It's all about perspective

On my shoulders sit two figures. One has a little pitchfork, the other a halo, and they might as well have appeared straight out of TheEmperor's New Groove. They speak to me as I watch this bazillion-dollar production of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Jesus Christ Superstar, which is playing this weekend at the Wang Center Theater for upwards of $70 per ticket. What ensues is the conversation between these two opposing sides:



Halo: Talk about getting a bang for your buck. This is a show you could actually say is worth paying seventy dollars: the dancers and singers are Broadway quality, the sound is fantastic and the sets and costumes are amazing. There's steam effects, a moving set, a huge cross made of lights and great spectacles; in fact, there's nothing you're missing by not going to New York to see this.

Pitchfork: Of course, there's a reason you can't see this in New York. Webber is a washed up fake-rock musical maker, and this overproduced show couldn't survive in the current Producers era of musical theater. Big is fine, but schlock is schlock, and at least The Producers and 42ndStreet know what they are. How can Webber think this means anything?

Halo: Webber didn't think anything, the producers did. Besides, you can't deny the fact that though the musical may be pretend-rock, but it is catchy. Every person around us is tapping their feet and practically singing along, and why not? Webber and Rice took the Jesus story and made it accessible and interesting for everyone, and they're the only creative team to actually question about Judas's motives. That's worth something.

Pitchfork: Let's talk about Judas. Carl Anderson has done this role, according to the program, for about...forever. He may know it cold and be able to still sing it, but damn, is he a little long in the tooth. Leather jacket or not, he's older than the other apostles by at least 30 years. Let someone else take a crack at this, please!

Halo: He may look a little older, but he's selling it more than the guy playing Jesus. Performing this show in cities all over the world is a tough beat, and Anderson is up there playing the part like he might never get a chance to play it again. He earns his paycheck every night. And the other apostles are dancing and singing their respective pants off. These are talented performers having the time of their lives up there, whether as an apostle or a Roman Guard --

Pitchfork: For the love of Pete, why are the Roman Guards dressed up like storm troopers?! You've got Pontious Pilate dressed up like an SS Officer, Stock Brokers in the Temple, apostles spray-painting the walls, which are in fact Roman columns. The whole thing reeks of remake for the sake of remake, half-baked notions sent to the designers without much thought for how the whole thing gelled.

Halo: So the Orwellian troops thing is a bit much, but you have to admit, seeing a bunch of stock-tickers dropping from the ceiling and a chorus line of well-dressed fortune-seekers was pretty damn cool. Also, seeing "Enron" and "Tyco" stock prices flash by gave everyone in the audience a moment of pause. Either through Christ or the stock market, everyone wants salvation without much work, and this remake hammers home that point successfully.

Pitchfork: And what is the show saying, exactly, with that King Herod number? You've got a very silly bald guy in an ill-fitting suit dancing with his name lit up in cheesy lights, screeching "So you're the Christ, the great Jesus Christ!?" And here come the dancing girls, and here come gangsters doing the bunny hop, and here comes the Chicago-like lights. There are times where this show is completely insane.

Halo: But it is never boring. The story moves fast with practically no pauses, and it tells the story in such a way that everyone both gets and enjoys. The kids are oohing and aaahing, and the older crowd can be heard muttering, "Isn't it so much fun?" Not only that, but the whole thing, intermission and all, runs under two hours.

Pitchfork: And if we judged everything by these standards, what a dark world this would be. This show might be pitched as the Jesus story re-imagined as a look at Celebrity, yet it remains remarkably safe. No one will be offended by this, no one's ideas about God and Man will be challenged, no one will believe more or less. Webber is a master of creating entertainment that lets the audience just sit back, relax, and passively be entertained. He never makes you sit up and listen to what is being said, instead, he creates music that's pleasing to the ear and impossible to get out of your head. Yes, you enjoy yourself, you listen to the CD and everyone got paid, but this is not what theater can, or should be.

Halo: If we expected great art every time we went to the theater, what a pessimistic world this would be. Webber and Rice may not challenge anyone's faith, but they did take the 'Greatest Story ever told' and tell it in a new way so that everyone can appreciate it. People who don't think they like theater will like this, and that means that hopefully those people will go to the theater again. That's what we want in the end, right?

Pitchfork: But if the people who like theater don't think this is good, then you have more people coming to see something the purists don't want. Sooner or later we're going to have a problem here, some say we already do.

Halo: Yet, again, you were never bored, were you?



So it goes on. Mr. Halo says I should call it a great show and encourage people to see it, a good night at the theater that will thrill you. Mr. Pitchfork tells me to cut it off, that Webber has taken enough of your money and we should encourage new shows instead of high-price remakes. I think I'll try to meet them somewhere in the middle.