Jesus Christ Superstar
There is something magical about musicals. The joyous escapism; the goosebump-rousing
songs; the slick choreography; the sets; the costumes; the intricate, often
witty lyrics; the way my suspended disbelief lets me accept that grown men burst
into spontaneous song rather than simply talk to each other; the illogical sense
that the actors are doing it all just for me...
And Jesus Christ Superstar is one musical with which I could very easily
become obsessed. I saw it 5 days ago at Birmingham's lovely Hippodrome, and
have been buzzing like a bee on acid ever since.
As most folk know, it's a Biblical rock opera which marked the second hit collaboration
between Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, and still draws colossal audiences
over 30 years into its West End run. This brand new touring production is an
experience to which, frankly, no words could do justice even if I were to sit
here all day and swallow a thesaurus. I'll have a go, though. It is captivating,
sensual (all that anointing...), charismatic, and it moved me beyond belief.
Moved me enough to want to see it again, at any rate. 'Big deal,' you might
think, but that is actually extremely unusual for me. Normally with shows, I'm
a 'yeah, I enjoyed that, but once is enough' kinda girl. But with this, the
phrase 'can't get enough' comes to mind.
Making his professional theatre debut in it, as Judas Iscariot, is James Fox
- Fame Academy graduate, Eurovision contender and idol to a devout and
friendly fan base on www.jamesfox.biz.
And what an impressive debut it is! The part of this traitorous narrator is
a highly physical one which requires James to be on stage virtually throughout
- either giving passionate voice to his venom and tortured conscience, or brooding
in crowd scenes. Right from the stirring opener, Heaven on Their Minds,
he has sensational presence, and gives what is unmistakably the performance
of his life. So far anyway...
On the strength of it, you wonder how James could possibly have not won Fame
Academy - but maybe that was a blessing in disguise, for what was the pop
world's loss is undoubtedly musical theatre's gain.
Fans will not be disappointed - and cynics who carp that reality telly stars
have no shelf life beyond talent shows should be made to come and watch!
Glenn Carter (who also stars in the DVD version, filmed in 2000) is completely
magnificent in the title role - and indeed won the Drama League's Most Outstanding
Performance in a Musical award for his performance on Broadway. He portrays
the big JC as a kind of sex-on-legs rock star figure who arouses adulation and
scorn in equal measure.
He has an astounding vocal range - his big dramatic number Gethsemane
would win gold in the 'hitting the high notes' Olympics, and the Crucifixion
scenes pack a traumatic punch.
I think Glenn was also in the production of Joseph which starred that
another loincloth god Phillip Schofield and which I saw when I was 15 (quite
a long time ago - LOL) and had a Phillip fixation. He has since played The Man,
the Messiah-like lead in Whistle Down the Wind, which I'm sure was wonderful
too.
But digressions aside...James was due to take over the Jesus role later in the
tour - only the directors are having a tough task trying to replace him with
a Judas of similar calibre! Therefore he'll remain as Judas for the foreseeable
future (source: good old jamesfox.biz again!).
Martin Callaghan, alias Herod, supplies the comedy: flobbering about in a loincloth
and lipstick, and getting voyeuristically turned on when Pilate (a rather camp,
hissy turn from Tim Churchill) whips Christ. His portrayal of the bisexual (so
I was informed by a lady sitting behind me!!) king is reminiscent of the portly,
golden shower-dispensing character in Frankie Goes to Hollywood's infamous Relax
promo.
Among the other main protagonists, Emma Dears makes a beautiful Mary Magdalene,
Christ's winsome love interest, who always seems to be anointing him yet 'doesn't
know how to love him,' while Steve Fortune - owner of what must surely be the
gravelliest voice in showbiz (if not the world) - is superbly sinister as the
Darth Vader-ish High Priest Caiaphas.
The sell-out matinee audience clearly shared my thoughts on the production,
responding with a well deserved standing ovation before we all trooped out past
the ice cream stands and back into the Saturday reality of central Brum.
I am, as you'll have gathered, still on a total high days later. The experience
seemed to 'wash' over me in waves, if that makes sense. It wasn't like Les
Mis, which had me sobbing like Deirdre Barlow right from the overture; JCS
left me with more of an emotional aftershock; a 'Wow, I've just seen something
fantastic which I don't want to stop talking about because I don't want it to
go away' kind of feeling.
I've just ordered the DVD from Amazon - a further review of which is bound to
follow here, so watch this space...
I shall be ambushing the postman daily until its arrival.
© Leigh Rowley, 2004