
Mind you, it wasn’t all bad - there were some fabulous performances from the supporting cast, notably Timothy Spall, Alan Rickman and (the genuinely funny) Sacha Baron Cohen; and the set design was marvellous too – the unremitting squalor of Mrs Lovett’s Pie Emporium was a masterpiece, and the grime of the London streets was straight from Hogarth (slightly different era I know, but you get my drift). It was a delight to see Depp’s pretty face twisted and snarling with menace; and of course Bonham-Carter who (as ever) plays battiness with alacrity, looked gorgeous (although you won’t forget her final scene in a hurry).
Notwithstanding that, I suddenly realized about half way through the film that I don’t actually like musicals. And Sweeney Todd is, after all, just that. Is that meant to excuse it perhaps? Not in my view it doesn’t.
But anyway, back to reality. I have to think very seriously about getting some exercise today. I went for an invigorating swim on Saturday, but apart from that I’ve done nothing but raise a glass to my lips all weekend. And struggling to the bottle bank this morning with a sack as weighty as one of Sweeney Todd’s dead bodies, I’ve suddenly realized where all my money has gone. A physical and financial ruin. Oh, pity me. Right, now where did I put that corkscrew...?
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