Aisle View: More Hot Pies

There are hot pies on display down at the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village. Not just prop pies, for the actors to sample; actual pie and mash for the paying customers. This being Sweeney Todd, they are piping hot and savory. The pop-up location of Harrington’s Pie Shop, being licensed under present-day New York City regulations, though, doesn’t offer any of those “shepherd’s pie peppered with actual shepherd” that Mr. Sondheim so succulently supplied Mrs. Lovett’s establishment on Fleet Street.

This is a pint-sized production of the Stephen Sondheim-Hugh Wheeler opus. (Disclaimer: the pint of stout served with your meat [chicken] pie is 12 ounces, from Brooklyn.) And this is not one of those “gee, wouldn’t it be fun to do Sweeney in a real pie shop?” or “wouldn’t it be fun to do Titanic on a real iceberg?” concepts. Originating producer Rachel Edwards has for years been patronizing Harrington’s Pie & Mash in Tooting (estab. 1908). In 2014 she got up the gumption to ask if she could repurpose the shop at night for a limited run of Sweeney. They gamely said sure, and the success was such that the production—with the enthusiastic approval of Mr. Sondheim—was transported to the West End in 2015 and Harrington’s has now been rebuilt within the Barrow Street.

And there you have it (i.e. the production) in a nut shell. This is an understandably small Sweeney, more or less a truly Teeny Todd. 130 seats crammed into a pie shop-sized space doesn’t allow for much scenery, a large orchestra, or enough voices to sing all those big vocals the composer flavored his score with. Simon Kenny’s set—which consists mostly of the counter upon which the dinner (optionally purchased along with your ticket) is served, and a stairway leading up to the tonsorial parlor (and elsewhere) and down to the deadly bakehouse—works out well enough, although you are likely as not to have actors standing/sliding/dancing on your table. (Hairless patrons be advised that you might well be treated with Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir—or as Sweeney calls it, “piss”—whether you choose to or not.)

The orchestra, it turns out, is no problem at all. Sondheim’s piano score for the musical is richly vibrant—he is far more involved in this area than just about any composer extant—and as played by musical director Matt Aument, thoroughly and thrillingly fills the room. Assorted colors are added by a lone violin (Tomoko Akaboshi) and a sole clarinet (Michael Favreau), and the results fulfill the demands of the score. Yes, I prefer the full Jonathan Tunick treatment; but it wouldn’t work, or fit, here.

Neither is the cast size a problem. Any fan of the show can count off the characters you need to have on the fingers of a hand-and-a-half: Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett, Anthony-the-sailor, Johanna-the-blonde, Toby-the-ragamuffin, Judge Turpin, Beadle Bamford and the Beggar Woman. Plus all those singers who roam about the streets of London. Director Bill Buckhurst has chosen to go with his eight principals, only; when they are not in the spotlight, they stand aside singing the chorus parts. (The only sleight-of-hand comes with the barber Pirelli, doubled by the Beggar Woman.) Given the size of the room and the size of the band, this works perfectly well.

So we have Sweeney with full value, and a full complement of hackles. More than one unsuspecting customer will be brusquely grabbed or startled. At the performance attended, an infirm patron was so visibly disoriented that they almost needed to interrupt the show.

The engagement seems to be an instant hit, so much so that the run—initially announced through August 13—has now been extended through the end of the year. Actors’ Equity allowed four of the UK actors—half the cast—to recreate their roles here; they will be replaced on April 11 by Americans, led by the estimable Norm Lewis.

Which leads us to the only carping we have to offer. Jeremy Secomb makes a fine, startling Sweeney on the cadaverous side. While he might not have the tools to sing the role in a full production, he does an excellent job of it. Siobhán McCarthy has the requisite strength and comedic skills for Mrs. Lovett, but a crucial component seems to be missing; perhaps those insanely glazed eyes we’ve seen from other Lovetts, suggesting the character might be just as mad as the mad barber? (While is it thoroughly unfair and unfortunate, I at times sat there anticipating the magic that Carolee Carmello—her announced replacement—will likely make of it.)

Many of us have had the privilege, since 1979, of seeing multiple productions of the show. Often we can’t help but compare the present performers with their predecessors. (In the best productions, we are so immersed in the action that we momentarily forget the others.) In this case, and for the first time, I found one of the finest performances coming from the Beadle. A glance at the program (which wasn’t distributed until after the show) disclosed that this was Brad Oscar, he who knocked the figurative roof off the house with musical comedy turns in The Producers and Something Rotten! Also highly impressive was Matt Doyle as Antony. The most flamboyant performance of the evening came from Betsy Morgan as Pirelli, who commanded every second she was on stage. As Pirelli, that is; I’m afraid that she was not quite so convincing as the Beggar Woman.

But these are minor quibbles. This pie-shop Sweeney Todd makes a tasty rendition of Sondheim’s masterwork, and serves up the show with style and thrills.

Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s Sweeney Todd opened March 1, 2017 and continues until December 31 at the Barrow Street Theatre