Dear Mr. Burton,
You stupid lunk. I waited. I waited and waited for months, for that movie to come out On Demand. I was so excited about it. I mean, Tim Burton + Helena Bonham Carter, what could go wrong? Everything, apparently. That movie sucked. It was crap. It took my high expectations, flung them to the ground, then stomped them into powder.
I was hoping for a black masterpiece; The Count of Monte Cristo meets Edward ScissorHands. Instead, you gave me Natural Born killers 1845 with a big dollop of Borat the retarded Italian on top.
First of all:
Johnny Depp should not sing. Neither should Sasha Cohen. Putting either one of these guys in a musical requiring anything more than a piratical "yo-ho!" is just beyond idiocy.
The songs were poorly written, and badly delivered by everyone except Mrs. Lovett.
Maybe the complicated, overlapping tunes sound beautiful when sung in a theatre by trained vocalists, but in the movie they bit. Hard. Limb-severingly hard. And the lyrics were rubbish. This was supposed to be a movie about razors, not hatchets.
Mrs. Lovett's hair was awesome.
There was no winner. I wanted them all to die in the end, but received no satisfaction when they did. My biggest regret is that Johanna and her mealy-faced emo-boi survived, because now there's going to be a sequel. "Johanna, the fallen cosmetologist of Glasgow".
If you were going to make a story that had no heros, why not follow the historical storyline & just make it into a period horror flick? Why did you subject me to an hour and fifty-six minutes of bad singing and nihilistic moralizing?
The only redeeming part of this film was Helena Bonham Carter and her wonderful hair.
You suck, Tim Burton. With an epic suckage.
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