Category: movies

To: Vantage Point and Jumper
From: Moi

Vantage Point, it would be good, since you’re called, uhm, Vantage Point, and you advertise yourself as being a movie about the shooting of a US president from several different — again — vantage points, if you actually kept intact the gimmick which is your entire premise. Omniscient camera angles do not work when we’re supposed to be seeing things from Bob’s perspective or Betty’s perspective. I love how you repeatedly show one person’s viewpoint and they can, at the very same time, see what someone else is doing, too! Wow. Everyone is clearly omniscient here and yet, Vantage Point, you seem terribly blase about your characters’ supernatural gifts. You take them for granted. You know, I took you at your word on the whole “vantage point” dealio and was therefore totally gobsmacked by all of your characters’ unexplained and unexplored omniscience. Oh, and then about two-thirds of the way through the movie, you seem to completely abandon any feeble hold on this “vantage point” gimmick and turn into the most improbable car chase movie ever. And, I would prefer, Vantage Point, if William Hurt were killed off in any movie he makes from now until the end of time, so spread the word, ‘kay? Watching him is like swallowing a whole box of Lemonheads all at once. He’s very sour. Maybe he drinks his own urine. I don’t know. Just get it done, okay??

Jumper. Look, dude. Okay. First problem: You hired wooden-headed pretty boy Hayden Christiansen to be your lead. Now I was sorta willing to give the kid another shot after his memorably awful turn as Anakin Skywalker in whatever Star Wars movies those were a few years back, because, well, maybe he was just miscast or the script was bad or whatever. But no, after this, I realize, it’s him. He deeply fatally sucks. If I come away with nothing else from this movie — and I do come away with nothing else from this movie — I now am armed with the knowledge that he has chosen his career poorly, that people have lied to him and wronged him horribly by encouraging these bland displays, that he’d be great in a career where he simply needs to stand there and say nothing, a Buckingham Palace Guard, for instance.

Second problem, Jumper: You gave your lead a superhero ability, the ability to jump instantly from one place in the world to another, and then you made him an ass. A boring ass, which is much much worse. I think — although I’m still not sure — that we’re supposed to like Jumper Dude (whose name escapes me). I think we’re supposed to root for him, because it appears that the Samuel L. Jackson character and others like him — the “palatins,” or something? — are the villians in the movie. We know this because they’re the religious zealots and religious people in movies are always insane. They’re the ones tracking the jumpers, getting all preachy and fanatical, saying things like, “Only GOD should have this ability,” as they kill their next jumper victim. Their issue with the jumpers is never fleshed out any further. They rant and rave and overact because they’re mad on God’s behalf and that’s that.

Another thing, Jumper. You have clearly set yourself up for Jumper 2. (I won’t be there, btw.) You have a dude with superhero abilities who we are supposed to like and yet, he’s despicable. We see him, after he’s discovered his ability, watching a flood drama unfold on TV. There are people trapped atop a car in the middle of a flooded river. The anchorman says something like, “I don’t think anyone can get to them now.” And Jumper Dude just stands there and watches. I thought it was an odd moment, a disturbing moment. We see Jumper Dude not caring that these people will die. He could jump there and save them, but he doesn’t. He’d expose his ability, but does that matter in the face of this? And you, as a movie, choose to show us his coldness early on and then want us to root for him later? I don’t have a problem with the whole anti-hero thing. That character you root for who lacks the traditional traits of a hero. Sweeney Todd is an anti-hero. He does despicable things, but we understand the reason why. We know his motivating circumstances. We feel for him, even like him. We think, “I’d want revenge in that situation, too.” But I understood nothing about Jumper Dude. I felt nothing for him. He’s not a superhero because he uses his ability selfishly — robbing banks, for instance — and he’s not an anti-hero because I understand nothing about what motivates him. He’s nothing. Well, not nothing. He’s a boring bastard with super powers who’s NOT the villian. I guess. Basically, you’re a movie with no one to root for. No one to care about. The good guys and bad guys are equally repellent. When they were all still alive at the end of the movie, I was completely bereft.

So … there you have it, lame-o movies. Please do better in the future.

Signed,

Moi

Easy-peasy lazy movie meme.

Bold movies you have watched and liked or loved.
Italicize movies you saw and didn’t like.
Leave as is movies you haven’t seen.

I’m not going into big explanations on these. Obviously, there are degrees of like and dislike. But here goes:

