Josh Groban’s ‘Sweeney Todd’ Broadway revival shocks and awes
For theater fans, their favorite shows exist in an overlapping multiverse — more Everything Everywhere All At Once, less Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse. Bear with me; I’m chiefly a movie critic, but first and foremost, I was once a theater kid who grew up adoring Sweeney Todd. The first production I saw of this Stephen Sondheim classic was a small-town college’s staging, where a friend of mine played The Beadle. I had little idea what to expect as I sat in those flapping wooden seats. But by the time he fell through a trap door, stage blood trailing down his neck, I was officially in love with the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.
Since then, I’ve sought out Sweeney Todds in every form: the live recording featuring Angela Lansbury from the 1982 national tour, twice more on stage — including a production in a modified pie shop — and then repeatedly through Tim Burton’s movie musical version, which woefully bleeds out the humor in favor of gothic brooding. Then, of course, like any theater kid who came of age in the Napster era, I’ve scrounged recordings of the show’s songs from greats like Patti LuPone. All these voices and visions culminate in my head like colorful tissue paper dolls, overlapping, adding depth by their differences. As I see a new one, I relive them all!
And it’s with all these visions of love, regret, and blood that I walked with sky-high hopes into the Sweeney Todd revival currently on Broadway. (It’s since been nominated for eight Tony nominations, including Best Revival of a Musical.) There, I cackled, dropped my jaw, and gasped as the cast and crew presented a tale familiar yet freshly realized, thanks to some impeccable casting and superb staging.
Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.
In 19th-century London, a ship rolls into port, carrying a romantic young sailor named Anthony Hope (Jordan Fisher) and a soured misanthrope who goes by Sweeney Todd (Tony nominee Josh Groban). They are an unlikely pair of friends and a splendid pair of foils, sweet and savage, then and now. For long ago, Sweeney was a loving husband and father, before the cruel Judge Turpin (Jamie Jackson) threw him in prison and drove his wife to ruin. When Sweeney arrives at his long-lost home, he finds Mrs. Lovett (Tony nominee Annaleigh Ashford), a fast-talking widow who laments her lack of “wind” while winding up for a wowing introduction number, full of lyrical twists, turns, and sustained notes.
He’s in need of a place to ply his trade as a barber. She’s in need of meat for her “worst pies in London.” A bit of fate (or bad fortune) and a dark imagination leads to a sinisterly sustainable solution: Kill the clients who come in for a shave upstairs, and feed them to the unwitting diners below. It’s the cruelty of class warfare wrapped up in a scathing satire, dressed up as a two-story business plan. But things get complicated as Sweeney learns his grown daughter Johanna (Maria Bilbao) is in need of rescue.
Annaleigh Ashford makes her mark as Mrs. Lovett.
Sure, the show is named for Sweeney, but Mrs. Lovett’s got the best jokes and the songs that are most fun to quote. She’s an iconic character, with her horned hair buns, bawdy humor, and unrelenting lust for a serial killer. Following the likes of Lansbury, LuPone, and Helena Bonham Carter, Ashford walks in the footsteps of giants. And yet her Mrs. Lovett is positively exhilarating.
Props to heralded Hamilton director Thomas Kail and Tony-nominated choreographer Steven Hoggett, who give Ashford ample room to lean into the deeply dark comedy of this merry murderess. There are beats of slapstick from the very start, introducing Mrs. Lovett as a ridiculous woman who’s got the gift of gab and dangerous charm. Even as she calls her food repugnant, she coaxes Sweeney to try a pie. And like him, from the moment she chirps, “Is that not disgusting?” she has us eating out of the palm of her hand.
Whether in tense moments with Todd or the orphan boy Tobias (Stranger Things‘ Gaten Matarazzo) or amid the dancing company, she shines with her savage wit and pitch-perfect comedic timing. A highlight among many is when Ashford turns a bow to a gentleman into a flowing slide down some stairs, a bit that goes on longer than you’d expect, egged on perhaps by a rapturous audience’s roars of laughter. It’s the kind of committed physical comedy that would make Carol Burnett proud. And all of this silly splendor has its perturbing payoff in the third act, where all of Mrs. Lovett’s charms cannot save her from the fires of her hellish decisions. When she sings grimly to Tobias, your heart may crack into tiny, scorched bits.
Josh Groban is an unusual yet stirring Sweeney Todd.
A man etched by agony, this musical eponymous anti-hero has been played with shades of stoic disassociation, brooding melancholy, and frightening fury. Josh Groban, an American singer known for easy listening or playing the romantic hero in shows like Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 and Beauty and the Beast: A 30th Celebration, is not scary as Sweeney. Not even when his baby face is swaddled by a full, dark beard.
