A quirk of the diary has seen revivals of Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s two 1970s super-musicals – Evita and Jesus Christ Superstar – open in England within three days. Seen together, they are remarkably similar in structure. An anguished narrator – Judas in 33 AD; Che in the mid-20th century – provokes and rebukes a protagonist to whom sanctity is attributed – Jesus; Eva – and who threatens the political classes with a revolution. Paul Hart’s staging for his innovative riverside venue in Berkshire benefits – as does Jamie Lloyd’s London Palladium Evita – from the current rise of political and religious populism, giving shows either side of 50 years old a strikingly topical context.
Hart uses seventeen actor-musicians, strumming or blowing between lines, with only the title character not playing an instrument, making Jesus look like a vocalist with a massive backing band. But the power of the production is how the cast devastatingly excavate the emotion in the lyrics. Clearly knowing from the outset that he must die – and that his human incarnation makes him sometimes dread and fear this – Michael Kholwadia’s Jesus, unlike the serene hippy-magician in some productions, embodies the “haunting, hunted” look described by Christian Edwards’ Pilate, whose “Pilate’s Dream” is also sung in a tone closer to nightmare.