The Godfather (1972)
The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
The Godfather: Part II (1974)
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)
Pulp Fiction (1994)
Schindler’s List (1993)
Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)
Casablanca (1942)
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)
Star Wars (1977)
12 Angry Men (1957)
Rear Window (1954)
No Country for Old Men (2007)
Goodfellas (1990)
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
City of God (2002)
Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)
The Usual Suspects (1995)
Psycho (1960)
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
Citizen Kane (1941)
The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
North by Northwest (1959)
The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)
Fight Club (1999)
Memento (2000)
Sunset Blvd. (1950)
Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
The Matrix (1999)
Taxi Driver (1976)
Se7en (1995) Hated this. So disturbing.
Apocalypse Now (1979)
American Beauty (1999)
Vertigo (1958)
Amélie (2001)
The Departed (2006) Oh, I don’t know why. I feel guilty because it won Best Picture. But then so did The English Patient. And I’m right about that piece o’ poo.
Paths of Glory (1957)
American History X (1998)
To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
Chinatown (1974)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
The Third Man (1949)
A Clockwork Orange (1971)
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) Guess I’m the only one.
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)
Alien (1979)
The Pianist (2002)
The Shining (1980)
Double Indemnity (1944)
L.A. Confidential (1997)
Leben der Anderen, Das [The Lives of Others] (2006)
The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)
Boot, Das (1981)
The Maltese Falcon (1941)
Saving Private Ryan (1998) Not exactly “don’t like,” but have deep ambivalence.
Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Forrest Gump (1994) Run, Forrest, run! No, keep running! Away!
Metropolis (1927)
Aliens (1986)
Raging Bull (1980)
Rashômon (1950)
Singin’ in the Rain (1952)
Rebecca (1940)
Hotel Rwanda (2004)
Sin City (2005)
Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)
All About Eve (1950)
Modern Times (1936)
Some Like It Hot (1959)
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) Uhm, saw this long ago and I wasn’t in the mood. I think admitting this is probably a sacrilege.
The Seventh Seal (1957)
The Great Escape (1963)
Amadeus (1984)
On the Waterfront (1954)
Touch of Evil (1958)
The Elephant Man (1980)
The Prestige (2006) I can’t remember which “magic” movie this one is. I saw one of them.
Vita è bella, La [Life Is Beautiful] (1997)
Jaws (1975)
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
The Sting (1973)
Strangers on a Train (1951)
Full Metal Jacket (1987)
The Apartment (1960)
City Lights (1931)
Braveheart (1995)
Cinema Paradiso (1988)
Batman Begins (2005)
The Big Sleep (1946)
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
Once Upon a Time in America (1984)
Blade Runner (1982)
The Great Dictator (1940)
The Wizard of Oz (1939)
Notorious (1946)
Salaire de la peur, Le [The Wages of Fear](1953)
High Noon (1952)
Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi (1983)
Fargo (1996)
The Bourne Ultimatum (2007)
Unforgiven (1992)
Back to the Future (1985)
Ran (1985)
Oldboy (2003)
Million Dollar Baby (2004)
Cool Hand Luke (1967)
Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003) I LOVE the Kill Bill movies!
Donnie Darko (2001)
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
The Green Mile (1999) Eh.
Annie Hall (1977)
Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)
Gladiator (2000)
The Sixth Sense (1999)
Diaboliques, Les [The Devils] (1955)
Ben-Hur (1959)
It Happened One Night (1934)
The Deer Hunter (1978)
Life of Brian (1979)
Die Hard (1988)
The General (1927)
American Gangster (2007)
Platoon (1986) Don’t know if “like” is the word here.
V for Vendetta (2005) Didn’t I go off on this movie on this blog? Blech.
Judgment at Nuremberg (1961)
The Graduate (1967)
The Princess Bride (1987)
Crash (2004/I)
The Wild Bunch (1969)
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)
Letters from Iwo Jima (2006)
Heat (1995)
Gandhi (1982)
Harvey (1950)
The Night of the Hunter (1955)
The African Queen (1951)
Stand by Me (1986)
Kill Bill: Vol. 2 (2004)
Witness for the Prosecution (1957)
The Big Lebowski (1998)
The Conversation (1974)
Little Miss Sunshine (2006)
Wo hu cang long [Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ] (2000)
The Grapes of Wrath (1940)
Gone with the Wind (1939)
3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Cabinet des Dr. Caligari., Das [The Cabinet of Dr Caligari] (1920)
The Thing (1982)
Groundhog Day (1993)
The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)
Sleuth (1972)
Patton (1970)
Toy Story (1995)
Glory (1989)
Out of the Past (1947)
Twelve Monkeys (1995) Can’t remember really why.
Ed Wood (1994)
Spartacus (1960)
The Terminator (1984)
In the Heat of the Night (1967)
The Philadelphia Story (1940)
The Exorcist (1973)
Frankenstein (1931)
Anatomy of a Murder (1959)
The Hustler (1961)
Toy Story 2 (1999)
The Lion King (1994)
Big Fish (2003)
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998)
Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
Young Frankenstein (1974)
Magnolia (1999)
A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
In Cold Blood (1967)
Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
Dial M for Murder (1954)
All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
Roman Holiday (1953)
A Christmas Story (1983)
Casino (1995)
Manhattan (1979)
Ying xiong [Hero] (2002)
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003) Unless this is the first one. That’s the only one I liked. Johnny Depp notwithstanding.
Rope (1948)
Cinderella Man (2005)
The Searchers (1956)
Finding Neverland (2004)
Inherit the Wind (1960)
His Girl Friday (1940)
A Man for All Seasons (1966)
Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

Wow. The ones left as-is give me some good ideas for Thee Olde Netflix queue!

Live-blog. No particular rhyme or reason here, just what strikes me. Might make sense; might not; don’t care. I write off the top of my head. Or it could all be my old nemesis Jack Daniels talking again.

So here we go.

— Well, not crazy about Jennifer Garner’s black dress. Mourning being married to Ben Affleck, one can only assume.

— Ooh, Anne Hathaway is just a lovely little fawn. I love her red chiffony dress with roses draping across the front. Very Greek goddess.

— Katherine Heigel. Oh. Sweet. Mammy. She is so nervous presenting, but she’s just that much more endearing to me because of it. Also: The gorgeousness, the sheer gorgeousness, of that red dress on her. Look at her teeny tiny waist! And her face, all flush with nerves! Okay, Katherine Heigel. Please exit stage left now so the rest of us schlubs can go on living. Also: call me!

— Amy Adams (Enchanted) is fraykin’ adorable. She has to sing a song from that movie without all her little animated critters to help her. (It’s a song from the beginning, where the movie is animated.) I don’t envy her, because out of that very specific context, it’s a bit … odd, but she’s making it work because she’s unself-consciously committed to the out-of-context moment. Also: I like your nose, Amy Adams, so call me!

— Someone comb Cate Blanchett’s hair! Please, I beg you – someone deliver her crowning baby! I’m momentarily uncomfortable and that simply won’t do!

