More Brecht than Broadway, Stephen Sondheim's musical thriller about the barber unjustly transported to Australia who returns 15 years later to find his wife driven to her death and his daughter the ward of the evil, lecherous judge who sentenced him, is not what you'd call a jolly night out. Not one to think of having a late supper after, either.
This is a cut-throat evening of bloody brilliance that is a cross between a Greek tragedy and a Penny Dreadful. Sondheim has never written more bleakly or mordantly than about this Victorian world, a swirling social cesspit sick with the smells from the bakehouse of Mrs Lovett, whose pies have mysteriously gone from the inedible to the succulent overnight, and the rotting carcass of class and privilege. Its message is succinct: "The history of the world, my sweet, is who gets eaten and who gets to eat."
Sweeney himself is, of course, that fascinating figure: the victim turned predator. What begins as a revenge drama, a quest to right a terrible injustice, turns into a splatterfest. Sweeney likes killing. He makes Hannibal Lecter seem quite kind.
The strength of the evening comes from the curious conjunction of horror and comedy and music and lyrics that are constantly on a razor's edge as they try to undercut each other. Sweeney serenades his razors as if he has just been reunited with a long lost lover and his murders are conducted to the sweetest, most heart-aching, melody.
As the National discovered almost a decade ago, this is a chamber musical, and the resurrected New Wolsey theatre is an intimate enough space to make this the close-up experience it needs to be.
Ellen Cairns' design, clever though it is with its cage motif, is a little too specific and fussy and adds to the odd moment when Peter Rowe's production looks as though everyone might suddenly break into a chorus from Oliver!
The production is at its best when at its most simple and spare, particularly at the start and finish when the cast faces the audience and sing in an accusatory manner that implicates us all.
It also has a trump card in the shape of Paul Leonard who not only sings fantastically, but who also subtly marks the shift in Sweeney from vengeful tragic hero to psychotic serial killer who really loves his work.
This is a big, bold, brave choice for the re-opening of a theatre and it bodes well for the future. Now it is up to the local community to decide if they want a theatre.
The choice is quite clear: use it or lose it. Sweeney Todd should help concentrate their minds.
• Until February 24. Box office: 01473 295900. Then touring to Theatre Royal, York, February 28 to March 10, and Mercury Colchester, March 20 to 24.
