Sweeney Todd

I'm always of two minds when it comes to Tim Burton's films. For one, I find his taste to suit my own morbid palate, and his stories tends to fit in a dark fairytale realm that is both unique and oft imitated. Yet whenever he tackles someone else's material I feel he is somehow constricted. Square, even; that bothers me, because I regard him as a visionary.

His two Batman films to be suitably murky, yet often to their own detriment; his adaptations of Planet Of The Apes and Charlie And The Chocolate Factory were huge letdowns. These are films that belong in a very particular canon. They are either franchises or "reinterpretations" of previously adapted material-- in versions that are loved by movie-going audiences already. And his rather dull Corpse Bride is inspired by a Jewish folktale.

On the flipside, Ed Wood, Edward Scissorhands, Beetlejuice, Mars Attacks!-- these are films I admire and envy and love and am always eager to revisit.

There are two exceptions: Sleepy Hollow is a fun (if not entirely perfect) reinvention of a tale many remember best as a Disney cartoon; and his adaptation of Big Fish is probably the best film he's ever made (and I damn near cry every time I see it).

I've been thinking about this a lot, since I just saw Sweeney Todd. Perhaps my expectations were too high. Perhaps I thought the marriage of material and director seemed ideal, and thus the offspring cannot live up to the legacy. Because goddammit-- I wanted to like it. I wanted to LOVE it. A gorey musical? Hell yeah!

Sure, the blood runs by the bucket, and the performances are fine. I was not bothered at all by the many complaints I heard about Johnny Depp's and Helene Bonham Carter's singing. And any movie with Alan Rickman and Timothy Spall has enough taste to fill a swimming pool.

But in general, it being a musical, the film is somehow not a very musical one in terms of visuals. There are moments where Burton lets the camera break the confines of reality (I mean, this is a world where people break into song, people) and those are the most enjoyable scenes. Todd offering his services around town, blade in hand, only to magically reappear in his barbershop? That's a wonderful moment when time and space are shattered to escape the limitations of the story, and it's great. And there's a murder montage that follows the same premise-- yet still feels merely like a montage that stylistically could fit in any other movie.

I wonder if these ideas were set in stone in the screenplay, or if Burton made these choices independent of what was on the page. It saddens me when I'm disappointed by the art of one of my inspirations. But I'm happy the movie is doing well-- it means Burton gets to make another movie. I've read rumors of feature-length versions of Frankenweenie and Vincent. I'd like the former, but I'd LOVE the latter.

I'll support Burton through thick and thin, in hopes that he keeps bringing his ecclectic, moody vision to the screen in original material.