This was supposed to be Tim Burton's “comeback” movie, but from what I saw he ain't back just yet. Don't get me wrong. The visuals in Sweeney Todd are sick and twisted and everything I hoped for as an old fan. And obviously, the storyline is cool enough to secure an R rating. But enough with the singing already!

I won't lie. I've enjoyed a musical or two in my life, and I expected to enjoy this one. There are a few macabre numbers that fit the film well. But then there are others that conjure up little songbirds and destroy the entire atmosphere of this movie. One particularly revolting scene involves Johnny Depp and Alan Rickman softly singing a duet more worthy of Donnie and Marie. To make things worse, they do it twice.

I can't knock the actors. Of course, Johnny Depp is the perfect “demon barber” and Alan Rickman plays a damn good creep. Helena Bonham Carter is a charming Cockney cannibal, and Sacha Baron Cohen nails it as the quack Italian barber. But again, the singing! Ugh!

While the theater kept the movie completely out of focus the whole time, this did not cloud my judgment—only killed my eyes. I feel like Tim Burton should have updated the music for this movie, like he did for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (which flopped). What Sweeney Todd needs is more metal!

The film fluctuates between cool and unbearable throughout—and the ending, well, it'll spoil itself. But despite the gratuitous amount of singing, there was more than enough blood to keep me entertained.

by Kyle Timlin