Theatre in Review: Jesus Christ Superstar (Neil Simon Theatre)

Cards on the table: I am not now, nor have I ever been, a fan of Jesus Christ Superstar. Forty years ago, it struck me as a slick and empty enterprise, and the ensuing decades have done nothing to change that impression. At the time it was released as a concept album, there was much hand-wringing about whether or not it was sacrilegious or a potent retelling of the Passion story for a new generation. On stage, however, it has always come across as a prime piece of early-'70s kitsch, the contemporary equivalent of fatheaded Hollywood Biblical potboilers of the '50s, like Ben-Hur, Quo Vadis, or King of Kings. The only difference is that it was vulgar in a hipper way.

To my ears, the admittedly popular score is most interesting as a prophecy of works to come from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice. As is so often the case with Lloyd Webber, his Superstar score settles for repetitive melodies and flashy, begging-for-applause effects, forgoing anything like emotional complexity. Rice's lyrics can be incisive, but too often he tries to get away with murder, slipping one howler after another into his text. A key example in Superstar occurs as the guests assemble for the Last Supper: "Always hoped that I'd be an apostle/Knew that I would make it if I tried/Then when we retire we can write the gospels/ So they'll still talk about us when we've died." Where to begin unpacking the absurdities in these four lines? Apparently, Peter, Matthew, Mark, et al. were starry-eyed little boys, hoping the Messiah would show up and choose them for his posse. And, dreams of best-sellerdom dancing in their heads, they're apparently busy taking notes for those soon-to-be-published gospels. Who knew they were men of such foresight?

If this seems like nit-picking, remember that JC Superstar pretends to high seriousness for every minute of its two-hour running time, a claim that can't stand up to even the tiniest bit of scrutiny. In any case, if you love the show and have bothered to read this far, I will say that Des McAnuff's production, now on Broadway via the Stratford Festival and La Jolla Playhouse, is an attempt at a relatively straightforward and glitz-free staging. Lloyd Webber and Rice have rightly complained that, whatever you think of it, JC Superstar has been subjected to some pretty ghastly productions -- the 2000 Broadway revival is one of the most justly reviled revivals in recent Broadway history -- and are reportedly gratified that McAnuff has kept the flash and trash to a minimum. If you think Jesus Christ Superstar is the greatest musical ever told, this is probably the production of your dreams. If you're like me, it's probably your best shot at experiencing it in relatively painless fashion.

In fact, McAnuff's work goes a long way toward making what is, after all, a glorified song cycle into a coherent musical drama. It begins with the cast on stage, staring at the audience, while an upstage video wall announces the year 2012, then reels backward to 33. A zipper sign, placed about halfway up Robert Brill's two-level set, announces the time and place of each scene, helping to create a sense of the circumstances closing in on Christ in his last days. McAnuff also persuasively frames the three leads -- Christ, Judas, and Mary Magdelene -- as three sides of a complicated triangle, with both Judas and Mary jousting for Jesus' attention.

The director has also obtained a number of striking performances from his cast. Josh Young, a powerful, big-voiced Judas, captures the character's complicated love/hate for Christ as well as his endlessly self-justifying nature. Tom Hewitt is a dignified and tormented Pontius Pilate, eloquently expressing his distaste at the handling of Christ's case. The most original work is delivered by Bruce Dow as Herod. His big number -- a jarring stylistic break from the rest of the score -- is usually the cue for tasteless camping and tacky special effects. Dow turns it into a gripping mini-drama in which Herod vents his contempt at Jesus; his anger has a lady-doth-protest-too-much quality that suggests an underlying fear of Jesus' power.

Less effective are Paul Nolan's Jesus -- he sings well but can't find a way around the character's passivity -- and Chilina Kennedy, whose Mary Magdelene is surprisingly lacking in vulnerability. As Caiaphas and Annas, Marcus Nance and Aaron Walpole have impressive voices but are hampered by costumes that make them look like Hasidim with a leather fetish. (Paul Tazewell's costumes, which mix and match details from various eras, don't constitute his finest moment.) Also problematic is Lisa Shriver's choreography, which makes the Apostles look like a tumbling act from Cirque du Soleil and styles the chorus into a gospel choir in "Simon Zealotes." (There's something kicky and a little sinister about the Charleston steps she devises for "Herod's Song," however.) And was it really necessary to stage the Temple sequence as a kind of gay disco, complete with cocktail waitresses in glittery miniskirts?

Brill's setting, with its video walls, light towers, gallery level, and ladders in various locations, is a strong visual concept, cleanly rendered, and it provides a number of staging possibilities. The video, by Sean Nieuwenhuis, is surprisingly restrained, most effective when telling us where and when the action is taking place. There's a stunning effect in the crucifixion sequence, when the stage is covered with the text of the Passion narrative. The rest of the time, the video effects are confined to rising and falling suns and moons, and images of crowds seen in silhouettes. (In his last Broadway production, the 2006 Guys and Dolls, McAnuff was accused of letting video effects overshadow the live actors; it would appear that he has learned that lesson well.) Howell Binkley's superb lighting adds drama to every number with a battery of looks, especially in the crucifixion sequence. Steve Canyon Kennedy's sound design is, necessarily, loud, but preserves the primacy of the vocals; the lyrics are always clear and intelligible.

If we must have Jesus Christ Superstar, this production is better than most, I suppose. If that sounds like faint praise, well, it is. As it and the currently running Godspell have definitely proven, it's possible to make what is supposed to be a timeless story seem very old-fashioned indeed.--David Barbour