Holy unsatisfying

In the ballad I Don’t Know How to Love Him from the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar, Mary Magdalene sings about Jesus, “I don’t see why he moves me.”

She tries to tell herself, “He’s just a man,” but she’s thrown off by the deep mystery and magnetism of his presence — a man and yet not a man; familiar and yet unreachable.

In great productions of the landmark 1970 work by composer Andrew Lloyd Webber and lyricist Tim Rice, and in the unforgettable 1973 movie version, the troubled Jesus has the same effect on the audience as he does on Mary.

He has a spiritual aura, radiates otherworldly charisma and seems all-knowing. But as he endures the final week of his life, he’s also movingly human — increasingly frustrated with his followers and doubting his own strength to finish what God has started.

Unfortunately, in the uneven local production that opened Thursday — marking the first time Rainbow Stage has mounted Superstar — the 19-member cast is led by a soft, bland Jesus (Connor Meek) who is not a strong enough actor to carry the role.

Meek is an outstanding singer who nails (excuse the verb) Christ’s challenging tenor notes, particularly in the searing solo Gethsemane, which received rapturous applause. But he doesn’t command the stage or convey convincing emotions (especially not anger), often neglecting to even look at the other performers and barely using his body for expression.

In a production where the most accurate descriptor for Joseph Abetria’s costumes is “cheap” (and let’s not get started on the plastic palm fronds for Hosanna), Jesus is saddled with a dreadful, drapey white tunic made of synthetic fabric.

His intelligent, questioning right-hand man, Judas Iscariot (Nathaniel Muir), wrestles with his own love for, and disappointment in, Jesus. Although he’s an excellent singer, Muir is self-conscious. Like Meek, he lacks acting technique and doesn’t take full ownership of the stage. His all-black costume is a sort of sloppy sleeveless bartender look.

Judas’s first solo, Heaven on Their Minds, should set a fierce, high-stakes tone with its warning that Jesus’s followers are blind and trouble is brewing, but its energy level is much too low. Where’s the fervour?

By the time Muir is costumed in schlumpy silver lamé for the Superstar number near show’s end (which crosses the taste line from glorious ’70s hip to near-cringe), his limitations are all too glaring.

The fiery dramatic chemistry between Jesus and Judas that should anchor the show is not there. Director Sharon Bajer makes some questionable choices, such as placing them miles apart for the iconic moment when Judas attacks Jesus as a “sad, pathetic man” who has to be turned over to authorities like a “jaded mandarin.”

Judas’s songs are the worst offenders for lyrics that are hard to make out — a combination of poor enunciation and band volume. Because the show has no spoken dialogue, the Rainbow team’s highest priority should be to ensure that Rice’s lyrics — many of which are wonderfully witty — are audible.

While some numbers, such as the disciples’ The Last Supper, do come through, there are audibility issues with some of the priests’ rapid lyrics. The audience needs to understand lines such as, “What do we do with a man who is bigger/ than John was when John did his baptism thing?”

Kudos to Tyler Leighton for sending his lyrics soaring as the high-voiced priest Annas. Another praiseworthy trouper is Joseph Sevillo, who brings much-needed (if somewhat drowned-out) intensity to Simon Zealotes, who urges Jesus to lead an uprising against the Romans.

Stephanie Rutherford’s choreography, while fresh and well danced for many of the numbers, is needlessly literal for the Zealotes number, with the ensemble marching military-style and wielding knives.

What can be said in appreciation of the show, which runs a little over two hours including intermission, is that the six-person band — positioned on high scaffolding platforms — delivers the score as it’s known and cherished, from driving, funky basslines to folky acoustic guitars; stinging electric guitar licks to majestic horn sounds.

The ragtime piano number King Herod’s Song, which provides comic relief, has the Jesus-taunting Herod deliciously played by Reid McTavish as an outrageous drag queen in thigh-high boots.

Two performances are genuinely compelling, and both incorporate full-body physicality. As Mary Magdalene, the poised Dutchess Cayetano sings in a pure, stunning soprano, makes the role uniquely her own, and invests the character with heart and vulnerability.

Playing the haughtily confident Pontius Pilate, Duncan Cox is at first hampered by holding a guitar for his dream solo. However, he comes back blazing and leaves everything on the stage as he challenges the passive Christ to defend himself on trial, finally screaming, “Die if you want to, you innocent puppet!”

Bajer writes in the program that she imagined the opera’s overture accompanying a vision of Pilate’s dream, which foretells his role in sealing Christ’s fate. All this does is get the show off to a messy start that will not be understood by the vast majority of audience members.

The questions about fame and destiny that swirl through the opera are still provocative. Did Jesus mean to die in the way that he did, or did he lose control of how the story was supposed to play out?

Regardless, a production of Superstar that makes very little dramatic impact represents a missed opportunity to reinvigorate it, both for longtime fans and new converts.

arts@freepress.mb.ca