JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR

This filmed production of ‘Superstar’, an arena concert staged recently in the UK, is a mishmash of the theatrical and televisual. Like all filmed performances of live theatre, it’s a series of concessions: in attempting to capture the immediacy of being there, it lacks the focused eye of the camera; and being a concert performance, it lacks the benefits of a fully-realised theatrical production. What it is, though, is a handsomely staged amalgam of the two.

With a set consisting of scaffold and stairs, the actors are projected onto a giant LED screen behind them, which alternates as necessary for those in the nosebleeds, and as a clever theatrical device. Incorporating visual cues from Occupy London, Guantanamo Bay, and myriad social media, this version of ‘Superstar’ is intelligently contemporised for the modern day – especially in its casting.

Minchin, while initially as startled as the audience to find himself onstage, has a terrific vocal range. The Australian comedian and self-styled “failed rock star” eventually loosens up, finding enough subtlety and genuine pathos in his clunky staging to make Judas’ final epiphany tragically moving. Ben Forster, having won the part on an ITV talent show, is a very fine Christ. Exhibiting enough acting ability for the concert medium, and with a voice (like Minchin) that’s pure rock’n’roll, he nails his trial-by-fire, 'Gethsemane', to the back wall of the arena. But the real revelation is Melanie Chisholm (aka, Mel C), who’s a knockout as Mary Magdalene. The former Sporty Spice shows tremendous sensitivity as a musical performer, most notably in her duet, 'Could We Start Again Please', and her stellar rendition of 'I Don’t Know How To Love Him', which brings the house down.

While the performances are uniformly brilliant across the board, not everything holds together theatrically. Judas’ early disapproval of Mary doesn’t make much sense in the context of their rag-tag, counter-culture posse (they both have dreadlocks, for crying out loud), and certain elements, such as Judas’ payment of thirty pieces of silver in a little red velvet bag, push the anachronisms a little too far (surely a blank cheque would’ve made more sense?). But these occasional lapses in internal logic, as well as a few drab directorial decisions, are hardly deal-breakers. With terrific singing, a bulletproof score, and sensational lyrics, this is one of the best incarnations of ‘Superstar’, and the perfect opportunity to get converted.