PH and I were watching "Sweeney Todd" last night. Interesting work by Tim Burton. Extraordinarily gory, but it got to the point that it lost all its impact because the scatter and splash of blood was so unrelenting. On the other hand, the marvelous song "A Little Priest," a meditation on the flavor of men of different professions as filling for Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, was quite good. I had sung this with a friend who is a professional musician several years ago, to great acclaim (or at least no rotten tomatoes). Oh so tempting to use it for a seminary entertainment of some sort...
This says something about the perversity of my sense of humor, I suppose.
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