Neil and I had a great anniversary; we went out for dinner at a fabulous Greek restaurant in Alphabet City called Pylos, where I stuffed myself full of savory moussaka: ground meat set off in herbs and a hint of nutmeg, interspersed with perfectly-textured eggplant, and topped with creamy potato and bechamel sauce light and airy as a meringue.
That said, we then went to go see Sweeney Todd, which is giving me nightmares. I therefore shall inflict my opinion of said movie on you, dear readers ;)
The movie is almost unremittingly dark. Unlike the live productions of the play, the dark humor of the play ("shepherd's pie peppered with actual shepherd") doesn't feel like it actually help us to swallow any of the horror of what's happening. It generally only serves to underline the essential tragedy of the characters' lives.
I suppose that's not right, really. "Tragedy" isn't really what the movie, or the characters in it, portray. In a traditional tragedy, there is a mistake made somewhere, that eventaully causes the hero's downfall. Here, the mistake happened years before, when Benjamin Barker had his wife stolen from him and raped by the judge, and when he was sent off to rot for a crime he didn't commit. When Mrs. Lovett, who had loved Barker from afar, decided to simply not rent out the room above her shop that Mr. Barker and his wife had occupied, despite the fact that she could have desperately used the money.
When the movie shows Mrs. Lovett dreaming of an idyllic future life with Todd, it's supposed to be funny, I think, that the black-and-white caked-on makeup of the couple is in such stark contrast with the warm colors of the places she imagines. It's supposed to be funny that Todd is only barely paying any attention to her.
It's not funny. It's just sad, and I felt drained and horrified at the end of the show.
Don't get me wrong, though: there is a place for an audience that's horrified and a little scared, in movies. No Country for Old Men (possibly the best movie of this year) showed an in-depth characterization of a cold serial murderer, and I was drawn in by the story of his murders.
However, unlike with No Country, we don't really have any sympathy for the victims, and feeling sorry for the killers of the story doesn't quite sit right.
Partially, I suspect that this is because I don't think that Burton balanced his movie production of Sweeney correctly. In the productions I've seen before, Anthony the sailor, and his love for Joanna, are meant to serve as a contrast for Todd's broken, love-induced madness. In this movie, (1) Joanna's voice is tinny, depthless, and poorly cast for the "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" song, making us far less sympathetic towards her (2) Anthony sees Joanna once under a window and falls for her, then he has his own sort of love-induced madness when he decides to steal her away. That madness makes Anthony far closer to Todd and his post-prison insanity, and ... what moral are we to take away from this? That you can see someone once (and I think that we get more buildup of Anthony's love in the original three-hour long production of the play), and that that will then make you insane because of love? That love, therefore, is something that will make you crazy? That certainly seems to be the theme in Todd and Mrs. Lovett's "romance," in Todd and his lost wife's romance, and in Anthony's love for Joanna. It doesn't seem like there's any way for love in this production to be healthy or good, and if there's never an example of "good" that's not also "immature and somewhat insane" shown in a story, you start to wonder what the point of getting yourself all worked up is.
In fact, the cinematography that Sweeney gets good reviews for -- a monochromatic London starkly contrasted with the warm, golden scenes that show Todd's relationship with his lost wife -- actually underline the idea that the love between the couple is artificial and perhaps insane to begin with. The contrast is *too* stark, too unreal, too insane.
The one example of love in the movie that's done well, and that feels somewhat pure -- no bullying, no hint that people see each other as someone to kill over -- is the love that Mrs. Lovett shows Toby, the boy she hired away from Pirelli (who Todd killed earlier). Unlike in other productions, Helena Bonham-Carter shows actual tenderness and affection for Toby. There's a moment of real sharing between the two. Then she leads him off to be killed...
... which just leads to Toby having seen Todd kill Mrs. Lovett at the end, and then Toby leaping out to kill Todd himself.
I don't feel terribly satisfied with all of that, somehow. Should I feel like Toby's the most sympathetic character?