— Sweeney wins Art Direction. Duh.

— Jennifer Hudson to present Best Supporting Actor. Her swollen bosom is swaddled in yards of white draping, is the nicest way I can say it. Javier Bardem is my guess here. Waaaiting …. oh, does anyone else think he — Javier Bardem, with his normal hair — looks like dead Denny Duquette from Grey’s Anatomy? …. just a thought …. ooh, but Tom Wilkinson was so SO good in Michael Clayton. Waiting ….here we go ….. it’s Javier Bardem. Oh, consarnit! Habla ingles, por favor.

— Jon Stewart offers a translation after the commercial. “I believe he told his mother where the library is.”

— Now an “Oscar Salute to Binoculars and Periscopes.” Hahahahahaha!

— Oh, what? A song from that piece of crap August Rush is nominated for Best Song? Did you know Robin Williams played some weird Redbeard Bono in that movie? He did. True dat. Awful true.

— Owen Wilson presenting. You go, dude! I love your nose! Call me! What? No …. no, not for drugs; coffee, sheesh.

— I am zee Frawnch veener of zee Best Live Action Short Feelm. I do not speak zee Eengleesh, so vut Javier Bardem said ony in Frawnch, hokay? Merci beaucoup. Mwa et mwa, mon amies.

— Best Supporting Actress presented by Alan Arkin. Cate Blanchett, I think? She may be busy backstage having her baby. Although I’m crossing my fingers for her getting her priorities straight and combing her damn hair. Ooh, but wait. Amy Ryan in Gone, Baby, Gone. Damn, she was good. Wait again! Changing my mind. Going with Tilda Swinton, actually. Michael Clayton. HA! She got it! Here she comes! Okay. Uhm, she looks exactly like Alfred E. Newman right now. Seriously. But I’m loving her speech. She’s talking about how her agent is the spitting image of the Oscar statuette. “He has the exact shaped head and it must be said … the buttocks.” Hahaha. Now she’s on about George Clooney getting into his batsuit every morning on set, hanging from the ceiling, etc., he’s laughing. Great speech, Alfred E. Newman!

— Jessica Alba’s breasts are molting.

— James McEvoy from Atonement. I could listen to him talk forever. Maybe he’ll call me and we can arrange this posthaste. You know, I have lots of change in a big glass jar, James McEvoy; you could have that, if you just talk. Well, not the quarters. I need those. The dimes and nickels, though, for sure. And pennies. That’s a good deal, James McEvoy, because pennies before 1982 are heavier than they are now and so if you scuff up the sides, the parking meter reads them as quarters. True dat.

Best Adapted Screenplay … hm … I’m saying There Will Be Blood …. wrongo, Peaches. No Country For Old Men.

— Oh, no. Not the president of the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Good. Bathroom break. Cheerio.

— Oh, it’s that whiskey-voiced floosie Miley Cyrus. KA-POW!

— Is there anyone shorter than Kristen Chenoweth? Seriously. She’s a widdle tid. And then that huge singing voice. Oh, she’s singing something from “Enchanted.” Because … why? How? She kicked Amy Adams in the shins backstage and hobbled her?

— Oh, dear. These two people who just won Best Sound Editing – working together, now – cannot come up with a coherent speech. The chick keeps saying, “Oh, I’m blanking” and then the ponytailed dude keeps rescuing her with, “Oh, man, I’m blanking too!” Then they look at each other in horror and you can literally feel the tightening of every butt, everywhere, across the world, even as they speak. It’s a symphony of dreadfulness. You guys rock!

— Wow. Best Actress already. BTW, it’s gonna be Julie Christie, I’ll bet, and I haven’t even seen Away From Her. Just heard everyone rave about it. You know, that movie she’s in about the ‘heimer’s? Can’t quite bring myself to see it. But now … right now … I’m thinking it really could be that chick who played Edith Piaf as a spoiler here. Going with Christie, though. Wow. Spoiler wins. See how my gut wanted to dump Julie Christie like a hot potato just a second ago? Shoulda stuck with that. On the upside for Julie Christie — does she not look scrumptiously beautiful? Day-um.

— Colin Farrell (KA-POW!) introducing a song from Once. Ooh. It’s not substitute singers; it’s the actual people from the actual movie — which you really all must see. Beautiful. Haunting. Okay. I want this song to win. Gossip: These two are – or were – or are – a real life couple. Kind of an age difference here. Not really May-December, but maybe, oh, July-November. He’s 37; she’s 20, pick your own months for it.

— Heeeere’s Jack. You gotta have Jack, dontcha know. The cinematic patriarch of bad boys. A montage of best picture winners here which does nothing but unearth my buried animus for The English Patient. KA-POW!

— Renee Zellweger — with a saucy short haircut and a glittery silver gown — presenting Best Film Editing. Goes to The Bourne Ultimatum.

— Nicole Kidman, all statuesque in black, dripping — quite literally — ropes of diamonds over her ever-swelling pregnancy boobins. You go, girl! Have a country music baby. Much better than a Xenu baby. Oh, she’s presenting an Honorary Oscar to Robert Boyle, who is 98 years old and is sitting at the podium for his speech — which, frankly, is better and more coherent than those two earlier, the composers of the symphony of dreadfulness. See this man, doctors everywhere? He’s a potent argument against DNR, he is. You GO, Father Time!

— Penelope Cruz is here now. Wow. Was she exposed to Jessica Alba backstage? Her bosom is molting too. It’s like some horrible MRSA of molting is going around. These women must be quarantined immediately. I think this is Best Foreign Language Film. Yep. And, look — I dunno who just won. Some foreigner.

— John Travolta. Hairline by Sharpie.

