The Demon Barber Sharpens His Razor in DeLand

"Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" at DeLand's historic Athens Theatre. Photo credit: Mike Kitaif.

In the heart of historic downtown DeLand stands the Athens Theatre, designed in 1921 by Orlando architect Murray S. King. Over a century later, the Athens still stands as a landmark of creative art and performance. As time moves forward, the stories told on the stage of the Athens have become more necessary than ever. 

It is crystal clear that the political climate in the United States has become more polarized and violent in recent years. News headlines bombard us with stories of systemic failures and cruel injustices, inciting grief that contorts into anger. For audience members at the Athens, it was very easy to see themselves in the face of Jeremy Hudson, who played Sweeney Todd in the recent production of “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.” Beneath the bloody scenes and maniacal laughter, the production became a mirror of American society and the trauma left in the wake of inequity. I spoke with the assistant director of “Sweeney Todd,” Kori Lusignan, who explained the importance of putting on a show like this in DeLand. “It’s really important to think about what happens to someone who is the victim of a really gross injustice,” Lusignan said. “He’s pulled from his entire life and family and has to just hope they’re okay. When he comes back, he’s dealing with all of that emotion.” 

That grief is the real enemy in the play. While Sweeney wields his razor blade, his grief is the driving force of his story. “I tend to think that grief underlies everything,” Lusignan said. “The rage comes from grief…hopelessness comes from grief, and even the ingenuity and the persistence.” Lusignan herself has faced the insurmountable trial of losing her father to Covid in 2020. Through her pain, she realized that despite the human desire to wonder how things could have been different, it doesn’t change reality. “It doesn't matter if something could have intervened. It doesn't matter if something could have gone differently and I think you see that in so many of those characters, even in characters that are in their own way, not heroic,” Lusignan said. 

In this specific production, lighting became a critical storytelling tool. Lighting director Nick Hogan faced the task of highlighting Sweeney’s character arc. “Throughout the show we see many interludes of different variations of ‘The Ballad of Sweeney Todd.’These interludes are mostly used for narration,” Hogan said. “We chose to light these moments in a dark green — internally we called it ‘ghoulish green’— with stark white uplights to separate them from the main plot visually, as well as maintaining the dark air of mystery and suspense,” Hogan said.

That “‘ghoulish green’ bathed the actors like ghosts, a visual representation of the moral decay taking place. But it was the red lights that brought a sense of fresh horror. “The red lights are a staple,” Hogan said. “They’re used for moments and references to the murders. Audiences love the drama of it all, and we’re happy to oblige.”

To Lusignan, the red lights were more than a symbol of murder in the play. “That red is very much like those moments of rage or chaos or symbolization of those feelings coming on,” Lusignan said. Woven together, the green and red showed the emotion behind the violent actions of Sweeney Todd. 

To Hogan, lighting became a way to guide the focus of the audience as the story progressed. “The kaleidoscope-looking effect — one of my favorite parts — was a star-burst transition from ‘God, That’s Good!’ to ‘Johanna Act 2 Sequence.’ We wanted to shift the tone from bright cheer to sad longing, and pull people’s eyes from the stage to Anthony, who starts singing in the house. People didn’t know where to look at first, and this was a fun, interesting way to shift their eyes exactly where we wanted them,” Hogan said. The Bakehouse scenes were just as important as the moments where Sweeney wields his razor. “We chose to light those scenes entirely in a harsh amber,” Hogan said. “It created a sepia effect that helped keep the audience on edge.”

Lighting was far from the only use of color. Lusignan and costume designer Tamara Marke-Lares worked together to bring touches of Victorian floriology into the play. “We talked to our set, costume, and lighting designers about this floriology idea,” Lusignan said. “Tamara had this muted jewel-tone vibe for the period. She pulled some floral aspects into the clothes. When Lovett comes back in the second act, she’s classy — she’s got that bright purple, like the clematis flower we had talked about for her. It’s not the only touchstone, but it’s there.” The use of flowers, while subtle, hints at the beauty of each character that is hidden behind blood and rage. 

Audiences have long enjoyed Sweeney’s story, partly because of the way that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Humor cuts through the darkness.  “There’s such a funny kind of absurdism in it,” Lusignan said. “At a certain point they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, we’ll just kill people, and then we’ll have meat for pies, and we’re gonna make lots of money.’ That’s gallows humor. That’s how human beings deal with things that are too dark and grave to face,” Lusignan said. Her face lit up as she recalled opening night. “The scene at the top of the second act, when people start to get murdered, is meant to feel shockingly ridiculous and hilarious. Sitting in the hall and hearing people gasp and laugh and cheer every time that chair would go — that was such a delight. It was serious work to make it safe, but that audience reaction was my favorite.” These moments were not just comedic relief. They recognized the way humans look for bright glimmers within the darkest times of their lives. 

The play ends with a reprisal of the song “The Ballad of Sweeney Todd” The words “Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street” finished the time loop that began at the start of the show. The story begins once more, with injustice and pain, much like history repeats itself. “Everybody’s in a situation where something happened to them and the die was cast,” Lusignan said. “Now they have to deal with every situation that comes because of that thing.” That truth haunts the story—that no matter how much time passes, the same sense of injustice that Sweeney experienced in 19th century London still languishes within us today.