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And why not? Wheeler and Sondheim's powerful Grand Guignol adaptation of Christopher Bond's penny dreadful–inspired play depicts a Victorian London society that's literally poised to eat itself alive thanks to poverty and corruption, and does once the titular murderous barber begins his killing spree and his partner-in-crime Mrs. Lovett starts baking his victims into meat pies. Harold Prince's original production famously supercharged that setting to emphasize its social-slavery aspects even more with the Industrial Age, represented by an onstage factory, providing a towering central presence. So it's not that much of a stretch for Price to achieve the same basic goals on a smaller and distinctly 21st-century scale—think of it as Occupy Fleet Street, perhaps—that literally breaks down the clichés and tropes of the "big-star concert" this evening otherwise absolutely is. From the opening seconds, when the performers systematically toss aside their de rigueur black script books, knock over the display stands and planters that "class up" James Noone's maze-like platform set (which is crowned with a street-art backdrop), and rend their formal-wear garments (from costume designer Tracy Christensen), you know you're somewhere that the traditional rules don't exactly apply. This notion is enforced throughout as well, with a number of references made to conductor Alan Gilbert's (excellent) instrumentalists, entrances and exits made through the auditorium, and a trombone that, against the odds, doubles as a meat grinder. This spin is explosively innovative (and far more coherent than John Doyle's high-profile actors-play-instruments take on Broadway nine years ago), but it's perhaps most notable for showing that Price isn't willing to sit on his own directing laurels. He's directed a few Philharmonic Broadway concerts in recent years, including Company and Candide, but kicked off the current string with another Sweeney Todd in 2000. That production, which starred George Hearn as Sweeney and Patti LuPone as Mrs. Lovett, was a smash, but has contributed little more than surface-level ideas to this lighter, more playful one. But such a departure ensures that what's on display live through Saturday night, and has already been tapped to appear on Live From Lincoln Center at some future point, will not please everyone. Those who feel that both Wheeler's book and Sondheim's songs demand a certain weightiness will likely be disappointed; and unchecked outrage probably awaits those for whom guttural ugliness, of presentation and of voice, are critical requirements. Messy as this Sweeney Todd is in some ways, it's still a "gala" and thus cleaner than any stage production pursuing the story rather than the "event" could get away with.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, Christian Borle and Jeff Blumenkrantz smash all concepts of haughty barber Pirelli and the oily Beadle. Borle and Blumenkrantz are terrific comic actors, and have no trouble eliciting many infrequently seen entertainment nuances (with Borle more manic and Blumenkrantz more subtle), but they can't inhabit the roles' total musicality: The stratospheric high notes they require are well beyond Borle and Blumenkrantz, who sound overtasked to hit them even in falsetto. Kyle Brenn is younger than most who play Pirelli's assistant (and Mrs. Lovett's eventual ward) Tobias, with his Playbill bio stating that he's in the tenth grade. He sings well, occasionally tentatively, but offers no complexity—there's no way to infer who Tobias is from what Brenn does onstage. Much the same is true of Australian singer Philip Quast; the dynamic baritone (he was, once upon a time, a remarkable Javert in Les Misérables) is so laid back, even reluctant, as the dastardly Judge Turpin that he doesn't register as much of a threat. (It's worth mentioning here that at Wednesday night's performance the Beggar Woman was played by Audra McDonald—yes, that one. Her singing and acting in the tiny role were superb, but she's rumored to not be playing all performances.)
If you want those you need look no further than his Mrs. Lovett. Film star Emma Thompson, most recently acclaimed for her turn as P.L. Travers in Saving Mr. Banks, is right at home, bringing a delightfully psychotic daffiness to the woman who both disposes of Sweeney's victims and holds a few important secrets of her own. At once airy and effervescent but realistic, she projects the proper sense of a woman who's been beaten down by the world but somehow managed to shrug and even laugh it off. If Thompson's voice, which is firmer than you might expect if not especially rangey, is better suited to the comic patter songs "The Worst Pies in London," "A Little Priest," and "By the Sea" than the smoother and more legato passages, she does full justice to both the music and the story. For any Sweeney Todd, that's what matters most, and Thompson is emblematic of both everything that's right and everything that's wrong with this one. You're not going to find wall-to-wall lush vocals or adventurous acting choices from everyone—at least not at the same time—and Price's fascinating, fractured vision is hardly destined to become definitive. But for a four-day reimagining targeted squarely at audiences who've already seen this musical every imaginable way, it's a credible departure that is never less than compelling even if it also doesn't approach perfection.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, A Musical Thriller
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