— Okay. Best Song. It’s the song from Once, just as I hoped. Eeeee! Here come our lovers to accept their awards. Oh, his accent. Love him. He just keeps saying “Tanks, tanks, tanks.” You are just precious. Where’s my bag of Werther’s?

— Oh, here’s Cameron Diaz presenting Best “Cinemography,” she says. Sweet Lord. Bring Father Time back out. Please. He speaks better and looks fresher, frankly. There Will Be Blood wins. Eeeee!

— In Memoriam. Always poignant. More so this year. Heath Ledger is shown last. Ugh, still too sad.

— Amy Adams presenting Best Score. There’s just an openness and warmth to her face, a joy to her. I thought the music in There Will Be Blood was weird and wonderful, but it’s not nominated, so why am I talking about it? God only knows why I’m talking about anything at this point. Can Father Time blog the rest of this for me? I am worn to a nub. Oh, Atonement wins here.

— Harrison Ford, Best Original Screenplay. What, none of your famous banter, Harrison Ford? Jeez, what a gyp. Juno wins.

There’s gotta be only two or three left, right? Please God.

— Here’s Helen Mirren presenting Best Actor. Daniel Day-Lewis has to be a shoo-in, doesn’t he? He must. Damn, he was freakin’ amazing. (Oh, but there’s Johnny Depp as Sweeney. ACK! Sentimental attachment there, obviously.) By the way, Helen Mirren looks absolutely smashing. Look at her teeny tiny waist, too! A deep burgundy dress with shimmery lacey silvery sleeves, gorgeous on her. Call me, Queen Elizabeth! Damn. Viggo’s nominated, too. I forgot! Eastern Promises. Oh, he was SO good, scary good. Sorry. I’m all over the map here, remembering how fabulous and rich all these performances were. George Clooney, too. Saw them all except Tommy Lee Jones. But DD-L wins, as predicted. He’s wearing hoop earrings that scream “old church lady,” but I forgive him everything. Now he’s thanking Rebecca Miller — Arthur Miller’s daughter, his wife — and she’s teary and smiling. It’s a sweet moment. Lovely, gracious, short speech. Okay. He just smiles that smile he has and, that’s it, I’m toast — sending him a nice pair of dangly earrings TO-morrow!

— Best Director goes to Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country For Old Men.

— Denzel presenting …. finally …. Best Picture. It goes to No Country For Old Men.

Are we done? I think we’re done!

PHEW. Clocking in — by my watch — at 3 hours, 21 minutes. My nubs are even nubbier.

Congratulations to all the winners!

What? What’s this?? The rest of my “Sweeney Todd” review??

Honestly, I’ve realized I can’t write the review I’d like to write. Not now. Not when so much is going on ’round here. Trust me when I say that I’m completely mentally spastic these days. I have no synapses left. I think in fits and starts. My brain is pudding. And not fresh chocolate pudding with whipped cream on top, either. But like that tapioca pudding you made weeks ago and just found moldering in the back of your fridge. What’s below is the best this puddinhead can do right now. I’m “snippeting” the whole darn thing! Snippeting, I tell you!! And when I’m not snippeting, I’m meandering. Meandering, I tell you!!

Okay. Oh ….

SPOILER ALERT!!!!

Well, only spoilers if you don’t know the story, really.

~ I want to go back to what I said 57 years and 43,000 words ago: I honestly think that Tim Burton has made the best possible movie that could be made of that musical. The movie looks great. Burton captures perfectly that dark lush squalor of Sweeney’s merciless London. Everything is gray, brown, shadowy, grimy. The sky is a constant charcoal smudge. The streets are in desperate need of a sweeping they will never get. The whole atmosphere instantly tells you: There will be no nuns singing and twirling on hilltops in this musical. If that’s what you want, leave now. None of this is surprising, really. Burton is great with dark. The surprise here would have been if Burton had gotten it wrong.

~ The movie is pared down from the musical, as I mentioned in part 1. Entire numbers are cut; many are shortened from their original length. Because no one will sit through a 3 1/2-hour movie musical. Expecting the entire stage musical brought to the screen is unrealistic. Of course, that didn’t stop me. And I’ll comment a little more on these cuts later. Conversely, dialog has been added in place of some of the music because — I don’t know — post-modern people hate musicals??

