Jesus Christ Superstar at Flat Rock Playhouse
The rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar is (much like me) approaching its mid-50s, and I am sure there are those out there who, also like me, grew up committing the original soundtrack to memory, with the album playing in childhood homes or lovingly transferred to cassette tape (as was the style at the time) for long car-bound family road trips. The double-LP, with its understated brown sleeve, is a standard in old record collections and it’s easy to think of the work by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice as both a classic and an artifact — time-worn like the fuzzy, frayed corners of an album cover unearthed in thrift store bins.
So, I am happy to report that the production of JCS by Flat Rock Playhouse, on stage through Sunday, Sept. 22, is a stunning rendition, full of energy, momentum, and even a few surprises. Billed as an “in concert event,” JCS has all the electricity of a live rock show and the complexity of a theatrical performance, fused into one startlingly satisfying experience.
For the uninitiated (and I don’t think I am at risk of spoiling the plot here), JCS is a retelling of Jesus’ final days, and — as the qualifier “rock opera” implies — musical through and through. Every line of dialogue, every soliloquy, is in song.
When introduced to the public in 1970, JCS was a standalone concept album — a purely audio offering. The subsequent 1971 Broadway debut was set in Jesus’ time, with characters clad in sandals and period-appropriate drapery. The 1972 movie took place in some kind of flat-out wackadoo wasteland desert, plied with scaffolding and crawling with hard-hat wearing maniacs.
What I’m getting at is that, with JCS, anything goes. When I saw it onstage in the mid-1980’s, the apostles passed around a bag of Doritos at the last supper. So, there is no dogmatic traditional format at risk of being broken here.
FRP’s production takes full advantage of that license, building a world and time both familiar and hard to nail down, contemporary and dystopian, hip and ominous. The set from scenic designer Dennis C. Maulden is all hard angles: a back wall lit by fractured lines and occasional large-scale projections of Roman iconography broadcasting impending fascism, colorful graphic novel-inspired dialogue bubbles, or social media-fueled video clips (yes, this cast carries phones).
Costume designer Ashli Crump and hair and makeup designer Jazzy Jane Armstrong have outfitted Jesus (Aaron LaVigne), Judas (Dustin Brayley), and the rest of the cast in rock-venue cool with a taste of Black Bloc protest thrown in. The powers-that-be — high priest Caiaphas (Phillip Brandon) and his minions, as well as Pontius Pilate himself (Dan Beckmann) — are clad in the exaggerated corporate suits of capitalist excess.
Director Lisa K. Bryant’s approach does an excellent job of highlighting the timelessness of the more secular themes that JCS has always at its heart — ones that are often muted in the Jesus story: empiric oppression of emerging social change, the fickle arc of celebrity, and the fatal conflicting motives and emotions inside a movement. There’s additionally no shrugging off the political in JCS. It’s plain as day as Judas sings to Jesus in the opener “Heaven on Their Minds” — “We are occupied. Have you forgotten how put down we are?”
The production also successfully challenges the confines of onstage categorization. Is it a musical? Is it a concert? Is there a fourth wall? Should actors hold microphones or use headsets? Should they pick up guitars and sing straight to the audience or even sit in with musicians performing alongside them on stage? Instead of belaboring these questions, the production just hits them head-on with full artistic commitment and the result is gratifying and freeing.
Add to that the thrill of the live band, under the direction of Ethan Andersen, lining the back and sides of the stage and subtly spotlit so you can see the music being performed — a rare treat in theatrical productions and one that adds fire and vibrancy to the score.
The audience greeted the experience with zeal, cheering and applauding after the biggest numbers, including the strong but pensive lamentation from Mary Magdalene (Jenna Rubaii) in “I Don’t Know How to Love Him,” Jesus’ mournful prayer in “Gethsemane (I Only Want to Say)” —with LaVigne playing acoustic guitar directly to the audience — and Brayley’s Judas pouring out his rending conflict and regret at his betrayal of Jesus. Personal favorites came from Simon (Alfred Jackson) and his full-throated rollicking encouragement for Jesus to capitalize on the power of his fan service, and the wildly hilarious appearance by King Herod (Nat Zegree) in all his flamboyant hamminess — a performance that brought the house down.
At two hours long (with an intermission), the performance is nonetheless quick-paced and the energy of the delivery by the entire cast makes it easy to anticipate each next scene.
As someone who knows this score back and forth, it’s near impossible for me to predict how this will all play out for those unfamiliar with Jesus Christ Superstar, but the crowd at opening night appeared to leave thoroughly satiated. FRP has put together a production that rises above a mere revival and delivered something that feels fresh, relevant, and exhilarating.
Jesus Christ Superstar runs through Sunday, Sept. 22, at Flat Rock Playhouse. For details and tickets, visit flatrockplayhouse.org
(Photo by Jeb Purcell)
