Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Synopsis: In the Victorian London, the barber Benjamin Barker is married to the gorgeous Lucy and they have a lovely child, Johanna. The beauty of Lucy attracts the attention of the corrupt Judge Turpin, who falsely accuses the barber of a crime that he did not commit and abuses Lucy later after gaining custody of her. After fifteen years in exile, Benjamin returns to London under the new identity of Sweeney Todd, seeking revenge against Turpin. He meets the widow Mrs. Lovett who is the owner of a meat pie shop who tells him that Lucy swallowed arsenic many years ago, and Turpin assigned himself tutor of Johanna. He opens a barber shop above her store, initiating a crime rampage against those who made him suffer and lose his beloved family.
Genre: Crime, Drama, Horror
Director(s): Tim Burton
Production: DreamWorks/Paramount Studios
  Won 1 Oscar. Another 33 wins & 75 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
116 min

I have sailed the world,

beheld its wonders

From the Dardanelles to

the mountains of Peru,

But there's no

place like London

No, there's no

place like London.

Mr. Todd-?

You are young.

Life has been kind to you.

You will learn.

There's a hole in the

world like a great black pit

And the vermin of

the world Inhabit it

And its morals aren't

worth what a pig could spit

And it goes by the name of London.

At the top of the hole

sit the privileged few

Making mock of the

vermin in the lower zoo,

turning beauty into filth and greed.

I too have sailed the world,

and seen its wonders

For the cruelty of men

is as wondrous as Peru,

but there's no

place like London!

Is everything all right, Mr. Todd?

I beg your indulgence, Anthony...

My mind is far from easy.

In these once familiar

streets I feel shadows



There was a barber and his wife,

and she was beautiful.

A foolish barber and his wife,

she was his reason and his life,

and she was beautiful,

and she was virtuous.

And he was... Naive.

There was another man who saw

that she was beautiful,

A pious vulture of the law,

who with a gesture of his claw

removed the barber from his plate.

Then there was nothing but to wait

and she would fall,

So soft,

So young,

So lost,

and oh, so beautiful!

And the lady, sir... did she succumb?

Oh, that was many years ago...

I doubt if anyone would know.

I'd like to thank you, Anthony.

If you hadn't spotted me,

I'd be lost on the ocean still...

Will I see you again?

You might find me, if you like,

around Fleet Street.

Until then, my friend.

There's a hole in the world

like a great black pit

and it's filled with people

who are filled with sh*t

And the vermin of

the world inhabit it...

A customer!

Wait! What's your rush?

What's your hurry?

You gave me such a- Fright.

I thought you was a ghost.

Half a minute, can't you? Sit!

Sit ye down!


All I meant is that I haven't

seen a customer for weeks.

Did you come here for a pie, sir?

Do forgive me if me head's

a little vague- Ugh!

What is that? But you'd think

we had the plague-

From the way that people-

Keep avoiding-

No, you don't!

These are probably

the worst pies in London.

But there's no one comes in

even to inhale-

Right you are, sir.

Would you like a drop of ale?

Mind you, I can't hardly blame them-

These are probably

the worst pies in London.

I know why nobody cares to take them-

I should know, I make them.

But good? No,

the worst pies in London-

Even that's polite.

The worst pies in London-

If you doubt it, take a bite.

Is that just disgusting?

You have to concede it.

It's nothing but crusting-

Here, drink this, you'll need it-

The worst pies in London.

And no wonder with the price of meat.

What it is-

When you get it.


Thought I'd live to see the day

men'd think it was a treat

Finding poor


wot are dying in the street.

Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop,

Does a business, but I noticed

something weird-

Lately all her neighbors' cats

have disappeared.

Have to hand it to her-

Wot I calls enterprise,

Popping pussies into pies.

Wouldn't do in my shop-

Just the thought of it's enough

to make you sick.

And I'm telling you

them p*ssy cats is quick.

No denying times is hard, sir -

Even harder than the worst pies in London.

Only lard and nothing more-

Is that just revolting?

All greasy and gritty,

it looks like it's molting,

And tastes like-

Well, pity

a woman alone

with limited wind

and the worst pies in London!

Ah sir, times is hard.

Times is hard.

Trust me, dearie, it's going to take

more than ale

to wash that taste out.

Come with me and we'll get

you a nice tumbler of gin.

Isn't this homey now?

Me cheery wallpaper was

a real bargain too,

it being only partly singed when the

chapel burnt down...

There's a good boy, now you sit down

and warm your bones,

Isn't that a room over the shop?

If times are so hard,

why don't you rent it out?

Up there?

Oh, no one will go near it...

People think it's haunted.


And who's to say they're wrong?...

You see, years ago,

something happened up there.

Something not very nice...

There was a barber and his wife,

and he was beautiful,

a proper artist with a knife,

but they transported him for life.

And he was beautiful...

Barker, his name was - Benjamin Barker.

Transported? What was his crime?


He had this wife, you see,

pretty little thing,

silly little nit.

Had her chance for the moon on a string-

Poor thing. Poor thing.

There was this Judge, you see,

wanted her like mad.

Every day hed send her a flower,

but did she come down from her tower?

Sat up there and sobbed by the hour,

Poor fool.

Ah, but there was worse

yet to come, poor thing.

The Beadle calls on her, all polite,

poor thing, poor thing.

The Judge, he tells her,

is all controlled,

he blames himself for her dreadful plight

She must come straight

to his house tonight!

Poor thing, poor thing.

Of course, when she goes there,

poor thing, poor thing,

they're having this ball all in masks.

There's no one she knows there,

poor dear, poor thing.

She wanders tormented, and drinks,

poor thing.

The Judge has repented, she thinks,

poor thing.

Oh, where is Judge Turpin?

She asks.

He was there, all right-

Only not so contrite!

She wasnt no match for such craft,

you see,

Rate this script:3.7 / 3 votes

John Logan

John David Logan (born September 24, 1961) is an American playwright, screenwriter, film producer, and television producer. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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