In Billy Wilder’s 1959 classic Some Like It Hot, Jack Lemmon’s character (or his drag counterpart ‘Daphne’) is tirelessly pursued by Osgood, an old millionaire who hasn’t realised that he is, in fact, a man. In the last, iconic scene, when Lemmon finally reveals his gender, Osgood replies that “nobody’s perfect”. A similar, well-meaning misunderstanding affects Komische Oper’s new production of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd under the direction of Barrie Kosky. Because of its misgen(d)ering, and despite James Gaffigan’s conducting, the Komische Oper’s latest attempt at musicals leaves something to be desired.

In the programme notes, Kosky explains that one of the issues with staging Sweeney Todd in Germany is the peculiarity of its dark British humour. Drawing comparisons with Shakespeare’s Macbeth, the director emphasises the musical’s sombre atmosphere, whose tensions find an outlet in irony and sarcasm. This cruel, suffocating world is transposed on stage with minimal settings and hardly any props: printed backdrops in shades of grey recreate an unidentified city, with only Mrs Lovett’s bakery and Todd’s barbershop above being three-dimensional and walkable. At times, characters are left standing in front of a bare black background, stage lights alone marking their presence. By Kosky’s admission, this is devised in opposition to Harold Prince’s original production, whose attention for detail exposed the distress and misery of Victorian London. Unfortunately, this opposition – if welcome – does not lead to an alternative interpretation, rather creating a void that actors have to fill. In its structure, Sweeney Todd traces a downward spiral that grows increasingly hectic and bloodthirsty as it approaches the end, and a production that maintains the same tone throughout inevitably falls flat. If, like Kosky remarks, the musical doesn’t have to be “a piece about capitalism”, we are still left wondering what it is meant to be about.
Lights and shadows were also to be found in the cast. While it was not what one would usually associate with Todd’s febrile temper, Christopher Purves’ full, round baritone brought out the character’s melancholic side, making him surprisingly close to his distant operatic sibling, Rigoletto. Such a clean, lucid portrayal of Todd arguably made the character even more disturbing, especially during “My Friends”. However, no Sweeney Todd can stand on its legs without a razor-sharp Mrs Lovett. Dagmar Manzel’s performance suffered from a partial mischaracterisation. While a passing comment in the programme notes mentions Angela Lansbury’s “lack of depth” in the role, this Berlin-made Mrs Lovett visibly toned down her quirks and softened her edges towards a more domestic direction. Manzel did a good job at portraying the woman’s resilience and loneliness, smearing her part and interspersing it with snarky moments (“A Little Priest”). But this roughed-up singing only met the role halfway, leaving behind some of its more cutting, charming aspects.
As their wholesome counterpart, Alma Sadé’s Johanna and Hubert Zapiór’s Anthony both embodied their types – Sadé exhibiting a clear soprano, easy in the high register and fitting for its bird-like enterprises (“Green Finch and Linnet Bird”), Zapiór contributing with the dreamy light baritone. Jens Larsen and James Kryshak made for an unsettling pair as Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford. One with his deep bass and the other with a piercing tenor and falsetto, they marked the two extremes of the musical’s vocal range, signalling their unpleasantness and corruption. Tom Schimon, clearly at ease in the repertoire, portrayed a roguish, catchy Tobias, side by side with Ivan Turšić’s grotesque, buffo-esque Pirelli.
On his part, conductor Gaffigan highlighted the almost operatic quality of the score, paying attention to its timbral qualities and motivic weave. Through the Komische Oper’s orchestra, Sondheim’s harmonies and themes came to the foreground, showcasing the work's quality if perhaps falling short of sharpness during some of its most vicious moments.