Match Made in Hell

The biggest surprise in the Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club’s production of Sweeney Todd, directed by Cary P. McClelland ’02, is not the post-apocalyptic set or the reframing of the story as young Tobias’ narration, but the reinvention of Sweeney Todd himself.

Traditionally, Todd is portrayed as a commanding force—his mere presence terrifies. Here the demonic barber, played by Benjamin D. Margo ’04, is a child in a monster’s body. The loss of his wife to the sexual deviance of Judge Turpin (George F. Broadwater ’04) has left him spiritless and empty. Upon his first entrance he sits on the front of the stage, his right arm in a sling—a physical disability that mirrors an internal one. His mission, to avenge the destruction of his family, emerges from a mind crippled by years in exile and already steeped in dementia.

There are moments when this interpretation of the character works well, particularly early in the second act, with his tender “Johanna” and a chillingly funny episode involving chocolate cake.

Unfortunately, the weakening of Todd also makes the character at times incongruous and, worse, uninteresting. The text too often calls for him to use wit, intelligence and logic, making it unbelievable that he could so deftly educate Anthony in wigmaking, arrange his daughter’s rescue from bedlam and lure the judge to his death chamber. Margo is even prevented from enjoying the brilliant humor in an abbreviated “A Little Priest.”

The greatest problem with the interpretation, though, is that it does not allow Todd a believable arc. Todd can’t snap during his “Epiphany” because he has already snapped before the story begins; the scene becomes more a temper tantrum than a turning point.

Weakening Todd’s character is a choice that allows the show to increase the strength of his partner-in-cannibalism, the quick-thinking and manipulative Mrs. Lovett, played by Emily S. Knapp ’03. Knapp, who gives the most brilliant performance to grace the mainstage this year, handles her numbers (particularly “The Worst Pies in London”) with perfect comic timing and a warm—if occasionally weak—voice.

Because Margo’s Todd is no match for Knapp’s hard-hitting Lovett, their relationship becomes less a partnership than an attempt by the latter to manipulate the former. In effect, the story has been stolen from the title character and given to Lovett, who fights an obviously doomed battle to dominate a man whose extreme monomania ultimately destroys them both.

This new look at the partnership is a fascinating experiment. As Lovett cleans a lonely table after failing to gain Todd’s devotion, we feel the twinge of pain behind every clink of every plate she dumps in her bucket. Though Knapp makes Lovett mesmerizing, the character cannot break out of the text’s relatively static mold and carry the play on her own.

What is lost in this reshuffling of the musical’s center is fascination with Todd’s journey, which still remains the center of the plot. Rather than enjoying the ironic beauty of “Pretty Women,” we wonder why Todd takes so long to swoop in for the kill. With an unchanging Todd, the plot’s development seems as mechanical as the production’s impressive set.

Some of the reconceived characterizations meet with more success. Allowing Tobias (played winningly by John Keefe ’01) to narrate gives the musical a beautiful circularity it otherwise lacks. Keefe’s charm, versatility and vocal talent make his performance one of the evening’s highlights.

This Tobias is more sophisticated than in the conventional interpretation, setting the stage for a more believable flirtation with Lovett. Yet McClelland’s staging curiously backs away from this romance and the sexual triangle it might establish.

Two more traditionally conceived characterizations are particularly well rendered: the Anthony of Matthew V. Anderson ’03 and the Beggar Woman of Catherine B. Gowl ’02.

While Anderson’s “Johanna” could benefit from more passion, his vocal delivery is more than worth the price of a ticket (even when it’s not comped). His reputation as one of Harvard’s finest tenors is well deserved, and he conveys his character’s wholesomeness consistently and believably.

Meanwhile, Gowl finds in her role a passion and humor that only an actress of her skills could unearth. Her and Anderson’s interaction while he tries to gain the attention of the beautiful Johanna (Boston Conservatory’s Robyn Kemp) is hysterical.

The production is aided by a set design so massive that it demands comment. Designed by Nhat Bui, Jason Klimonski, and Younia Kowal (all from the Graduate School of Design’s class of ’04), it is a steel-and-aluminum hell.

Combined with a brilliant lighting design by David Corlette ’96, the set keeps the narrative on the edge of reality, underscoring the story’s destructive progress while capturing the cruelty of sunlight in a deadly Arctic winter.

This production of Sweeney Todd has much worthy of praise, including professional quality performances, music and production values. it is also laudable for approaching a well loved piece of musical theater from a new angle. It is simply unfortunate that the angle offers not a revealing new look, but rather a distorted partial view.

A weak and ultimately inconsistent reinterpretation of Todd’s character makes it impossible to understand, nevermind sympathize, with his motivations. The result is that the audience is left impressed by what it sees and hears but ultimately disconnected from the humanity of the characters themselves—a humanity that lies at the heart of the beauty and the horror that is Sweeney Todd.