That said, we then went to go see Sweeney Todd, which is giving me nightmares. I therefore shall inflict my opinion of said movie on you, dear readers ;)
The movie is almost unremittingly dark. Unlike the live productions of the play, the dark humor of the play ("shepherd's pie peppered with actual shepherd") doesn't feel like it actually help us to swallow any of the horror of what's happening. It generally only serves to underline the essential tragedy of the characters' lives.
I suppose that's not right, really. "Tragedy" isn't really what the movie, or the characters in it, portray. In a traditional tragedy, there is a mistake made somewhere, that eventaully causes the hero's downfall. Here, the mistake happened years before, when Benjamin Barker had his wife stolen from him and raped by the judge, and when he was sent off to rot for a crime he didn't commit. When Mrs. Lovett, who had loved Barker from afar, decided to simply not rent out the room above her shop that Mr. Barker and his wife had occupied, despite the fact that she could have desperately used the money.
When the movie shows Mrs. Lovett dreaming of an idyllic future life with Todd, it's supposed to be funny, I think, that the black-and-white caked-on makeup of the couple is in such stark contrast with the warm colors of the places she imagines. It's supposed to be funny that Todd is only barely paying any attention to her.
It's not funny. It's just sad, and I felt drained and horrified at the end of the show.
Don't get me wrong, though: there is a place for an audience that's horrified and a little scared, in movies. No Country for Old Men (possibly the best movie of this year) showed an in-depth characterization of a cold serial murderer, and I was drawn in by the story of his murders.
However, unlike with No Country, we don't really have any sympathy for the victims, and feeling sorry for the killers of the story doesn't quite sit right.
Partially, I suspect that this is because I don't think that Burton balanced his movie production of Sweeney correctly. In the productions I've seen before, Anthony the sailor, and his love for Joanna, are meant to serve as a contrast for Todd's broken, love-induced madness. In this movie, (1) Joanna's voice is tinny, depthless, and poorly cast for the "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" song, making us far less sympathetic towards her (2) Anthony sees Joanna once under a window and falls for her, then he has his own sort of love-induced madness when he decides to steal her away. That madness makes Anthony far closer to Todd and his post-prison insanity, and ... what moral are we to take away from this? That you can see someone once (and I think that we get more buildup of Anthony's love in the original three-hour long production of the play), and that that will then make you insane because of love? That love, therefore, is something that will make you crazy? That certainly seems to be the theme in Todd and Mrs. Lovett's "romance," in Todd and his lost wife's romance, and in Anthony's love for Joanna. It doesn't seem like there's any way for love in this production to be healthy or good, and if there's never an example of "good" that's not also "immature and somewhat insane" shown in a story, you start to wonder what the point of getting yourself all worked up is.
In fact, the cinematography that Sweeney gets good reviews for -- a monochromatic London starkly contrasted with the warm, golden scenes that show Todd's relationship with his lost wife -- actually underline the idea that the love between the couple is artificial and perhaps insane to begin with. The contrast is *too* stark, too unreal, too insane.
The one example of love in the movie that's done well, and that feels somewhat pure -- no bullying, no hint that people see each other as someone to kill over -- is the love that Mrs. Lovett shows Toby, the boy she hired away from Pirelli (who Todd killed earlier). Unlike in other productions, Helena Bonham-Carter shows actual tenderness and affection for Toby. There's a moment of real sharing between the two. Then she leads him off to be killed...
... which just leads to Toby having seen Todd kill Mrs. Lovett at the end, and then Toby leaping out to kill Todd himself.
I don't feel terribly satisfied with all of that, somehow. Should I feel like Toby's the most sympathetic character?
no subject
Date: 2007-12-23 06:51 am (UTC)Although I felt that the total non-attempt at realism in the killings tempered the dark nature of the show to some extent. I mean, how seriously can you take it when the killing is portrayed by ridiculous spraying of some form of red liquid that didn't look even remotely like blood. Not that it wasn't still disturbing, but this was slightly comic. As was the cheerful music underneath for a large portion of the killings (at least the killings of one-shot characters we haven't seen before or since.) Still disturbing, but comic enough to be tempered a bit.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-24 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-23 08:10 am (UTC)