Loving Jesus Christ Superstar is one thing, but embracing all the different stage adaptations of it is a whole other challenge. The Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice masterpiece probably hit its purest form in the original 1970 concept album, and while thousands of productions since have had no shortage of paying audiences, delivering one that truly soars has been about as rare as, to borrow a certain famous line, getting a camel through the eye of a needle. There are plenty of traps to fall into, being too cheeky, too stiff, too over-the-top, or too stripped down but maybe the biggest mistake is treating it like a standard musical instead of the “rock opera” it was born to be. Another problem is this: sure, Judas being something of the show’s main character can be entertaining, but isn’t it odd when Jesus supposedly the most magnetic figure in all of history ends up looking like a gloomy second act?
The Jesus Christ Superstar staged as a three-night special at the Hollywood Bowl avoided those issues entirely, and I mean entirely. It’s worth repeating: this Hollywood Bowl production sidestepped every one of those problems. Just like its title character, it was an undeniable hit. Casting played a huge role in that success. Suppose you’d only heard that Adam Lambert was stepping into the role of the show’s complicated central figure-slash-antagonist. In that case, you might think: here we go again, but at least it’ll be a fun ride as Judas Iscariot Superstar completely overshadows whoever ends up as his counterpart. Instead, with Cynthia Erivo taking on Jesus, Judas finally had a worthy match, and Lloyd Webber and Rice’s tragic friendship story came alive with the ultimate pairing of divine frenemies.
Of course, Christian teaching describes Jesus as both human and divine, and Rice’s lyrics in the more introspective numbers, like “Gethsemane,” lean into that idea. Still, the temptation for many actors is to lean so hard into their humanity that they end up feeling ordinary. Casting a woman in the role instantly gives the character a sense of otherness, moving away from the tired portrayal of Christ as a long-haired, grumpy hippie. Erivo’s presence was both inviting and unearthly, bald, sporting fierce talons, and able to switch from a warm smile to an intense gaze over moneylenders or looming sacrifice. David Bowie once described faith in God as “Loving the Alien,” and in this production, Erivo embodied a Jesus who felt like a beloved soul whose essence was only partly from this world.
Vocally, it’s hard to imagine a more powerful-sounding Jesus than what Erivo delivered that weekend. This wasn’t just “gender-blind” casting it was as if the role had always been meant for a commanding female voice. Structurally, the show still leans toward Judas, giving Christ a standout song early in Act 2 before leaving him mostly silent for much of the rest, aside from encounters with Herod and Pilate. (One of the bold choices of the show is that Jesus never gets a resurrection scene, though Judas does.) But if you can master “Gethsemane,” you’ve already won the night, even if what follows demands more acting than singing. Erivo performed it standing still, eventually sinking to her knees, no flashy stage effects and yet she made the number completely her own. Fans had wondered if she’d go for the iconic “Whyyyyy” scream (a falsetto high note improvised by Ian Gillan on the original album and copied by many since). She didn’t just as she didn’t replicate the exact belt from “Defying Gravity” in Wicked. Instead, she stayed faithful to the melody, adding just enough intensity to make the garden scene feel suddenly cold and stirring. When the song ended, the house lights came up for an extended standing ovation, and she stayed locked in her haunted, glassy-eyed character. Those are the moments in theater where you wait for the big number and when it comes, it gives you chills.
But was this theater or more of a concert? The Hollywood Bowl’s yearly big musical productions always walk that fine line. (The LA Phil staged them every year until the pandemic, then resumed in 2023 with Kinky Boots, continuing the tradition this year.) Many newcomers arrive expecting a lightly staged concert and end up surprised at how fully produced it is. With Jesus Christ Superstar, that blurred line works perfectly, since the show often uses modern dress and minimal traditional scenery, and its origins are purely musical. This production found a smart middle ground. The cast played it as full-on theater except for Josh Gad’s Herod, who broke the fourth wall for some playful improvisation. Most wore standard head mics, but Erivo and Lambert used handheld, corded microphones, subtly adding a concert vibe and underlining their rock star personas something director-choreographer Sergio Trujillo has mentioned in interviews.
