There’s something about Sweeney Todd.  The tale (adapted from Stephen Sondheim’s musical, which was adapted from Christopher Bond’s play, which was based on earlier Victorian melodramas and penny dreadfuls) is perfect grist for Tim Burton’s morbid mill.  The musical film tells the story of Sweeney Todd, a vengeful barber whose life was ruined by a crooked judge.  Partnered with Mrs. Lovett, the demonic duo come up with an ingenious way of disposing of the bodies left in wake of Todd’s straight razor: the victims of Todd’s war against the world are baked into meat pies and sold in a shop in Fleet Street.

The film’s depiction of London is suitably grimy, dreary, and depraved.  Everything is grey, the streets run with filth, and mankind had been reduced to a teeming, abusive multitude.  Against that grim backdrop, the characters emerge as twisted distortions of an already degraded world.  Alan Rickman is wonderful as the licentious and corrupt judge, Helena Bonham Carter shines as the opportunistic Mrs. Lovett, and Sacha Baron Cohen brings a certain flourish to the role of Signor Pirelli, an Italian barber who is not all that he seems.  Of course, the real star is Johnny Depp, who manages an astonishing level of malevolence.  And, oh yes, violence ensues.  Sweeney Todd is easily the most violent film in Burton’s oeuvre.  While the violence is highly stylized, there is enough bloodspray and throat-slitting to keep any giallo fan riveted in their seat.

Sweeney Todd is Burton at his darkest.  The film plays like Dickens through a Grand Guignol lens.  Or Grand Guignol through a Dickensian lens.  Either way, this film is the best thing Burton has done in years; it captures the director’s unique sensibilities, delivers an enthralling story, and catches a group of talented actors thoroughly inhabiting their characters.

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