The Tale of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

 

Well before the house lights dim and the orchestra plays its first notes, the actors of Sweeney Todd, which opened last night at the Audrey Herman Spotlighters Theatre, are already roaming the stage (and aisles). Director Alexander D Carney and his cast of eleven (minus Carlos Del Valle, who plays the eponymous “demon barber of Fleet Street”) transform the space into a madhouse, replete with vacant stares, maniacal laughter, and a giddy energy that perfectly sets the evening’s tone.

For Sweeney Todd is the story of Benjamin Barker, whose obsession for vengeance against the evil Judge Turpin—who exiled Barker to Australia “on a trumped up charge” in order to rape his beautiful wife and abduct their daughter—transforms Barker into a madman himself, a perfect Victorian killing machine. Returning to London some fifteen years later, Barker—now disguised as Sweeney Todd—renews his acquaintance with a former neighbor (and admirer), Mrs. Nellie Lovett, and sets to work plotting a most gruesome revenge.

You see, Sweeney is a barber by trade, and Mrs. Lovett sells “the worst pies in London” (her main problem: she lacks a reliable supply of cheap meat) … and when razor meets rolling pin, even those who don’t know the plot can probably guess where things are headed.

If the production at Spotlighters ultimately proves unable to sustain the energy  and inventiveness of those spine-tingling pre-show moments, it nevertheless adds up to an entertaining—at times inspired—evening of theatre. Stephen Sondheim’s magnificent score (in truth, Sweeney Todd is more opera than musical) imposes huge demands on the cast, and for the most part this impressive group delivers.

As Sweeney, del Valle seems at once more human and more tormented than others I have seen—his hulking frame is menacing, to be sure, and there is the requisite crazed glint in his eyes, but they also convey the very real heartache driving this one-time husband and father to his ghastly crimes. Still, for all del Valle’s efforts, Sweeney remains unknowable—whether by us or anyone onstage—but such is the nature of the role, I think, and I don’t know that much more could be done about it.

In contrast, Mrs. Lovett is a great deal readier to invite our sympathies. As Sweeney’s partner in crime (and would-be wife), Andrea Bush maintains her winning smile and considerable charm even while corpse-robbing. However one finally judges Mrs. Lovett, Bush shows us the depths of her unrequited love for the unforgiving barber, and her later scenes with del Valle—when she all but begs him to look up from the past and see her—are particularly touching.

If Bush and del Valle’s singing reached the same heights as their acting, their performances would be beyond reproach. Unfortunately, the demands of Sondheim’s score prove a bit much for them—at least on opening night. By the time he reached his ferocious “Epiphany” late in Act I, del Valle seemed tired and unable to sustain the long, high notes that punctuate Sweeney’s determination to extend his vengeance to all of humankind. Bush also struggled with her solos, particularly “The Worst Pies in London” (our introduction to Mrs. Lovett and, to be fair, possibly the toughest song in the show)—even singing at a considerably slower tempo, she had trouble following the melodic line and articulating every word.

The rest of the company fares much better. As Sweeney’s daughter, Johanna, Eileen del Valle is wonderfully expressive, and her lilting soprano is given quite a workout in her mock aria, “Green Finch and Linnet Bird”—she even manages that lovely little trill that ends the bridge! As Anthony, the young sailor who falls in love with her, David Gregory has a powerful tenor (though his English accent comes and goes, a problem that plagues other cast members as well); his stirring solo, “Johanna,” is one of the musical highlights of the evening.

Jeffrey Coleman is exceptional in the small but crucial role of Adolfo Pirelli, “the king of the barbers, the barber of kings,” and Drew Gaver’s Tobias, the simple-minded boy who comes to work in the pie shop, is full of pathos—Gaver’s haunting “Not While I’m Around” is another highlight. Ashleigh Haddad’s Beggar Woman possesses the best Cockney accent (Gaver’s is quite good too), and a terrific voice to match.

The only weak link comes from Troy Hopper, whose Judge Turpin never seems particularly villainous. Kristen Zwobot fares better as the judge’s toadying henchman, Beadle Bamford. Since the Beadle is typically played by a man, I’m not quite sure what prompted Zwobot’s casting, unless it’s to do with the fact that he hits some extremely high notes, all of which Zwobot nails. She is also center-stage for the most unexpectedly funny scene, a diverting little sequence late in the show called “Parlor Songs.” Mezzo-soprano Kerry Brady and bass Brett Rohrer capably round out the company.

The biggest disappointment comes from the orchestra pit. The rich complexities and nuances of Sondheim’s score (originally orchestrated for Broadway by Jonathan Tunick), have been whittled down for a mere three musicians—Michael Tan (also the musical director) on the keyboard, Brennan Kuhns on the bass, and percussionist Chris Rayman—and they are simply not enough. Too many notes played by too few musicians end up blurring together, and “The Worst Pies in London” isn’t the only number that suffers from a sluggish tempo. The result is that songs that should crackle with fiendish wit and suspense instead drag. Bizarrely, one of Sondheim’s lovelier songs—a trio between Todd, Anthony, and Johanna that comes early in Act Two—has been sped up, and the effect is not an improvement.

The set, designed by FUZZ Roark and CC Levine, is gorgeous, and especially the stage, which looks to have been painted every shade of red imaginable. The red lighting (designed by Roark and Matt Klein) that accents every murder is also effective, as are the grime-coated costumes (designed by Helenmary Ball and Jeannie Dalmas) and make-up (designed by Crystal Soveroski). My only gripe is with the unfortunate blonde wig worn by Johanna—considering the fuss that is made over Johanna’s hair, it’s a shame something a bit more flattering couldn’t be found.

Transitions between songs and scenes are mostly crisp, though at times Carney and choreographer David Gregory struggle to navigate the columns at each corner of the Spotlighters stage. This is especially problematic during the murder sequences, as the columns prevent corpses from being ferried offstage as quickly as possible; they also distract from Mrs. Lovett’s final, horrifying exit.

But such issues are probably inevitable when transferring a show as spectacular as Sweeney Todd to a tiny theater-in-the-round like Spotlighters, and they are minor points when set against the show’s many triumphs.

The Tale of Sweeney Todd … the Demon Barber of Fleet Street is playing at the Audrey Herman Spotlighters Theatre, 817 Saint Paul Street, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m., through April 19^th. Tickets are $18 ($15 for seniors, students, and BTA members). For more information, visit www.spotlighters.org or call 410-752-1225.

 

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