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Jesus Christ Superstar (1973) More at IMDbPro »

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Nails It., 28 December 2005

Author: dunmore_ego from Los Angeles, California

A rockgasmic Judas–eye view of the last days of Christ.

Directed by Norman Jewison and powered by the mountain-leveling throats of Ted Neeley (Jesus) and Carl Anderson (Judas), "Jesus Christ Superstar" is as reverent as it is blasphemous, as bombastic as it is humble, as god as it is zilla.

Staged as a Grand Play in which all the actors arrive on a tour bus at a desert-swept Israel location, the film is opened with an overture which heralds the Players (a disheveled coterie of Haight-Asbury, flower-power dissidents who were most certainly on The Pot and engaging in The Sex), who parcel out props and pseudo period costumes, intriguingly modern, lending the production a sense of insurrect bravado from the get-go.

As the music builds, on the roof of the bus is raised – The Cross. And the soundtrack launches The Riff – a D-minor cataclysm of chest-beating rock solidarity. With this Riff, Andrew Lloyd-Webber found his One Thing. If he never produced anything more in his life, this Riff would remain his legacy to Humanity. If the Old Testament God of Revenge had a riff – this would be it.

As the 60s groove spasms the Players into decidedly more sexual gyrations, the man who would play Jesus is singled out and bedecked in white – as the Superstar Theme blazes forth like the scintillation of suns. Then all falls silent…

…Judas, a lone figure on a mountaintop, opens The Play singing "Heaven On Their Minds," Anderson oozing such raw gusto and riveting intensity that it almost becomes "Judas Iscariot Superstar" right there.

The film's hook is set: this will be Judas' story. Thus also is the film's controversy set - for not only does "Superstar" grant way too much credence to someone whom Good Christians regard as one of the killers of Christ, it also acts as apologist for Pontius Pilate (who condemns Jesus only very reluctantly – his "hand-washing" scene a startler); portrays Jesus not only as a screaming rock star, but as almost too human to command worship (with his chronic doubts and no depiction of miracles); and allows Mary Magdalene (Yvonne Elliman) to blatantly consider loving Jesus in the – shall we say – "biblical" sense. Another bone of contention was the movie wrapping with Jesus left for dead on the cross, bookended by the Players boarding the tour bus (*sans* their crucified pal) and driving into the sunset – unlike all other Jesus movies ("King Of Kings," "Greatest Story Ever Told") which glorified their zombie epilogues. (Well, what else would you call a person raised from the dead?)

Truly a product of its time, when the hippie contingent had reached a zenith in cultural impact (the fashions and attitudes were then "modern" – all that long hair and bellbottomry was *real*), thereby making it economically viable to produce a musical of this ilk, "Superstar" began as a rock concept album in 1970, with none other than Deep Purple's banshee vocalist Ian Gillan as Jesus and Murray Head as Judas. As heretic as it may be, Neeley and Anderson actually outshine Gillan and Head, probably because having to also "perform" the Play lent wings to their production, reportedly singing at full strength on screen to retain the legitimacy of their neck-popping passion, for all the world looking like they are being recorded as they vocalize, the synch being that good, even taking into account they rarely sing "on the beat."

Estimably supported by Elliman (whose "I Don't Know How To Love Him" was a chart-topper), Barry Dennen (as a perfectly petulant Pontius Pilate), Larry Marshall (as Simon), Bob Bingham and Larry Yaghjian (as the imposing basso, priest Caiaphas, and the heel-yapping tenor Annas, respectively).

Except for occasional one-liners, Jesus' apostles are no more than wisps of raggedy, big-haired dayplayers – it is enough they keep their lip-synch in line. With grand vistas of Israel as backdrop, Jewison populates his film with hot 60s chicks and guys who look like rock musicians and 70s porn stars. (Speaking of which, apostle Peter - billed as Philip Toubus - became porn legend Paul Thomas soon after "Superstar.")

The remarkable gelling of Tim Rice's insightful lyrics with Andrew Lloyd-Webber's rock score (reminiscent of every late 60s group, from Purple to Uriah Heep and Zeppelin, with orchestral backing to jog it into "stage musical" territory) is the genius behind this morbid tale of a dead ex-Jew our grandparents prayed to.

Ted Neeley's "Gethsemane" still raises the neck hairs, and by the 5/8 climactic orchestral interlude, I am almost praising a god I long ago realized was a figment - for the sheer ground-shuddering talent of those who brought this deified figure's political odyssey to musical fruition.

From hearing it at every school play, to all your older friends owning the soundtrack, the final bountiful "Superstar" theme, all 70s glam and 60s groove, has become so ingrained in our culture that it cannot but conjure memories of a more carefree time. With Anderson's dam busting vocals burning down one side and his haughty sirens in angelic-white bikini-leotards slinking vocal support, the movie's title track is a bombastic fanfare of youth and joy and searing sexuality, yet daring those pertinent questions that every Christian should – but never bothers to – ask: Who are you? What have you sacrificed? Did you mean to die like that? What makes you better than Buddha, Mohammed, other religions? Every time I look at you I don't understand why you let the things you did get so out of hand…

Leaning on the universal language of music, rather than religiosity, "Jesus Christ Superstar" continues embedding itself into the culture with each passing year; each passing decade furthering its status as awe-inspiring "classic," defiantly standing as THE "Jesus film" that will never lose its potency.

(Movie Maniacs, visit: www.poffysmoviemania.com)

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