On October 24, 1971, The New York Times published a review of Jesus Christ Superstar by Walter Kerr. Kerr had enjoyed the concept album, released a year before, but found the stage production bizarre and unappealing.
He wrote of dancers’ “hysterical gyrations” and writes at one point that Christ was dragged away “on what seems like a large slice of eggplant.” Instead of letting the music and the story speak for itself, he said, director O’Horgan has adorned it. “Oh my God, how he has adorned it.”
But lo, redemption: Circle Theatre’s production, onstage through September 20th, lets the story speak for itself. That isn’t to say there’s no imagination onstage. Here, the story takes place in a dystopian future. The set is minimalistic, suggesting old metal; the costumes, especially those of the priests, seem to belong to another time; and the dancing is both familiar on not, appropriate for a story taking place five generations from now.
Nevertheless, there’s a thoughtful simplicity to this production, one that allows what’s been called the greatest story of all time to shine through.
As the show opens, Jesus (Joel Miller) is not long for the world; although crowds of people, especially the poor, worship him, powerful elites plot his demise. Miller, slim, short-haired, and beardless, does not look the way we historically imagined Jesus to look. Nevertheless, he’s a good choice; he has a stillness and a quiet charisma that help part fit player.
Just as central to the story is Judas Iscariot (Ali Jamal). His Judas is muscular, earnest, and tormented. It’s a challenging role; we have to believe that he’s doing the wrong thing for the right reason, while still nursing doubt (there were, after all, those thirty pieces of silver). “Judas’s Death,” coming late in the play, is raw and shocking. Jamal’s great here, as is Sam Verburg’s satanic lighting.
Also beautifully lit and well-performed number is “Jesus Must Die,” followed short on its heels by “Hosanna,” a one-two punch of low and high, anxiety and bliss. It’s in songs like the latter that you realize how good Tim Rice’s lyrics are. They’re deceptively simple. Seemingly meaningless lines like “Hey JC, JC, won’t you smile at me?” are intercut with a conversation between Caiaphus (Steve Place) and Jesus, as the former urges Jesus to disperse the crowd and Jesus refuses. It’s written in everyday language, familiar language. Rather than cheapening the story, it allows the themes to come through with utter clarity.
Kayleigh Kuklewski plays Mary Magdalene, a prostitute who has befriended Jesus. She’s condemned by society, something which would be largely true today, but he doesn’t condemn here. “I don’t know how to love him,” she sings, maybe because she’s not used to men loving her without asking anything of her. Kuklewski captures well the bittersweet uncertainty inherent in the song.
Not everything works. “Superstar,” a showbiz number sung by Judas and others after his suicide, is jarring—intentionally, yes, but not in a way that serves any apparent purpose. It’s disorienting in a way that takes a way from the crucifixion, which quickly follows.
The musical takes no stance on Jesus’s divinity—we hear about miracles but never see them, and if a resurrection takes place, it’s after the final curtain. Even so, it remains popular, including with Christians, in part because it takes this story seriously, and it demonstrates what it cost one man to speak of hope, charity, and love, suggesting that it was more than worth the price.
The original production, which neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Tim Rice much cared for, is more or less forgotten. Circle’s, which has no large eggplant slices, and in which any gyrations taking place are non-hysterical, is less likely to be forgotten anytime soon.
Jesus Christ Superstar
Circle Theatre
Sept. 4-20
https://circletheatre.org/production/jesus-christ-superstar/
