Jesus Christ Superstar at the Watermill Theatre – review

Even if this is your first encounter with Jesus Christ Superstar, most would be familiar with the story of the life and death of its eponymous “star” as told in the New Testament. Regardless of prior experience with the show however, you’ll be leaning forward with rapt attention from the first chords of this actor-musician revival, playing through to September.

Electric guitars, keyboards, blasts of the brass, percussion and woodwind are played with fervour-approaching menace by the 18-strong (and I do mean strong!) cast of triple threats singing, dancing and acting up a storm. From the get-go, they clearly relish Andrew Lloyd Webber’s and Tim Rice’s iconic music and lyrics – and we, the audience, do too.

Led into the action by Max Alexander-Taylor’s Judas Iscariot with a blood-red guitar that presages the intentions of betrayal he soon makes clear, we find the streets of Jerusalem thronging with black-clad heavy-metal musos. The girls are all hippyish glitz and glamour in their sequinned miniskirts, bra tops and fishnet tights. The men sport dark shorts and trackie bottoms, often sequinned too. All are draped with silver chains at neck and waist and crowned with corn rows and braids.

Designer David Woodhead makes the streets as dark and menacing as their denizens wearing his monochrome gear, although he rings the changes with back-projected faces and other images, including later in the action, letters in a cross-shape making up the words “CASINO & TEMPLE’ intertwined as if in a cryptic crossword

From those first bars, it is clear that there’s a real sense of anticipation in the air amongst the throng surrounding the musos, and that it is Jesus Christ they are all awaiting.

When he finally appears, it’s a mould-breaking moment. No bells and whistles, no bearded icon, just a slight, clean-shaven young man clad in white t-shirt and jeans joining the lines of dancers surrounded by the musos. “What’s the buzz? Tell me Jesus” chants one of the lads. And as the news spreads that he is among them, the joyful song “Hosanna” breaks out. Michael Kholwadia may seem unexpectedly unassuming, but he is extraordinarily warm and empathetic. He is a magnet for the women, especially Parisa Shahmir’s glowing Mary Magdalene. As the story progresses towards its inevitable end, it is clear that he is apprehensive, afraid. He knows who he is, but there’s a sense of “why me?” anticipating the agonised words “My God, why have you forsaken me”. Both Kholwadia and Shahmir have soaring, beautiful voices. Her “I Don’t Know How To Love Him’ is especially moving.

Those intent on making an end of Jesus must be mentioned. There are Olugbenga Adelekan’s Caiaphas and Alexander Zane’s Annas (who is also MD!), tainting their priestly names for eternity as they betray Jesus. Herod the King, Samuel Morgan-Grahame, shows his comic mettle by playing his solo with hilarious jerky movements and more than earning laughs with his taunting jibes of Jesus (“Prove to me that you’re no fool, walk across my swimming pool”)! Christian Edwards’ Pilate is unsympathetic and peremptory.

The whole is directed with imagination, insight and compassion by the Watermill’s artistic director Paul Hart, beautifully complemented by Anjali Mehra’s wonderfully varied choreography. An inspired coup de théâtre takes the whole audience out into the Watermill’s beautiful wooded gardens – a glorious natural backdrop for the Garden of Gethsemane, complete with obliging birdlife! It is there that Judas’ kiss condemns both Jesus and Judas himself. Jesus is later bound and led away as Judas throws his 30 pieces of silver in the air in a last despairing gesture. The sight of Jesus flayed by Roman guards and covered in blood as he is brought to his end, is almost easier to bear for hearing Jesus murmur “It is finished.” Almost but not quite…