I have a slight confession, I know most people regard
Sweeney Todd as Stephen Sondheim’s masterpiece and I do love it, but I would
place it behind Company, Into the Woods and Follies in my appreciation of the Sondheim
canon. That said, we had been totally blown away by this production in
Chichester last year, where row C side stalls had cost £15 and were bookable in
advance, some may say I’m tight, I say careful. As I am verging on the ancient,
I had previously witnessed Michael Ball tackle serious roles as a youngster (both
him and me) in Les Miserables, The Phantom of the Opera and Passion, before he
became “Mr Musical Theatre” of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Hairspray and Radio 2
fame. I also had fond, but hazy memories of Imelda Staunton’s turn as the
Baker’s Wife in Into the Woods over twenty years ago and she had completely
stolen the show in A Delicate Balance at the Almeida last year. Neither of them
had disappointed at Chichester, with Ball unrecognisable as Sweeney Todd, the bloodthirsty
barber hell-bent on revenge, and Staunton malevolently comic as Nellie Lovett,
the opportunistic pie-maker with an unrequited devotion to Sweeney. This
transfer was well deserved, especially considering the lacklustre response to
Sweeney’s short-lived West End debut in 1980, which bagged the Olivier for Best
Musical, but not the audiences.
As luck would have it, some old friends that we hadn’t
seen in donkey’s years tweeted that were also going, so we met up in the
Adelphi’s Jessie Matthews bar as soon as it opened and, fuelled by several
vodka & tonics, reminisced about the good old days (the 1980’s), with me
constantly breathing in and berating myself for not yet starting the
post-Christmas diet (I’ll start on Tuesday once the Easter eggs have been
demolished).
Entering the auditorium, the ensemble are already on
stage, in character and mooching about the ominously grim set, rising up into
the rafters with the back walls of the theatre visible through a semi-circular
metal grid of walkways. The action has been bought forward from Victorian
London to the 1930’s post and pre-war depression and this suits the mood of the
piece perfectly, as Michael Ball’s Sweeney, deported to Australia on a trumped
up charge by a judge that wanted to get his hands on both his wife and daughter,
returns to wreak his own form of justice.
However, behind every mad, bad man there is an even madder,
badder woman and the tension of this truly great production, which has
unbelievably got even better since its’ Chichester incarnation, lies between
Ball’s brooding brute and Staunton’s lovelorn schemer, neither of whom let anyone
or anything stand in their way, with Mrs Lovett egging Sweeney on to even
greater depravities in the hysterical act one finale, A Little
Priest. As the body count rises and her cannibalistic pies become a roaring
success, this reaches its’ zenith, or nadir depending on which way you look at
it, once she persuades him that the orphan they have taken in has uncovered
their secret and should also be dispatched, immediately following one of
Sondheim’s most touching paeans to compassion, Not While I’m Around.
While the two leads are sensational, and Staunton’s
attempts to woo a disinterested Ball are both hilarious and pitiful, the two young
actors playing Sweeney’s daughter Joanna, Lucy May Barker, and her suitor
Anthony, Luke Brady, who I had found just too drippy to be convincing in
Chichester, are now superb and I was totally involved in their plight, rather
than just wishing Ball & Staunton would return to centre stage. Both are
gorgeous with beautiful voices and I reckon we’ll be seeing a lot more of them
in the West End.
As Sweeney discovers the fate of his wife, the full
extent of Mrs Lovett’s deception is exposed and in a terrifying climax just
desserts are served.
A bloody brilliant night out, career defining for both
Ball and Staunton and one of Sondheim’s most complex moving scores with smart
witty lyrics and a book that grabs you by the scruff of the neck and never lets
go. This is only a short run, as we have the delights of the Whitney Houston jukebox
musical The Bodyguard to look forward to at the Adelphi in the autumn, so if
you want to see how great musical theatre can really be, make sure you see
this, even at £95 you won’t be disappointed.

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