Sweeney Todd: Take Tums

Sweeney Todd: Take Tums

The title credits for the movie version of the Broadway play "Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street" were designed by a group credited as "Thing." The thick rivers of blood oozing in the streets during the film's opening musical prelude appear to have been made from some thick latex-like material. It does not resemble "real" blood. But the rivers of gore prepare us for the more realistic blood to follow. Or not.

Does Johnny Depp have the chops to handle the Stephen Sondheim songs? (Not that any of those songs are particularly memorable.) There isn't one song from this musical that you will "remember" or "know" or leave the theater humming. In fact, if you leave the theater without barfing, you'll be ahead of the pack. Take Tums, a barf bag or both. It is one grim flick.

Johnny's singing? Ok. Acting. Ditto. Oscar caliber? Not so much.

Johnny resembles a female version of Elsa Lanchester in "The Bride of Frankenstein." Tim Burton, the director, does what he does best, which is to create weird, artsy parallel universes known for their fantastical sets (think "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," "Edward Scissorhands" or "The Nightmare Before Christmas"). Depp's singing doesn't put him in Sinatra's league, but he "acts" his way through his songs just fine in this tale of revenge against the "bad guy," a judge named Turpin, played by Hollywood's favorite villain, Alan Rickman.

Almost the only other recognizable face in the crowd (unless you count Helena Bonham-Carter who is Burton's real-life squeeze and mother of his two children who plays Sweeney Todd's accomplice, Mrs. Lovett, the maker of the pies which contain the meat from the duo's human victims.... a role Angela Lansbury created on Broadway), is our boy Borat, AKA, Sacha Baron Cohen.