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The final shot of "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" rivals any we've seen in years.

It's a moment of blood-drenched sadness. Director Tim Burton shrinks the screen, drawing in the margins to make the wide shot narrow. The camera freezes on this mesmerizing and darkly beautiful image (let's not give away too much) before the closing credits roll.

What does this tell us? That one of film's foremost artists is back, and he hasn't lost the touch of genius missing in his last batch of films. This is Burton's best movie since "Ed Wood."

Of course, he teams with Johnny Depp. After diluting his r‚sum‚ with unnecessary "Pirate" sequels, Depp devours the challenge of singing through this bloody mess of a movie. These two have an Alfred Hitchcock-Jimmy Stewart thing happening (although it's hard to imagine Stewart singing as he slashes throats).

"Sweeney," based on Stephen Sondheim's stage score, is, remarkably, the best musical to come out of Hollywood in years. What a bold choice, to craft one of the year's goriest films and keep it almost entirely sung.

Depp's Todd wasn't always an unblinking, ghost-faced serial killer. His first song explains he has returned to London after 15 years in prison. His only crime was marrying a hottie who caught the eye of nasty Judge Turpin (slithery Alan Rickman). Turpin banished him, raped his wife and stole their daughter to raise as his own. This, understandably, has been on Todd's mind throughout his incarceration.

His black eyes are on fire with thoughts of revenge.

Todd's old apartment, where he once worked as a barber, is above Mrs. Lovett's meat pie shop. Lovett hasn't rented it in all those years, and she sets Todd up to take customers again. She even saved his razors. (He sings to them and wears them in holsters like a gunfighter.)

The film springs to life when Carter is on the screen. In Lovett's first scene she's baking bugs into her meat pies, which she boasts through song are London's worst.

Todd starts killing his way toward sweet revenge. He lathers up his customers' faces like it's time for a shave, then slits their throats. To cover up the killings, Lovett bakes the bodies into pies. This saves her the trouble of chasing down cats.

One of the many delights of "Sweeney" is the pair moving about Lovett's shop, looking out the window and singing about which people might taste best: "Is politician so oily/he's served with a doily?"

It's fun but also uncommonly dark, filmed almost entirely in blacks, grays and deep blues, with the obvious exception of all that stylized, ruby-red blood.

Burton's vision is magic, and he teams with two stellar actors to make a one-of-a-kind movie that's fun, sad and packed with brilliant moments.