Sweeney
showcases the artistic mayhem of Depp &
Burton
by
Susan
Wloszczyna
photos by Todd Plitt
USA Today
December 13, 2007
NEW
YORK—What
would Tim Burton and
Johnny Depp talk about if they
were left alone in a room
for several minutes—with a reporter’s tape recorder
innocently capturing the
private moment?
Would
they compare the relative beatnik
cool of their goatees?
Debate
possible names for Burton’s next
major production, a stork delivery of unknown gender due any day?
Or maybe
congratulate each other on how the
critics are besotted with their sixth, and unlikeliest, collaboration:
an
R-rated film version of the Broadway musical Sweeney Todd:
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, just nominated for
four Golden Globes.
A check
of the tape reveals that the
director and his alter ego got caught in the act of discussing a couple
of
horror heroines of yore: Elsa Lanchester, the shrieking bride of
Frankenstein,
and the more obscure Caroll Borland, who once vamped with Bela Lugosi.
Why? Why
not, given the Goth overtones and
general weirdness that infuses their movies together.
It’s
all the more fitting a topic, given
that the actor now plays a vengeful Victorian-era serial killer who is
filled
with hateful rage after being wrongfully jailed and losing his wife and
baby
daughter.
Moviegoers
eager to see Depp cut throats
and growl Sondheim songs will get their chance Dec. 21, when
Burton’s younger,
gorier, sexier and swifter take on the haunting Tony-winning material
reaches
theaters.
They’ll
find a barber whose customers get a
closer shave than they bargained for. Think Jack the Ripper. Only with
hot
towels and a splash of bay rum.
In fact,
Burton’s approach was inspired by
old horror movies and spooky actors like Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre.
“We
took cues from silent movies,” he says.
“When Johnny walks into the barbershop, you just see the pain in
his eyes. I
find he doesn’t have to say anything. It’s an acting style
you don’t really see
anymore.”
Like a
mad scientist and his monstrously
talented creation, Burton, 49, and Depp, 44, have a kind of psychic
bond that
results in sometimes-bizarre notions that still manage to connect with
the
mainstream public. Even the actor’s horsey teeth and fey vocal
manner couldn’t
keep audiences from buying more than $200 million worth of tickets to
see 2005’s
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
“We’ve
been lucky to usually be on the same
wavelength and like similar kinds of things,” explains Burton,
who, like his
favorite leading man, doesn’t like to get overly introspective
when it comes to
his work or his life.
A
synergistic
relationship
Helena
Bonham Carter, Burton’s very
pregnant paramour of six years and mother of Billy, 4, has no such
qualms.
Depp’s
on-screen partner in crime plays a lusty Mrs. Lovett, the meat-pie
baker who
puts Sweeney’s victims to practical use as filling, and she
gladly dishes on
the director-star relationship as she speaks from her London home.
“They
have a great synergy,” she says. “They
are very like each other. Chosen brothers elected by each other. They
have the
same sense of humor and share a deep respect. They have grown up
together. Edward Scissorhands joined them. They
are both introverts, but very flamboyant when it comes to their work.
That is
their release. They are rebels, anti-authoritarian. They are very age 7
in
their sense of humor.”
But even
in dark times, such as when Depp’s
daughter, Lily-Rose, then 7, was hospitalized with a serious illness
three
weeks into filming, the two stick by each other. The actor suggested
recasting.
Instead, Burton shot Sweeney-free scenes until he returned.
“Thank
God, she was all right,” Bonham
Carter says. “It was really tough. But once it was definitely
over, he was
determined to finish the film and was very ready to come back.”
But
mostly they are like adult playmates,
grown men whose careers pay them to be childlike, at least in their
imaginations. Unlike most male chums, they see nothing wrong with going
shopping together.
The
paparazzi recently snapped them
drooling over Dr. Who and Star Wars
toys at the British geek
emporium Forbidden Planet.
“In
fact, we have to end this interview
right now,” Burton jokes. “We have to run to Bergdorf
Goodman.”
“There’s
a sale on,” Depp adds.
Shopping
is one thing. Broadway musicals?
Not major fans, which makes their involvement in Sweeney
Todd all the more strange.
