These Are My Friends

The biggest fear in seeing Tim Burton's adaptation of Sweeney Todd was the translation; film is an entirely different beast than theatre. There were newsflashes of songs and scenes being slashed from the show. ("They're cutting the 'Ballad of Sweeney Todd' from Sweeney Todd?!") Okay, Sondheim approved all the cast. Okay, he also approved the cuts of the chorus. And all his music is still present as the underscore. As long as 'Epiphany' is still there in full. It is? Oh good. One must be dubious when it comes to screen versions of theatre, especially with Burton at the helm; he has a habit, to say it mildly, of making interesting choices.

Preface being said, with eyes wide open, what was witnessed was a masterpiece of a film. Burton has truly visualized a "hole in the world like a great black pit" that is Sondheim and Sweeney's London. From the moment one enters this dog eat dog (or man eat man) world, we see clouds constantly blotting out the sun, dark waters churning below the waves, and rats in the streets; we know that this art has been taken care of with loving hands. Albeit those clutching straight razors.

For those with knowledge with the musical, the immediate familiarity of the score comes straight to the front. The chorus of voices is missed, to be sure, but the whole of the music is there, not only underscoring but becomes its own entity, the sprialing, haunting orchestrations drive the audience down the same madness of the rest of the characters in the film.

Purists argue that these movie stars' voices are not up to chops for Sondheim's tough melodies. After all, he is well known for making songs that no one can sing. However, while the songs are the force behind the story, the characters are at the heart; when terrific actors are found, everything else follows behind. This is exactly the case with Sweeney. Translating a huge melodrama into a film seems to reverse the polarity of the characters; instead of music hall broad strokes and comedy, everything is drawn inward - the singing reflects that. Johnny Depp's Sweeney has a harsh edge to his voice, and Helena Bonham Carter is fragile in tone; it doesn't seem like they could fill up a theatre. But that isn't what the film is, we see who these people are, and the music reflects that. Who needs broad strokes and big voices when the audience is there, in the shop, with blood splattered on their nice white shirts?

Sondheim, when originally making this musical, came from the standpoint of "Less is More," which is the style of the revival cast currently on tour. In a way, the film truly succeeds. Of course, London is fully realized from costumes to bakehouses, but the way the audience becomes intimately knowledgable with these people is brilliant in its simplicity. Not to gush, but Depp's portrayal of Sweeney is magnificent and heartbreaking. We see him go from a simple barber (brief, but poinant) to the driven man of rage as dark as the city he returns to. All of his performances are captivating, but none so much as this brooding, epic antihero. His voice is harsh, but it is always touched with such utter sadness and despiration. He is matched by the practicality of Carter's Lovett. It seems that her despiration warrants even more sympathy, but then one realizes that she is purly evil for greed; no reparations for past crimes, simply for want of more money. But she isn't the usual comic relief that usually comes with characterizations, Carter is a surprise treat and is simply amazing in creating a deep and brooding baker, with the same drive as Sweeney. It must be said, however, that she does bring the house down (with the help of amazing filming) during "By The Sea", the one truly comic number.

The cast is further fleshed out with the extremely wise casting of Alan Rickman as Judge Turpin, the other antagonist of the film. He, like the rest of the cast, sings as someone who hasn't held a tune in 20 years, but does it with such conviction and power that it never matters; the notes are all there, but what is more important is the clarity of his character. His performance is matched in intensity but opposite in theme by Sasha Baron Cohen, playing the braggart, Adolfo Pirelli. Largely comic relief, Mr. Cohen brings a quiet practicality to his actions when he is behind closed doors that is surprisingly powerful. Perhaps the true standout of the supporting roles is Ed Sanders as Tobias Ragg. Playing the assistant to Pirelli, and then to Lovett and Todd after his master is called away, he is a ferocious and powerful presence wrapped in a very small young person. His performance of "Not While I'm Around" with Carter is one of the best scenes in musical history.

While Jamie Campbell Bower and Jane Wisener play Anthony Hope and Johanna Turpin/Todd well, their lovers' relationship is severely neutered with the cutting of the script and songs. What is once a brightness and comedic light in this world is now simply awkward; the audience simply does not care for these people who have had so little screen presence. The parts are played incredibly adeptly and with fierce conviction, but it seems like Tim Burton has missed this opportunity. Along the same vein, Timothy Spall is highly miscast as Beadle Bamford. He, like everyone else, is a wonderful actor, but it seems as if he took a cue from Wormtail from Harry Potter and Nathaniel from Enchanted: ugly and coarse rather than slick and corrupted, as the Beadle is traditionally played.

The missed opportunites give a tiny sour note to what is otherwise a magnificent production. Sweeney Todd has always been a force of nature, and it is an extreme pleasure to see something this amazing translated so well.

Do I Like Fish?

It’s here, it is, it is! The ‘rednecks are dumb’ play to end all ‘rednecks are dumb’ plays. San Jose Stage Company is the next in an ever-growing line to produce A Tuna Christmas, the incredibly popular sequel to Greater Tuna (also incredibly popular). One meets and re-meets, through the course of the evening, the various residents of Tuna County, Texas, as they are preparing for holiday contest and plays. With only a smattering of plot more than the first one (There’s a contest this time! And a Christmas Phantom! And is Stanley Bumiller actually getting out of Tuna?!), and roughly the same stale jokes, the true entertainment comes from the two actors playing 22 characters, complete with full costume changes; without two strong actors, the play will fall short of its goal of entertainment.