For some, this might be a dealbreaker, but there’s a unique horror to Groban’s take on Todd. His voice won’t go to those grumbly places of his predecessors. Even as he sings of slitting throats, there’s a crystal clearness to his tone. This I found distinctly unnerving, because in these refrains you can hear the family man Sweeney was long ago. No flourishing flashback is needed to picture him cradling his infant daughter and kissing his lovely wife. Their memories are apparent in the way he sings about them and their loss. This Sweeney is not a menacing monster as soon as he lands. That not only makes Mrs. Lovett’s attraction to him far easier to understand, but it also makes his fall feel more tragic and less inevitable — even as we know it is.
Johanna and Anthony are no longer the weak spot of Sweeney Todd.
To be frank, the soppy love story between the young lovers has always been the bit that’s bored me, pretty much whatever the production. Johanna’s ditty about caged birds is achingly on-the-nose in its metaphor, and typically sung in the kind of trilling that — while befitting her standard portrayal of delicate femininity — has always hit my eardrums like an ice pick. That Anthony is oft cast to be her valiant double, bright-eyed and earnest with a chipper voice to match, hasn’t helped me ship them. This Sweeney Todd changed my mind.
Jordan Fisher has appeared in a slew of teen-focused titles, including To All the Boys: P.S. I Still Love You; he also voiced Robaire in Turning Red‘s onscreen boy band, 4*Town, as duly noted in his Playbill bio. Simply put, Fisher brings an established contemporary feel to this character who should be crush-worthy. He sings with a passion that ignites the lyrics of “Johanna,” leaning into their yearning. Meanwhile, Maria Bilbao is sensational as the imprisoned princess. Making her Broadway debut, Bilbao plays Johanna less like a fawning, fainting angel among devils, and more like a lusty teen girl, awkward and overeager to escape her cage and run off with the hottie who’s come to her window.
Bilbao’s body language is not of a seductress but of a girl crushing so hard that she can’t control her limbs from bursting forth in childish excitement. Within this frenzied physicality is a carnal rebellion against the repressive rules and creepy machinations of her guardian. And when her energy meets with Anthony’s yearning, their chemistry is exciting, frying the tiresomely chaste vibes that have so long made these lovers a snore.
Gaten Matarazzo underwhelms as Tobias.
Sweeney Todd fumbles in star power when it comes to the Stranger Things fan favorite. At just 20, Matarazzo is already a storied Broadway performer, having appeared in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Les Misérables, and Dear Evan Hansen, in which he took on the title role. But here he doesn’t quite click.
Matarazzo’s voice is strong and strives hard as the comically kicked-around ward of the snarling Pirelli (a diabolically sharp and funny Nicholas Christopher). He pines convincingly for the love of the fitfully maternal Mrs. Lovett, particularly in “Not While I’m Around.” But his vulnerability feels feigned. It’s a major challenge of this role, which typically is filled by an adult playing a child. Tobias Ragg is meant to be a street urchin who has some street smarts but is unquestionably naive, blind to the depths of the evil before his very eyes. Matarazzo is not convincingly a scared kid, and so his scenes never cut quite as they might, which is most evident in a finale that seems tailored to appease his fans with some extra spotlight on Tobias. (The night I attended, there were fleets of teenagers who were giddy in anticipation, then rapt in attention throughout the show.)
Thomas Kail’s Sweeney Todd is a devilish dream that demands to be seen.
This casting quibble aside, I was in awe of this revival of Sweeney Todd. Kail’s cast is overall extraordinary. Groban stretches and brings new colors to the bleak character. Fisher delivers the breezy swagger of a modern dreamboat, giving a lift to an oft-overlooked romantic subplot. Bilbao is enchanting as a Johanna who is less damsel and more daring, tapping into an intriguing authenticity of adolescence. And Ashford is a rousing revelation as Mrs. Lovett, facing up against an intimidating line of iconic actresses to carve out a space of her own with relish and ruthless rambunctiousness.
Beyond the performances, the pacing is masterfully mindful, allowing breath for jokes that allows Sondheim’s relentless and witty wordplay to hit fans new and old. The staging pushes and pulls the ensemble across spare but convincing thoroughfares, up stairs, down bridges, and into basements with clear geography. The blocking plays divinely, even to the theater’s balcony, where cheap seats don’t mean bad seats. (I can confirm.) Finally, Hoggett’s curious choreography hooked me from the first, when the ensemble urged us to attend while in huddle, rising and falling together as if riding on a wave-tossed ship. Throughout the play, they rise and fall, attending the tale in grisly chorus and mesmerizing motion.
Through its performers’ prowess and panache, Sweeney Todd grabs us by the throat, holding our attention, catching our breath, and making us cry out — all the way through that final curtain call. Simply put, this revival is astounding, enthralling, and not to be missed.
