It’s always a joy to visit the London Palladium with its lush, plush auditorium, so it’s quite a shock when you arrive for Jesus Christ Superstar to see the stage bedecked in scaffolding, curling around the side and obscuring the boxes. It looks for all the world like they haven’t quite finished fixing the set. But theatre is all about being unsettled, right? Especially when you’re going to see a show that – if you’re like me and grew up with it as a teenager – you know backwards. The original rock opera (don’t give me any of that Tommy nonsense) still electrifies (musically at least) from the first few guitar chords played by the band to its final bars. This Palladium production – lifted from its successful Regent’s Park run from a few years ago – always ensures that the music is centre stage; exactly where it should be.
Advance sales for this show have been described as unprecedented for a Palladium summer run; so much so that a transfer to Drury Lane and a subsequent UK tour were announced long before its first preview. The reason for this is simple; the inspired casting of national treasure in the making, Sam Ryder. Everyone loves Sam. In fact, it’s the law that you can’t not love Sam; he resurrected (carefully chosen word) the UK’s Eurovision reputation and his personal positivity guides everything he does, something badly needed in these bitter days of hatred and feuds. More on Sam’s performance later.
However, despite the title and the star billing, this is, has, and always will be The Judas Show. Judas gets all the opportunities to take control of proceedings, has the widest range of emotions, and constantly drives the narrative. This is deftly conveyed in the first few moments of the show, when a crowd gathers around Jesus, waiting for his words, but before he can speak, Judas whips the mic stand away from him and launches straight into the arresting and exciting Heaven on their Minds, setting out his critical standpoint and distancing himself from the other apostles and the following mob. Even though we know the story inside out, it’s riveting from the start.
Tim Sheader’s production has chosen to offer some plucky theatregoers the chance to get really close to the action by having them standing onstage, separated from the cast only by some confining scaffolding. At £25 per person, it looks like an amazing opportunity to see the show from a different perspective. For the rest of us, they suggest the constant crowds that follow Jesus everywhere; and they do create a very atmospheric tableau when silhouetted against stark lighting effects. It’s a clever idea, and on the whole it works.
Perhaps the most outstanding contribution to the show is Drew McOnie’s choreography. Intense, exhilarating, conveying joy and excitement, the ensemble throw themselves into it all, telling their own individual stories as part of their movement. It’s stunningly effective within the confines of the relatively small performance space that Tom Scutt’s creative but inhibiting set design has created. The Palladium stage is enormous, but it’s a constant surprise how much of the action is required to take place in much smaller pockets of space. No wonder there has to be some creative use of the aisles as well as the stage.
When it comes to the performances, there’s no questioning the commitment and hard work that everyone puts in to make the show a success. Billy Nevers seizes control of the wonderful Simon Zealotes’ song, giving a dynamic, powerful and genuinely joyous performance that is a highlight of the first Act. David Thaxton’s Pilate blows you away, from his quietly disturbed rendition of Pilate’s Dream, through to his ridiculing of Christ before he sends him to Herod, and his masterful performance of the trial scene and the 39 lashes. The staging of the lashes is perhaps the most effective but also least brutal representation of that very difficult scene that I’ve ever watched.
Matty J and Bob Harms create a terrific double act as Annas and Caiaphas, with Mr J’s deceptively sweet vocals scarcely hiding the cruel punch of his words, and Mr Harms’ extraordinary bass tones enunciating Caiaphas’ deadly message. And Tyrone Huntley’s Judas is extraordinary in every department: always powerful vocally, even when he delivers his tenderest and most delicate moments, and with an amazing stage presence. Mr Huntley’s ability to combine musicality with humour was brilliant in the Palladium’s Hello Dolly two years ago, but I had no idea he had this level of performance in his repertoire. However, I was really surprised how the portrayal of Judas’ death came across as such a damp squib, unless there was some kind of technical problem of which I wasn’t aware; he just walks off.
The role of Herod in this production is shared between five high-profile and much-loved performers; for our performance, and until July 11th, he was played by Jesse Tyler Ferguson. If you don’t know the show, and there’s always at least one person at every performance who doesn’t know what to expect, the unexpected portrayal of Herod as a sexually ambivalent hedonist, as camp as the traditional row of tents, singing a jaunty showbizzy song that sticks two fingers up to the accepted view of Herod as a gloomy and intimidating old tyrant, really ought to take your breath away. However, for me, Mr Ferguson presented Herod in a strangely non-flamboyant fashion, allowing his glamorous costume and intricate make-up to do the work instead. The lyrics say he is “overjoyed to meet you face to face”, but this Herod isn’t remotely overjoyed, rather annoyed that his daily routine has been disturbed. Sorry, but this didn’t work for me.
Desmonda Cathabel plays Mary, and with her fantastic voice she completely gets the characterisation for Everything’s Alright and Could We Start Again Please, but her I Don’t Know How to Love Him, potentially the most recognised song of the entire show, doesn’t really hit the mark. Rather like Man of La Mancha’s The Impossible Dream, a dream that by its very description tells you it is impossible to achieve, but which X-Factor style wannabes sing as if it was A Very Big Ask but I’m going to nail it 110%, I Don’t Know How to Love Him conveys Mary’s anguished inability to get her head around what she feels for Jesus. It should only be when she finally sings I love him so at the end of the song that she has completed her journey of understanding. But I fear Ms Cathabel’s Mary delivers it as a simple love song. She knows very well how to love him; she’s known it from the start. It’s a performance that somehow doesn’t connect with the audience.
Which brings us to the object of her love, Sam Ryder’s Jesus. If ever there was a visual embodiment of how we think of Christ, Mr Ryder is it. Known for his ability to perform striking vocal ornaments he is an extraordinary force to be reckoned with. His first few words (Why should you want to know…) in response to the incessant pestering of What’s the buzz? ring out clear as a bell, mellifluous, meaningful and beautiful. However, when it comes to the softer, lower register moments, the power deserts him, and his delivery appears tentative and uncertain. In fact, at times one wonders whether he’s demanding too much of his voice. His performance highlight is Gethsemane, which triggers a standing ovation during the show, and it’s a five-minute showcase for his skills but, in our performance, I felt he toned down the embellishments, which no doubt helps preserve his voice but also makes the piece much more understandable – so that worked well for me.
There has been much difference of opinion as to how well Sam Ryder acts the part as well as singing it, but, overall, I was impressed with his ability to convey emotion, frequently through a silent stare or an unexpectedly delivered turn of phrase. And his stage presence is immense; it is, indeed, dream casting. He’s a star without question; I just hope that his voice can stay the course. So, whilst there are a few ways in which this production disappoints a little, despite those elements I truly loved it. Jesus Christ Superstar runs at the Palladium until 5th September, then resumes its run at Theatre Royal Drury Lane in October.
Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!