To call Kevin Blackton and Tim Hendrixson only strong actors is too little praise. These powerhouse performers blast through the wordy scenes and awkward lines with grace and gusto. Every character they have developed is fully formed and realized, adding much needed humanity to the broad humor of the show. Characters fill out the town well; the stand outs seem to be the ones that add a smidge of grace to the show; Mr. Blackton’s Bertha Bumiller, the matriarch of a local family, gives some very poignant speeches about love and past Christmases. Mr. Hendrixson’s Petey Fisk, reporting for the Tuna Humane Society is ever effervescent in his want for a good home for pets. It is obvious to the observer that the two actors are having fun at working hard in making a worn down script into something much more entertaining.

Additional praise must be given to the two dressers, Kat Hepner and Samantha Howell. Aside from a hiccup nearing the end of the show, the changes were done smoothly. The rest of the technical crew helped the show well, from the adorable costumes by Eileen Barnes to the Christmas Phantom scene changes as different trees appear and disappear throughout the show.

A Tuna Christmas is a lot like holiday candy, you shouldn’t really indulge, but you just want to have another piece.

- A Tuna Christmas plays through December 23 at the San Jose Stage Company, http://www.sanjosestage.com/.

Lady Lady. Oh.

42nd Street Moon definetly has been bitten by something wonderful. They have a very unique approach to the art that they create; purely joyful entertainment. The "forgotten musicals" they produce are of course slightly dated (1918 humor! What a hoot!) but the energy and spirit of the cast and music infuse their entire productions with wit, charm, and heart.

Oh Lady! Lady!! is certainly no exception to this rule. In their traditional (and somewhat unneccessary) staged concert format, the songs are lighthearted, plots are simple, and smiles are abundant. Coming from the style of the Princess Theatre musicals, one is never too anxious about the plot and how three couples (+ chorus and supporting roles) are going to turn out in the end. This is a time of unabashed love and committed union, where love conquers all and gosh darn it to everything else!

The show does suffer from some slight style issues. There were times in the play where the heightened stylized actions are not matched by some of the supporting roles, and many references to "young man" and "young woman" could possibly been changed to "man" or "woman"; sometimes suspension of disbelief can only go so far. But director Kalon Thibodeaux kept everything so lighthearted that the show as a whole makes up for any lacking; and the pace raced along, never giving enough time for the audience to check their watches.

What was the true joy of the evening were the performances themselves. The entire cast was tight, and was unique and hard working. Of particular note is a Moon veteran, Bill Fahrner, who gave a tender and incredibly honest streak in addition to his masterful comedy as Hale Underwood, and Meghann May who plays the enginue with a lightheartedness and soft comedy of a young woman in love. The true standout, however, is Michael Cassidy who plays Willoughby Finch, largely the straight man of the show, with incredible comic timing and quirks that are instantly endearing.

For a grand evening out, Oh Lady! Lady!! is a peach to see.

Straight into Blogger - Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium

There are precious few children's films that really stand out from the crowd anymore. More and more of them look like a parade of fart and poop jokes until some concert resolution or young people are smarter than old people because we have imagination or more farting and pooping at the end. Fart and poop have their places in this world, certainly, but when it comes to imagination and originality, it seems rather stale.

Certainly there was a chip on my shoulder after looking at previews of holiday movies coming out, and when I originally planned on seeing Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, the thought, "Oh great, a childen's movie about a toy store, it will just be full of stupid product placement and dumbassness, followed up with farting," ran through my admittedly jaded head. What I experienced, however, was a wonderful evening full of delightful experiences. And just a little bit of product placement.

Filmed from (mostly) the point of view of an omniscent version of the narrator, Eric Applebaum (played by the charming Zach Mills), the story is told through chapters in a book, beginning near the end of Mr. Magorium's time with his Emporium. The action takes a leisurely pace that focuses on Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman), Magorium's apprentice and store manager, and drifts in and out of the magical realm that everyone can see if they only looked for it. To round it all off in the formula, Magorium hires an accountant (a cross between a count and a mutant, according to Magorium), Henry Weston (straight man with a heart of gold, Jason Bateman).

Stock characters aside, this movie is excellent. Dustin Hoffman is amazing in every role he does, and this is no exception. He floats through his scenes (not quite stealing, he's much too good of an actor) giving an air of merriment and intelligence. His relationships to animate and inanimate alike are quite amazing; his grin and love of life was infectious, as is his fatherly affection to Portman, who gives a strong performance of a woman stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Spoiler alert.

Ah, but that's where we come to. Magorium, being 243 years old is quite ready for something different; the accountant (mutant) was hired to put everything in order, and the store was bequeathed to his manager. He has lived his life, and now Magorium wants to die. It is this portrayal of death which truly makes the story shine and become something incredibly unique: Magorium is not sick or crazy or suicidal, he simply has lived his entire life, and is now ready to leave. The decision is made, and it is an incredibly healthy one. One of the greatest cinematic moments is abrout two thirds of the way through; a scene between Hoffman and Portman, no special effects, two characters that love each other so much, two masterful actors communicating.

Spoiler alert ends.

Aside from a few loose ends and a few characters not used as much as they should, this film is charming, beautiful, and poniant. I would recommend it to children of all ages, including adults who think they're done being children. Go expecting something fun, leave with something that has so much more sparkle.