Theater review: Actor’s Express delivers a solid ‘Sweeney Todd’

8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Through Feb. 28. $30-$60. Actor's Express, King Plow Arts Center, 887 West Marietta St. N.W., Suite J-107, Atlanta. 404-607-7469, actors-express.com.

Bottom line: Imperfect but very impressive.

Stephen Sondheim’s “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” is a formidable work of art.

On whatever scale, whether staged in a grand Broadway playhouse or a small theater with limited resources, it requires rigor and ambition to pull off.

Just the score itself calls for a trilling, birdlike soprano; an achingly tender tenor; a massive baritone and a company of performers who can summon the foggy miasma of 19th-century London, where the vengeful barber and his meat-pie-maker-in-crime cook up their dreadful plot.

So I’m happy to report that under the direction of Freddie Ashley, Atlanta’s Actor’s Express gives the Sondheim masterpiece a pretty close shave. Sure, there are a few bumps and scratches along the way. But no one should dismiss the considerable amount of sweat and toil that goes into delivering this impossibly dark tale of love and loss, passion and desire, madness and horror.

Perhaps the best news about this production, which is as admirable as it is uneven, is the eloquence and craft of Kevin Harry’s Sweeney.

I’ve seen some pretty fine Sweeneys in my time, from Brian Stokes Mitchell to Michael Cerveris. All of them have played up the torment and rage of the character. Harry, on the other hand, is a more human figure. His take is thoughtful, calibrated, multidimensional, and he has a voice like a velvet hammer. “He was,” as Mrs. Lovett would say, “beautiful.”

Deborah Bowman, as Mrs. Lovett, has a more baroque approach.

Much like her Blanche DuBois in Serenbe Playhouse's "A Streetcar Named Desire" last year, she is twitchy and intense. Too much so, at times. With her crazy-expressive eyes and golden-age Hollywood glamour, Bowman seems to excel at portraying desperate and pathetic females. Yet there is a fine line between craft and caricature. An ideal Mrs. Lovett displays a tender, maternal side that I don't get in Bowman's scenery-chomping.

I was also disappointed that the configuration of the stage — a long rectangle with the audiences on either side and most of the pivotal scenes at either end — blocked my view of both Harry and Bowman at key moments. Set designer Shannon Roberts envisions a nice fairly minimal set, but the configuration, from an audience’s perspective, is flawed.

That said, choreographer Bubba Carr uses the empty space in the middle to create some marvelous dances for the crowd of lurching, lugubrious lunatics.

As Johanna, Kelly Chapin Martin is the perfect embodiment of dewy innocence — delicate prey for the depraved Judge Turpin (the very fine Michael Strauss). Martin has a beautiful lyric soprano voice, but alas, she sometimes sounds a little warbly up in Johanna’s cage. She’s also unfortunately outfitted in a mishmash of fashion by Erik Teague (penny loafers and an almost ’50s look, except for the Middle Eastern motif of her skirt) and a bad wig. (The text specifically describes Johanna’s hair as yellow, and it is.)

As her suitor, Anthony, Benjamin Davis is wonderful — lots of great acting detail; a gorgeous, keening voice; youthful energy and charisma. Glenn Rainey is also in top form as Beadle Bamford, and Stuart Schleuse’s Pirelli is wonderfully flamboyant. As Tobias, Joseph Masson is a delightful and angelic presence — a terrific young actor even when his singing isn’t the strongest.

Back to my original point, this is not an easy show to master. But there is enough fascinating work here to make it essential that we attend the tale.