swoops and slides with as much musicality as the soundtrack, and the progression of his gorgeous chiaroscuros have newfound cadence and grace. And as for the songs - well, dialogue's generally seemed a nuisance to him, and replacing it almost entirely with libretto has done wonders for his directorial constitution.
This is also, perhaps, the best looking film he's ever made. Composed in concert with cinematographer Dariusz Wolski and the great production designer Dante Feretti, every frame is a perfectly realized masterpiece, suitable for framing, ready for wrapping. Much of the imagery is, I assume, augmented with digital effects, but the blend is entirely seamless - as are the makeup effects that yield many a festive, Hammer-hued geyser.
And there's something else changed, too. The outsider motif that Burton has been coasting on, that he's practically driven into the ground, blooms here into full blown misanthropy. Outsiders, it turns out, can only go so long being misunderstood and set apart before they snap in one way or another, and Burton luxuriates in his protagonists' madness with almost alarming glee: he truly, deeply empathizes with his demon barber. This is, one suspects, something he's been storing up for quite some time, and watching his baroque piety unfurl into full furious Guignol grandiloquence is about as invigorating as Christmas presents get.
Posted by David Lowery at December 20, 2007 1:43 AM
Comments
I predict that the reviews for this movie will coax the word "Guignol" out of the hibernation that it's been in since... well, since the days of Grand Guignol.
Posted by: Matt Latham at December 22, 2007 10:43 AM
You're right - but can you think of a better word with which to describe the film?
Your comment made me curious about the etymology of the word: its origin, directly preceeding the theatrical event that embedded it in the common lexicon, was in a Punch & Judy style puppet show featuring a character named Guignol.
Posted by: Ghostboy at December 22, 2007 12:27 PM
If you'd seen the movie at the Alamo, you could have had a meat pie to enjoy while watching the film.
Posted by: Adam Donaghey at December 23, 2007 9:54 AM