~ All right. Johnny Depp as Sweeney. He doesn’t look like what Sweeney usually looks like. What I — again — expect in a Sweeney. I’m used to a Sweeney who’s taller, burlier, dare I say, manlier? Depp is not tall, not burly, he’s manly enough, I suppose, but not beefy manly. Not “my mere physical presence is an issue” manly. Not old-style manly where any minute he might sweep you off your feet or just as easily kill you with his bare hands. Not any of these things I generally think of when I think of Sweeney. When I first heard about this movie, Russell Crowe was in as Sweeney. I could kinda see that. Didn’t know if he could sing, but I could understand that casting. He fit my personal Sweeney mold. (And I thought Toni Collette would have made a nice Mrs. Lovett to match him. And she can sing.) When I heard it was Depp, my knee-jerk reaction, to be totally honest was “no way!” The kind of “no way” you say when you really mean “that sucks.” I didn’t think he looked the part. I wasn’t sure he could sing. But I love Johnny Depp generally and I wanted to keep as open a mind as possible. And, you know …. he worked for me. His Sweeney is not this burly menace. He’s a shadow of a man. And, really, after 15 years in prison on trumped-up charges, who wouldn’t be? Depp’s mere physicality is not an issue; it’s what he does with it. He looks like a man who has shrunk, who is nothing of his former self, who has nothing of that person even breathing inside him. Everything that matters to him is lost and the only thing left is vengeance. That’s the most alive thing about him. That quest. I ended up liking Depp’s physical slightness for Sweeney. It added a certain slyness to him; he’s an unexpected serial killer. “Sweeney was smooth; Sweeney was subtle” as the lyrics say. Yes, he has that weird hair — the hair’s not subtle — but lots of people have weird hair and aren’t going to slit your throat with a razor. It’s his face. His eyes. It’s the insanity mixed with yearning — for his wife, his daughter, his old life — that Depp totally nails. You feel it with him, for him. This is a man totally wronged and totally unable to reconcile the wrongs. They’re too great. They’ve taken too much. He’s burning with rage inside but has to appear somewhat functional publicly to ultimately effect his revenge. I loved watching the flow of Depp’s performance. Reigning it in, letting it out. That see-saw. The sly predator, needing to appear sane while a monster rages inside. During “By the Sea,” Mrs. Lovett’s little fantasy number about their candy-coated future together, I was crying with laughter. Literally. Rather than succumb to outright cackling in the theatre, I just let myself shake and cry. There they are, Sweeney and Lovett, sashaying on the esplanade in fancy clothes, Lovett so happy, Sweeney staring glumly at the ground. There they are on the beach, Lovett happy, Sweeney in his striped Victorian bathing suit, staring glumly at the sand. There they are, at the altar getting married, Sweeney glum, hesitant to even kiss her. Depp’s face in those sequences. Priceless. Depp in that striped Victorian bathing suit. I was dying. He is consumed. Possessed. It doesn’t matter what is happening around him. All that matters is what’s happening inside him. Depp’s singing — to me — is secondary and I really can’t believe I’m saying that. I don’t think he sings all that well. It’s good enough, I suppose, but not great. The songs were clearly transposed into higher keys so he could sing them. But his performance is so full, he is so completely Sweeney, he delivers those songs. How well they’re sung technically matters less to me than how well they’re performed. I thought he was mesmerizing. In every way. He made Sweeney — a role that could easily sink into caricature — human. That is Depp’s genius.

~ Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett. I had the same reaction about her as Lovett, initially, as I did with Depp as Sweeney. “No way.” “She doesn’t look right.” “I don’t think she can sing.” Blah blah. But …. I loved her, too. She’s tiny, thin. No robust Mrs. Lovett here. You look at her and think, “Yep. I totally believe she makes the worst pies in London.” Still, she’s kind of consumptively sexy. I thought she and Depp were mirror images of each other. Shadow people. Pale gothic ghosts. Lonely and empty, they are each desperately holding on to one thing, one thing only. He, his revenge. She, her love for Sweeney, a man who doesn’t even see her. These are the things that motivate them and give them hope. Her singing, I think, is less technically capable than Depp’s, but she has this funny, almost offhand way of delivering a song. She doesn’t seem to be consciously performing them. Some of the numbers, like “Worst Pies in London” seem almost like these stream-of-consciousness experiences for her. It’s not SINGING; it’s singing as idle patter. I don’t know. I’m not explaining it well. It’s like she’s singing her diary. Or singing like she’s used to being alone. Or like she’s used to not being listened to because no one’s there. It’s oddly personal and moving. Sort of “I don’t care if you listen or not; I’m just talking to hear myself talk.” She is totally weird and I love her for it.

~ Alan Rickman as Judge Turpin. Well, uhm, they cut his whole self-flagellation number, probably a good idea, but they added a whole scene for him with Anthony, would-be suitor to Judge Turpin’s ward (and Sweeney’s daughter), Johanna. I was bugged by that, thought it was unnecessary — or only necessary to give Rickman a more fleshed-out part. The original script sets the whole conflict with them in a couple of lines. Rickman’s singing is passable, but again, his acting — well, I can’t see straight about him — he’s perfect as the Judge. Really. Appropriately creepy and lustful. His “Pretty Women” duet with Depp is a joy, really.

~ The Judge’s henchman, the Beadle (Timothy Spall). Dude canNOT sing. Worst singer in the show. Blatantly off-key. Luckily, he sings only briefly.

~ Sasha Baron Cohen as Pirelli. A scene stealer, though I’m embarrassed to admit that I was distracted by the package of tube socks someone stuffed in his pants. Let’s not linger.

~ Ah, the young lovers, Anthony and Johanna. MB said the kid playing Anthony looked like the love child of Ashton Kutcher and Claire Danes. He really is a very pretty pony. He was fine. She was fine. Really, there’s not much to say about them because their parts and their storyline were cut drastically. And — here’s a beef I have with the movie — the ending leaves you hanging about Anthony and Johanna. The play does not.

~ Here’s where I have to mention that there are a few things that suffer in the adaptation from stage to screen. Because things like the chorus and certain musical numbers were cut to keep the movie a reasonable length (one assumes), the second act — anything after the song ” A Little Priest” — becomes a bit of an unrelenting blood bath. In the stage version, the chorus steps in at various intense moments, comments on the action, hints at what’s coming, and it’s a kind of breather, almost, from all the slashing and blood and death. It mitigates the damages, so to speak. Perhaps slightly, but that moment is enough. With certain other musical numbers or interludes even, cut from Act Two, what’s left is the weight of all that gory vengeance. It’s a bit of a runaway train at that point. A runaway train full of blood and dead bodies and pies. If Burton decided he needed to “hit the high points” for the sake of time, then he certainly did that, but not being able to take the time to tell the full story makes the collective toll of those high points overwhelming. Again, I understand the necessity. I do. But the movie suffers from the rush of blood — or maybe rush to blood — at the end of it. It loses some of its dark sick humor and becomes more overtly dark and sick.