Lambert’s Judas was every bit the rock god unapologetically intense, fully aware that his fate is sealed. His delivery has more in common with Ian Gillan’s Jesus from the ’70s album than with Murray Head’s grittier Judas. He sounded like he could front Deep Purple + Adam Lambert, or even that other band he occasionally performs with. There was nothing understated about his performance and nothing less than electrifying from start to finish. His opening number, “Heaven on Their Minds,” which he and Lloyd Webber just released as a studio single, bursts in like the middle of a second act rather than the start of the show, and Lambert attacks it like he’s revving a Ferrari straight into high gear. By the time he reaches “Superstar,” he’s channeling an angrier Kurt Cobain lost in some neon afterlife. The show ends with Jesus’ crucifixion, then a haunting instrumental close, but Lambert knows you’ll leave humming “Superstar” and he makes sure that hook stays lodged in your head for months.
Jesus Christ Superstar isn’t strictly a two-person show, even if the leads dominate the conversation. Phillipa Soo brought warmth and heart to Mary Magdalene, shining in her ballads “Everything’s Alright” and “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.” The musical has long stirred controversy among evangelicals for suggesting romantic feelings between Mary and Jesus and leaving their true nature ambiguous. Anyone who would be offended by this, or by Jesus being played by a queer woman, probably wouldn’t attend in the first place and thus wouldn’t be fazed by Erivo and Soo sharing a tender embrace that hints at something deeper than just savior and follower. True to the spirit of Superstar, there’s room for interpretation for believers and nonbelievers alike.
Josh Gad drew headlines after missing opening night due to a positive COVID test, even though he said on social media that he had tested negative by Friday. That night, John Stamos, flown in from Spain, filled in for one performance. By Sunday, when I saw the show, Gad was back in full improvisational form as Herod, likely the main draw for some who love The Book of Mormon even more than biblical stories. Suppose there’s any part of the show that feels slightly dated (and surprisingly, most of it doesn’t despite its counterculture roots). In that case, it’s the apostles’ two lighthearted but slightly condescending numbers (“What’s the Buzz”) and Herod’s comedic song. Still, “King Herod’s Song” is a classic, the kind of show-stopping bit other productions have borrowed from, like Hamilton’s King George moments, where comedy briefly overtakes theology.
When it came to the rock element another area where productions sometimes fall short this one absolutely delivered. Musical director and conductor Stephen Oremus, known for his work on Wicked on Broadway and film, struck a great balance between the visible onstage band and the orchestra hidden behind an LED curtain after the overture. Keeping the strings and horns mostly out of sight helped keep the focus on the show’s rock roots. And JCS rocks harder than many remember even Caiaphas, played by Zachary James with a deep, booming voice, gets to deliver his lines over a driving backbeat that never feels cheesy. Lloyd Webber packed more unforgettable guitar riffs into this one show than many rock stars manage in a lifetime, and here they were played with full force.
If anything fell flat, it was the giant LED screen, which too often just displayed “JESUS” in bold block letters, as if we might confuse the show with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It mostly served to hide the orchestra not a terrible idea, as it kept the stage visually uncluttered for a piece that needs dramatic focus. When it did get more creative, like framing Erivo in front of a digital cross, it landed effectively.
Trujillo’s choreography kept the show far from anything static or pageant-like without cramming in unnecessary dance. The use of the semicircular ramp between the “pool” seats and the rest of the audience gave some especially memorable moments to the die-hard Glamberts who had paid top price for those spots.
The big question now: is this the end of the road? There didn’t seem to be any professional filming, so it may have been a “you had to be there” moment. Still, this felt like the kind of L.A. event that deserved a national audience. Resale tickets were hitting four figures by the weekend. With so many high-profile producers involved, could there be plans beyond these three nights? If Lambert and Erivo could commit, this could run on Broadway for as long as they wanted. Or maybe, since it straddles the line between theater and concert, a short arena tour could make sense. That wouldn’t be far-fetched given the talent and the fan enthusiasm here.
Then again, maybe everyone involved simply did it for the love of God or the love of Lloyd Webber whichever comes first. Just don’t tell me we’re cursed to never see this exact pairing again.
