Academy’s ‘Sweeney’ could have used more time

Las Vegas Academy of International Studies, Performing and Visual Arts' "Sweeney Todd" is a big, brilliant musical undercut by a director who doesn't seem to have spent enough time with his actors.

Hugh Wheeler's 1979 script gives us a title character who becomes a serial killer after being imprisoned for 15 years in 19th century London. A richly layered score by Stephen Sondheim elevates this thriller to classical status.

This is a tough show, though. You can't fake the singing or the acting, and it's obvious director Glenn Edwards has made too many compromises.

Philip Cerza seems chosen as Todd because he's physically domineering. But the role is written for a baritone, and Cerza is out of his range. He tries to compensate by shouting in such undisciplined bursts that you worry for the health of his vocal cords. Cerza, though, has enormous presence, and you believe in his capacity to hate. This talented actor deserves more careful treatment.

When the angel-voiced Jeff Zicker as Anthony sings of his deep love for Todd's daughter Joanna (Tia Konsur), the actor seems to barely notice the woman.

When Julian Crider as a villainous judge brutally threatens Anthony, Crider speaks in such even tones that you feel certain he's never had a villainous thought in his life.

When Dakota Rakes as the Beadle is singing to the judge, he pushes him in such a buddy-buddy way that you feel Rakes doesn't have a clue what kind of subservient character he's playing.

The sloppiness seeps into the chorus, whose members often seem to be faking attitudes.

The exception to all this posturing is Jayce Johnson as Pirelli, a devilishly loony and self-promoting snake-oil salesman. Johnson takes such delight in the flamboyance of the role that we can't help but giggle every time we see him. His voice is immaculately tuned in to the spirit of his character, and his singing instrument is strong, direct and pure.

Technical values are exemplary (except for the erratic lighting), but it's obvious everyone needed another week or two to smooth out glitches.

You can easily enjoy the vocalizing, the music (a 42-member orchestra) and the bigness of it all. But it's the ever-important small moments that are missing. I suspect this may have to do with a director wanting so badly to do something big and great that he rushed through the details of making it honest.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.