~ The movie ends abruptly, I think. You don’t see Anthony or Johanna in that very final scene, but you do in the stage version. They run in together, see the aftermath of the grisly blood bath. Not exactly a touching moment between lovers, but you get the sense they will be together, with all that post-traumatic stress giving them something in common at last. The movie leaves you hanging as far as that whole storyline is concerned. The lovers are just kind of dropped. In the final movie scene, Tobias sneaks up on Sweeney and simply slits his throat. Sweeney sinks into death, holding his long-lost Lucy, dead at his own hands. End of movie. Again, this is a moment where I miss the chorus. (Expectations! I can’t get past them!) At the end of the stage version, the chorus comes onstage and sings an epilogue, a slightly different version of “The Ballad of Sweeney Todd” that starts the show. There’s almost a morality tale feel to it, fleetingly. A morality tale with a wink, that is: “To seek revenge may lead to hell, but everyone does it, tho’ seldom as well ….. as Sweeney … as Sweeney Todd.” The bloody dead rise up and join in the singing, pointing at the audience: “No one can help, nothing can hide you; isn’t that Sweeney there beside you? There! There! There! There!” It’s good freaky fun. The movie, on the other hand, just abruptly leaves you with this dark scene of unsparing tragedy. Nothing mitigates the damages in that final moment. You’re left with a bit of a gut punch as you leave the theatre.

~ But, lest you think differently, these criticisms don’t dampen my enthusiasm for the movie. I was fully engaged the entire time. In many ways, it exceeded my expectations and that’s no small thing, for me anyway. It’s a satisfying rendition, minus a few winks, perhaps, but ultimately faithful to the dark audacious vision of “Sweeney Todd.” I honestly don’t believe the adaptation from stage to screen could have been done any better than Burton and company did it. So bravos all around!

Well.

Here we are.

My review of Sweeney Todd.

Oh, yeah. Let me say this: UHM, SPOILERS BELOW!! BEWARE!!

All right. Did me duty. Proceed.

I’ve thought about this for a few days now, the whole thing, and it’s hard for me to be objective. I have such a longstanding personal attachment to the musical that I fear I’m just going to wander about aimlessly here, but I’ll give it a try.

I think I want to start out talking about expectations for a bit.

First, I’m just going to say straight out, up front, get it out of the way: I liked it. I really liked it. I don’t think I can say I LOVED it, unequivocally, because my personal attachment makes me reserved on some level, like if I totally, unabashedly love it, I will have somehow abandoned or betrayed my “first love.” I know it sounds somewhat ridiculous to say, but I want to write this review as honestly as possible and that honesty demands I tell you that I literally can’t see straight when it comes to my love for the original Broadway version of “Sweeney Todd” and, well, the version I was in in Seattle way back in the late 16th century. That’s part of it too, obviously. But I will say this: I honestly think that Tim Burton has made the best possible movie that could be made of that musical. Fans of the musical will go see the movie with expectations that are — now that I’ve thought about it — somewhat unreasonable. I admit I did that. It was a bit unfair. I wanted Johnny Depp to sound like Len Cariou; Helena Bonham Carter like Angela Lansbury. I wanted their looks to change. I wanted to hear Victor Garber’s voice come out of the kid playing Anthony. I wanted every single thing that I love about the musical to be included in the movie. Don’t leave a thing out. Don’t you dare! I think I expected Tim Burton to adopt — telepathically and without struggle, apparently — my personal vision of what “Sweeney Todd” should be. Hear me, Tim Burton! Embrace my genius as yours! Here, I open my boundless brain to you! (I never lack for self-esteem in my delusions.) But I imagine I’m not the only crazed fan guilty of doing that. I did that even knowing that I shouldn’t do that. I know better than that and yet …. emotions, you know. Expectations. They sometimes get in the way of fully appreciating what’s before you right now.

But the stage musical is a play. The movie is a movie. Those two are not the same. Different venues, with different possibilities and different devices that an audience will accept or reject.

Let’s start at the start for an example of what I mean. The start of the play and the start of the movie. At the beginning of the stage musical, the entire Victorian chorus is seen onstage, standing, singing, in your face, some solos, some unison:

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.
His skin was pale and his eye was odd.
He shaved the faces of gentlemen
Who never thereafter were heard of again.
He trod a path that few have trod,
Did Sweeney Todd,
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

It goes on from there, a fairly detailed description of who this person is. This Sweeney Todd you haven’t even seen yet. The lyrics are dark, funny, creepy. The music is eerie. It’s hypnotic. It’s building. If the music doesn’t instantly get under your skin, you, my friend, are already dead. As the music and lyrics build, this mysterious Sweeney is finally revealed, looming and menacing as he sings:

Attend the tale of Sweeney TODD.
He served a dark and a vengeful god.
What happened then — well, that’s the play,
And he wouldn’t want us to give it away,
Not Sweeney …..
Not Sweeney Todd,
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

It’s a whole set-up with a kind of Greek chorus here: Here’s what our guy is like. We’re doing a vengeance play here. And here he is, for a brief second, to frighten you, get your blood pounding. Now, boom, we disappear. It’s a brilliant opening of a musical because — unless you’re the dead person I previously mentioned — you are instantly, hopelessly hooked. You are glued to your seat until the very end of the very last note.

But here is where I confess …….. I was still looking for my Greek chorus opening to the movie.

As the movie started, I heard that music. That oh-so-familiar music. I waited — all silly, giddy — for the singing to start. I mean, there’s THAT music and it goes with THOSE lyrics. They are basically inseparable to me. But there was no singing. None. Not in the opening. Burton did a whole follow-the-red-blood-splatter bit that I didn’t like the first time I saw just 10 minutes of the movie. So I went home, after seeing those glitch-riddled 10 minutes, readjusted my expectations, went back, and liked what he did, even laughed at some of it, the moments of dark humor he put into the sequence.