Jests
Burton: “Oh, when are we going to see
The Drowsy Chaperone? Let’s go 10
times!”
Exclaims
Depp: “Mamma Mia!”
Confesses
Burton: “Often, I’m dressed as
one of the members of Cats.”
Actually,
it wasn’t Stephen Sondheim or
even the musical genre that interested Burton. It was Sweeney
Todd, period. It made him want to do a film adaptation even
before he was a director.
“I
was about 20,” says Burton, who saw the
show on the London stage. “I was a college student still then. I
didn’t really
know what I was going to do for the rest of my life. But I went three
times in
a row, I liked it so much. I just liked the mix of emotion and the
melodrama
and the humor. And the beauty of the music against that imagery, I
thought was
really unique. I hadn’t seen anything like it.”
So why
don’t either of them enjoy other
musicals?
“I
just don’t go out of my way to see them,”
Burton says. “Most are too campy for my taste. They are campy by
nature, just
someone breaking into song. This is more like melodrama, which I guess
is kind
of campy, too. Just not in the same way. It’s something I can
relate to.”
Depp,
who dropped out of high school to be
a guitarist in a punk-pop band, concedes that he likes a few musicals.
But only
if they rock. “The Wall is as far as
I would go. Tommy. Quadrophenia. Then
I ended up in Cry-Baby in 1989, which is interesting.
I didn’t have to sing then. We didn’t have time for any of
that. They got some
guy to sing for me, but I had to dance. Which was the most frightening
part.”
At least
he and Bonham Carter only briefly
waltz in Sweeney Todd. Still, “I did
ask for a stunt double,” he half-kids.
But Depp
was eager to attempt his own
singing this time. Unlike Bonham Carter, who took the traditional route
and
found a veteran vocal coach, he went off with one of his former
bandmates, and
together they found a way to handle the near-operatic numbers.
“When
I first heard his demo, it blew me
away,” Burton says. “He took this real hard music and he
made it his own. It’s
slightly modernized and makes it accessible.”
Depp
isn’t so sure. “I would go back and
try it again if I could right now.”
Bonham
Carter also took baking lessons (“It
was Martha Stewart gone mad”), the better to knead in time to the
music while
belting out “The Worst Pies in London.”
But no
shaving classes for her Sweeney. “I
didn’t have to take throat-slitting lessons, either,”
explains Depp, who
wielded custom-made blades. “And I slit more throats than I shave
people.”
Not that
he really disposed of anyone’s
whiskers. “Only myself in the morning.” Though he came
close with Alan Rickman’s
lascivious Judge Turpin. “I lathered him, which made me very
nervous.”
‘Spectacular,’
says Sondheim
Sondheim
approved of the casting and
conferred on which songs to cut and other changes, slicing about an
hour from
the stage version.
“He trusted me, knowing that I am not an
idiot,” Burton
says. “I think he sensed my passion.”
As the
composer and lyricist told a preview
audience full of highly opinionated Broadway types, “Those of you
who know the show—forget
it. Just go along with it, and I think you will have a spectacular
time. It is
its own animal.”
Speaking
of animals, one of the more
comical highlights of the movie is when Sweeney has a shave-off with
his
preening rival, Signor Adolfo Pirelli, played by Sacha Baron Cohen of Borat fame with the ripest Italian
accent since Chico Marx.
He
nearly upstages the entire movie. Not
with his voice. But with the considerable bulge in his pants. Asked if
Cohen
perhaps shoved a large rodent into his tight periwinkle-blue trousers,
director
and actor laugh and deny any knowledge—although costume designer
Colleen Atwood
has since admitted that “a little quilted thing” was
nestled near his groin.
“He
was just very enthusiastic,” Depp
suggests.
“He
was very excited to do a musical,”
Burton adds. “We tried to cover it up. But he’s just happy
to be there.”
As for
whether Christmas crowds will be
happy to spend the holiday counting the bodies as they pile up in Mrs.
Lovett’s
basement, Burton has his answer all wrapped up with a bow and ready to
go.
“You
leave the theater thinking your life
isn’t so awful, so it’s a time of hope. You know. ‘My
family isn’t so rotten
after all. That turkey wasn’t so bad.’”