“In short, and above all else, I didn’t just love it – I Mrs. Lovett!… I wouldn’t suggest booking in for a shave but I INSIST you buy a ticket to see this production”
Vincent Andriano
4.5 stars
Sydney Opera House
Playing to 27th August
Sweeney Todd has moved his demonic Fleet Street barbershop down under to the Sydney Opera House for an outstanding and truly
wonderful rendition of this classic musical. If anyone can transform the Penny Dreadful parable of a banished barber vengefully returning
to 1700’s London to kill and bake his victims into pies into a broadway musical, it’s the genius minds of Stephen Sondheim and
Hugh Wheeler. Their marriage of intriguing narrative with superb score and lyrical wits is unparalleled, not only gifting the world with
this funny and frightening, time-honoured masterpiece, but had me whistling “have a little priest” all the way home.
The brilliant Stuart Maunder (Director) has proven that our little (oft unsung) corner of the globe rivals crème of the crop talent. What an
honour it was to get to watch this show! Every member of this cast was exceptional. The ensemble was in such sensational sync that I can’t shower them with enough encomiums. Their harmony, not just musically but also acting and player’s chemistry was a fantastic feast for the audience. Ben Mingay in the titular role is both imposing and powerful, from his glorious rumbling baritone that roars rousingly through the listener, to his mountainous, haunting, more-haggard-than-Hagrid appearance, he perfectly captures the tortured man turned monster. Mingay commands your attention from his first steps on stage to the last note sung, and you won’t want to look away. No less spectacular was Antoinette Halloran as Sweeney’s Lady Macbethian counter-part, Mrs. Lovett. With her comic genius and songbird vocals, Halloran was one of the greatest strengths of an already very strong show, as she straddled the high demands of such a character with marvellous aplomb. She was the morally-depraved entrepreneur and opportunist, sexually charged desperate lover, and woefully downtrodden would-be mother all in one, and was surely having as much fun doing it as we had watching!
Honourable mentions must go to the fabulous Kanen Breen as the deliciously slithery and sycophantic Beadle. And also the wonderful Benjamin Rasheed as the mischievous, snake-oil-salesman Adolfo Pirelli may have only been short-lived but made its mark as a laughout-loud and richly vocal stand out.
It might sound redundant given the plot, but this production shone a disturbingly bright light on the descent into madness of not only the
main characters but the world around them. Beautiful attention was given to the sheer torture of all who were entangled in this twisted tale
— one notable scene being when the consummate Dean Vince as Judge Turpin staying on his knees beneath a spotlight while self flagellating, perfectly battling, in song and character, selfrighteousness piety against lascivious temptations. Also Margaret Trubiano’s Beggar Woman was a treat to the senses, switching between hilarious bursts of sexual propositions and then seamlessly into her angelic voice to exude the soulful heartache of a ruined life.
The magnetic mania bled all over the stage. Phillip Lethlean’s fantastically ominous lighting design gave me goosebumps, particularly as the ensemble stood front of stage to sing with only their pale faces illuminated, like animated cadavers or looming ghosts. Roger Kirk had outdone themself as both set and consume designer, constructing a near visceral gloom with the Industrial Age set of brick, wooden scaffold staircases, rusting irons and a permeance of smog stains. Kirk’s costumes are seemingly plucked from the era, with notable demarcations between the classes, from formal, parasols twiddling high-borns, to the dingier, filthier wear-what-we-can-afford commoners. The ensemble’s quick change from meagre Londoners to mental asylum inmates by merely stripping on stage was inspired and wildly effective.
Jim Atkins’s sinister sound design in tandem with conductor Simon Holt mastery was exquisite. I warn you, however, while I appreciate
Atkins’s artistic choice to add an deafening electronic screech whenever a murder occurred (probably to engender further discomfort
to an already harrowing text) it’s piercing repetition started to grate by the end. And though there were a few delightfully distressing blood
projectiles, I did feel a little left wanting. Maybe it’s a side-effect of modern day audiences being so desensitised to gore, but part of me
was expecting some clever stage craft blood bath for such an infamously slash-heavy show like Sweeney Todd.
In short, and above all else, I didn’t just love it – I Mrs. Lovett! For a damn good slice of this treasured and timeless pie, I wouldn’t suggest
booking in for a shave but I INSIST you buy a ticket to see this production of ‘Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street’, playing at the Sydney Opera House, Drama Theatre, from 22nd July — 27th August.
Vincent Andriano, Theatre Now