Because I realized as much as I love the chorus, it wouldn’t have worked in the movie.

The chorus appears throughout the stage musical, commenting, editorializing, building anticipation, and the viewer accepts that device, even loves that device, as I do. We suspend our disbelief for the sake of the story and the experience. Our minds easily surrender to the world presented within the confines of the stage space. We adjust to the limitations, even without knowing we’ve adjusted. Now, true, watching any musical, whether it’s onstage or a movie, involves some pretty major suspension of disbelief. People just don’t burst into song whilst declaring their love or slitting a throat. Just generally doesn’t happen. I mean, would grimy groups of people in Victorian costume break into song, commenting on situations in real life? Uhm, well, probably not sober ones. But with movies, we have this sense of limitlessness. Of a more fully realized world. Movies are filmed on location. Out in the real world. Sets can be entire towns, not just pieces. Special effects make the patently fantastical seem completely real. Because modern movies can do so much, we expect this sort of seamless, limitless experience. I think there’s a feeling that, with movies, everything is doable. Everything that I love — in a book, in a play — can and will translate perfectly, seamlessly, to the screen. But I don’t think that’s true. Some things are best left to our imagination. Some things work best as a stage device. So after thinking about all this, I realize that my beloved Victorian-Greek chorus would have looked idiotic in the movie version of “Sweeney.” Groups of grungy Victorians sliding from the shadows to voice their operatic opinions on the action would have seriously marred that seamless movie reality we’ve all come to expect. They would have looked like some deranged Dickensian carolers popping out of nowhere with no context whatsoever. It works onstage. It needs to stay onstage. I realize that I may be the only person who even reads this tangent — or that anyone who’s read this far may now have gout and a long white beard — but I’m writing this to give myself a kind of talking to, because even as I write this, I know that I MISSED seeing that chorus. That chorus that really wouldn’t have worked. But, still, throughout the entire movie, I knew exactly when a chorus part had been cut. I knew the words. I even started mouthing the words that were “supposed” to be there. And I’m still struggling with expectations. AFTER the fact. As someone with a “Sweeney Tood” obsession, there’s an internal struggle between my emotional expectations and my reason, what’s reasonable, what’s fair.

So I think from here on out, I want to focus on these questions: Is the movie a good, faithful rendition of the musical? Is it a good movie?

(more to come ….)

So.

We saw “Sweeney Todd” today. Don’t worry. This isn’t a review.

So, yes. We saw “Sweeney Todd.”

All 10 minutes of it.

Until the projector malfunctioned or the newbie running the projector malfunctioned — repeatedly.

And we all left the theatre en masse with our hands out for refunds, moaning in collective despair things like how could this happen and this was the one movie I really wanted to see this year and “I will have vennnngeance” and stuff like that.

Oh, how could this BE!!??

“There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit and it’s filled with projectors that are full of sh*t ….”

Still …… the ten minutes we saw? I am drooling. Cannot WAIT to go back and finish it.

I didn’t think it was possible for me to be more excited than I was before, but I AM!

“Sweeney ….. Sweeney …. Sweeney ….. SWEEEEE-NEEEEY!!!”

Marisa has a post up about her Top 5 Thansgiving movies. It’s funny she posted this, because I was just thinking the other day how there just aren’t too many Thanksgiving movies and we need more of ’em! Anyway, go check out her picks and add your own.

THE TRAILER FOR SWEENEY TODD!!

(SUGGESTION: Watch the trailer before reading my thoughts below. I don’t want to influence your experience of it.)

A few things catching my eye here:

I think it LOOKS great. I do. I said that already. I love Alan Rickman, Johnny Depp. I SO want to love this movie. You have no idea. Still …. I can’t help but notice ….

It’s a 2 1/2-minute clip and there is virtually NO singing. We hear Sweeney singing the bit I mentioned before, “I will have vennnnngeance; I will have salvaaaation!” but nothing else. I mean, did I miss something?

There was none of this:

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.
His skin was pale and his eye was odd.
He shaved the faces of gentlemen
who never thereafter were heard of again.

There was none of this:

Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop.
Does a business, but I notice something weird.
Lately, all her neighbors cats have disappeared.
Have to hand it to her!
What I calls,
enterprise!
Poppin’ pussies into pies!

There was none of this:

Do they think that walls can hide you?
Even now I’m at your window…
I am in the dark beside you,
buried sweetly in your yellow hair!

There was none of this:

Pretty women
Fascinating…
Sipping coffee,
Dancing… pretty women
Pretty women
Are a wonder.
Pretty women!

Or THIS:

No one’s gonna hurt you, no one’s gonna dare
Others can desert you,
Not to worry, whistle, I’ll be there!
Demons’ll charm you with a smile, for a while
But in time…
Nothing can harm you
Not while I’m around…

NOTHING. NUH-THING. I know I got swept away there but, damn, Sweeney just SOARS with great music, great lyrics. I mean, them’s just the tip of the ol’ iceberg, there.

When you make a movie of a musical — one that is generally considered the most operatic of Sondheim’s work, no less — how can you make a trailer with only ten seconds of singing?? The show is almost entirely sung!

This, I think, is an ill omen.

Omen.

Ill.

I sat here after watching it a few times and asked myself, “Why, Tracey? Why would they create a 2 1/2-minute trailer for ‘Sweeney’ and wildly de-emphasize the singing?” and I came up with the following three reasons.

1) The moviegoing public, in general, doesn’t like musicals. They’re a hard sell these days. So why not just market the movie as a dark and violent revenge tale featuring Johnny Depp? Everyone loves Johnny Depp. He can open a movie, no problem. Get the butts in the seats and let ’em find out about the music later. By then, the butts will have already plopped down their ten bucks. This seems like a short-sighted solution, but maybe that’s it.

