Depp and Carter in “Sweeney Todd”

This season’s non-standard holiday masterpiece was definitely “Sweeney Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street,” a fascinating piece of cinema directed by Tim Burton, who inherited the story from playwright Stephen Sondheim. It’s certainly a hit among critics, whose reviews, collected on RottenTomatoes.com, are an impressive 86% positive. This is especially surprising for a film that’s so gory and cynical it could be considered a juvenile slasher of a movie.

I agree with the positive reviews, but it’s important to look at the levels of achievement that make the film good. I think the first level, and what you might call the hook, is the show’s complete unexpectedness. A gothic London tale, offered right at the height of the holiday season, may scream “A Christmas Carol,” and even more, it’s a musical, so it’s saddled with some of the most debilitating stereotypes in the culture industry.

Burton, with the help of Sondheim’s glorious script, manages to turn both of those expectations on their heads, and this is what attracted many of the positive reviews from critics. The film’s unflinching gore and complete cynicism fly in the face of both Christmas and musical theater, and the film allows its audience a horrific insight into the marginal possibilities of both media. The artificial (sugarcoated) fantasies of the Christmas season and musical theater are the perfect meat for Burton and Sondheims’ grinder.

But anybody can make a shocking little film, right? Claws on a cultural chalkboard don’t make a movie really good, nor worthy of overwhelmingly positive reviews in the press. I’m of the opinion that Burton’s vicious approach was a good way to get attention, but that the film’s merit lies elsewhere.

This merit — the substance that makes the story worth thinking about and appreciating — is really in the thematic levels beneath the absurdly bright blood and Depp’s howling rage. The characters’ stories, including Toby’s, Ms. Lovett’s, Anthony’s, and even Sweeney Todd’s, are actually about finding hope in a totally hopeless world. In Sweeney Todd’s case, it’s the hope of complete surrender to darkness. In Mrs. Lovett’s case, it’s unrequited love, and in Toby’s, it’s the gratitude of a son for a mother. If those violent desires aren’t enough for us this Christmas, we’re even given the innocent love of Anthony and Johanna, which perseveres while the hatred around them collapses upon itself.

This is where you find the short-term merit of this hard-hitting musical, and it’s where you find the merit in tragedy in general. The darkness of a fallen world is the perfect background for the spark of hope that every individual must find, even if it’s a bit twisted. So Burton and Sondheim have built a powerful piece of cinema on a foundation of classic principles … first, by ripping us away from the spirit of the season and the medium … and then, by bringing us back to it just enough to make it a profound experience.