Abandoned Altars

Every Lent, I indulge myself by watching my favorite musical, “Jesus Christ Superstar“, that great rock-opera written by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber way back in 1969.

This year, I was fortunate enough to see it live on stage on Palm Sunday, on its “farewell tour” with Ted Neeley as Jesus. He starred in the 1973 movie version, and at least one of the other stage productions I’ve seen. Even with makeup, he looked pretty long in the tooth for Jesus — and no wonder, since he’s been playing the role longer than the rest of the cast has been alive – not quite so nimble as he used to be, but he could still hit the high notes when the time came. And he certainly has the proper Messianic attitude down pat by now. What the show lacked in Broadway production values, it more than made up with audience affection. People truly love him — he’s had a great run, and I wish him well.

Anyway, I’ve seen more productions than I can count, from the hippie movie to evangelical to a Euro-gothic version with Nazi-like Romans, but this was the first full-blown gnostic production I’ve come across.

Even before the overture was over, in this production, Jesus silently raised a zealot slain by the Romans, witnessed only by Judas — who seemingly disapproved, which is an odd beginning. Judas was portrayed as he usually is, as a black guy (Corey Glover), but it was Mary Magdalene (Christine Rea-Briskin) who really got my attention.

Whereas in all previous versions, the Magdalene has been portrayed as ethnic and modestly dressed, this time she was shown in the traditional image with fair skin, flaming red-hair, and dressed in a low-cut crimson gown. However, in this post-Da Vinci Code effort, stage business and even songs were changed around to make her and Jesus appear much more like a couple. Her famous lament, “I don’t know how to love him,” seemed less about unrequited love than accepting his cause.

Jesus, though more human, was also somehow more divine. During pauses in the action, Ted Neeley appeared to be talking to the spotlight, which was a little disconcerting. Most interestingly, at the very end of the scene where Jesus is overwhelmed by the needs of the cripples, a line I never heard before was added. There’s a flash of blinding light and he shouted, “Heal yourselves!”

That pretty much convinced me I wasn’t imagining all this — although I have been told since that it is in earlier versions, though I’d never heard it before.

After that, things progressed fairly normally until the Agony in the Garden. This time, Jesus agrees to be crucified only after a huge clap of thunder announces the Almighty’s displeasure, which is also quite new and didn’t even disturb the apostles.

During the flogging, which often has been done bloodily enough to make Mel Gibson envious, Jesus barely even flinched. But the biggest change and most obviously gnostic giveaway is that there is virtually no cross.

In every production I’ve ever seen before, the cross is a big deal — sometimes wood, sometimes an iron frame or just a bank of lights. Here it was black and invisible. At his death, there was a nice bit of stagecraft where Jesus ascends to the rafters, a drape drops with the Shroud of Turin projected on it, and a moment later, it falls to reveal Jesus raised. Not glorified — just in his plain white robe.

The story of Christ’s passion has been retold countless times to fit the needs of the day. In “Jesus Christ Superstar” his image has run the full gamut from flowerchild to misunderstood reformer. Now, at the end of its first generation, Superstar has been recast with truly gnostic themes, both more human, more divine, and even more mysterious. I can’t wait to see what the next iteration will be like.

Peace, and Happy Easter!