2) The singing isn’t good. This will be bad news for lovers of musicals and Sweeney in particular. The rabid, crazed, can’t-see-straight fans like me. So just market the movie trusting that the crazed fans (like me) will show up anyway (I will!) on the hope, the blessed, shining hope, that the singing will be good. Maybe even, uhm, great. Let ’em find out the truth after they’ve plopped down their ten bucks.

I will pray every night between now and December 21st that this is not true. IT IS NOT TRUE; RIGHT, GOD??

3) The music part of this musical has been drastically cut back, because the caliber of the singing isn’t great. Seriously, it needs to be GREAT — in my opinion — for Sweeney. It is a DAMN. HARD. SHOW. TO SING. My voice has never worked as hard as it worked for Sweeney. I’m not sure my voice could even SING those notes again. I swear. It is a WORKOUT.

Anyway, I notice, watching this trailer, little bits of dialog added that I know aren’t in the original script. This makes me wonder if music has been traded for dialog. If this is true, it’s a HUGE bummer to me. I know I’m an obsessed, rabid fan and maybe people just write off the ramblings of obsessed, rabid fans. (Actually, it goes beyond that for me. Whatever level is beyond obsessed and frothing is what I am, I suppose. That’s just how it is and I can’t help it.) Still … I do know this: Everything you need to know to follow the plot of Sweeney is revealed in song — brilliant songs, dark songs, hilarious, moving songs. If you know the soundtrack, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Some of the most bloodpounding, beautiful music you’ll ever hear. To sacrifice it for more dialog is a crime to me. Flat-out wrong. I hope I’m wrong on this one. I hope I’m wrong on these last two, actually.

I desperately want to be wrong. Please prove me wrong, Sweeney.

(Oh, wait. I forgot: Uh, what is WITH the Elfmanning of the music?? I don’t know what that is for the first minute and a half of the trailer, but it ain’t from the original Sweeney. I’m sorry. I smell an Elfman and I want him to go away.)

Oh, man. Oh, man. OhmanohmanohmanohmanohMANNN! The movie version of “Sweeney Todd” is coming this Christmas and I am literally wiggly with anticipation. But fretful, too. Like smelling-salts fretful, Auny Pittypat fretful. Like I’m not sure it’s gonna be done RIGHT. And, yes, it is a VERY BIG DEAL to me.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before — well, not suure, but mostly sure — but I did a production of “Sweeney Todd” in Seattle years ago. It was a joint production of the Seattle Light Opera and The Seattle Repertory Theatre, so there was a general tingliness in the Seattle theatre community over this upcoming production. At the time, I was a young and feckless college graduate — with a Bachelor’s in Theatehhh, no less. I mean, I was an actress with a piece of paper that proved it, goldurnnit. I was also deeply in love or something with The Weirdo who would later be Fiance #2 and one of our main pastimes — ahem! — was listening to the soundtrack “Sweeney Todd.” Because, basically, lounging around crappy apartments and listening to angsty soundtracks is all part of the initiation rite into the brotherhood of actors worldwide. You dare not call yourself an actor unless you’ve done this, repeatedly, with others, spontaneously singing the parts uproariously together OR spontaneously ignoring everyone else in the room and doing your own thing to the music. This, my friend, means you are a theatre geek, you are ON YOUR WAY, you have earned your right to start treading the boards. Oh, and I had done that. All of that. Obsessively, with “Sweeney Todd.” And all of this added up to an overall fatheadedness that made me brash enough to think I could just mosey on down there and audition.

Uhm, I’m getting far afield here. I’ll save the rest of that story for later. I will! This post was supposed to be about these posters. I want y’all (I am Southern! See my acting??) to tell me which one you like best, mmkay, and I will shove my opinions down your throats.

Sweeney #1

While I like the atmosphere of this one — the huge sloping window, the portrait in the background, the austerity of the room — I don’t like Sweeney’s pose here or the blood on the floorboards. Ooooh, people are being killed here, oooooooh! Ya think? There’s a lyric in Sweeney Todd that goes like this: Sweeney was smooth, Sweeney was subtle, Sweeney would blink and rats would scuttle. Yes, Sweeney WAS subtle. Sweeney was a killer, but he was careful about it. “Set a sort of a scene, he did.” So I don’t care for the blatant look-at-my-crotch pose. It doesn’t work for me. Not subtle, too forward. To me it says, “I am Johnny Depp. Notice my crotch, my chair, my razor. Pay no attention to my Edward Scissorhands wig with the Bride of Frankenstein white streak.” And if Sweeney would blink and rats would scuttle, then I can only imagine that this spreadeagled pose could singlehandedly (singlecrotchedly?) cause the mass migration of the entire rat population of London.

Sweeney #2

This is the one MB and I recently saw in the theater. I prefer this misty Sweeney, walking away from us, razor dangling from his hand. It’s more subtle. More mysterious. Quietly menacing. I feel like if you don’t know Sweeney, you’d look at this image and say, “Who is this guy? What’s that in his hand? What’s he up to?” I like that. I love the mood. Sets a sort of a scene, it does. BUT for me, they ruin it with the giant BEWARE at the top of the thing. I feel the marketing here. I can hear the bunch of guys in suits sitting around a table and saying, “But lots of people don’t know Sweeney. We want them to KNOW they should be scared, that they will want to be SCARED. If they’re not strongly BEWARED, they won’t come and that would be bad and ACK! ACK!” Whereupon, all the besuited dudes start sweating and pulling at their ties and the decision is made.

BEWARE.

BEWARE, goobers!

But that’s just me. What do y’all think? (Okay. Please. Someone just hand me the Oscar, already.)