(seen at the afternoon performance on 18th May 2024)
Third time that the monkey has seen Timothy Sheader’s landmark 2016 production, which strips this modern classic right back to its “rock opera” roots, ably assisted by choreographer Drew McOnie.
From the phenomenon of its debut outdoors at Regent’s Park, to the stunning indoor transfer at the Barbican Theatre in 2019, it loved the show all over again. Now on the road across the UK, the monkey dropped by its week in Wimbledon to see how things are going.
It turns out to be a bit of a mixed bag. What was once inspired, in places feels a bit old and tired. A hole in the front cloth before the show is a precursor of the lack of attention this tour seems to be receiving.
Andrew Lloyd Webber himself would be unimpressed with the “biscuit barrel” sound, the celebratory brass fanfare muddier than Judas’s morals, microphone cues missed (“clipped”) at key moments.
Lee Curran’s lighting compensates to an extent, dazzling, always picking out the vital and providing a visually spectacular ending overcoming the “bondage equipment at IKEA” crucifix used for portability. Being fair, though, the electric drill is wince-inducing.
Without a programme (sold out, would you believe) and having to rely on the show’s official website, the monkey notes no “dance captain” mentioned. Whether this, “2 show Saturday Blues,” or both accounts for the cast appearing to warm up during the show it is not sure, but it takes them a good 20 minutes to loosen and hit their stride.
Once they do, Drew McOnie’s priceless choreography sweeps us away once more. The rigid ensemble routines become more individualised, the devoted become a mob, and details like Mary’s snubbing of Judas as a ring of palm wavers form around Christ are a glory.
Reducing Tom Scutt’s design to two two-level towers with the floor cross in some ways helps focus our attention, as the acting takes place almost entirely on ground level. Thus the cast have more opportunity to connect with the audience who are able to look straight ahead rather than watch the skies.
Hanna Richardson’s Mary comes off best as soloist. Sadly the tempo of “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” is back to break-neck speed after a more appropriate Barbican arrangement. Richardson is denied the contemplation she builds, but her very adult reasoning and rushing emotions perhaps suit the orchestra’s delivery.
Her belief that “Everything’s Alright” is belied by a frown of worry, her “Could We Start Again Please” plaintive in its brokenness.
As Jesus, Ian McIntosh does not realise that with idolisation comes the responsibility of leadership until it is too late. He finds more depth in the second half with an adequate “Gethsemane” and quizzical approach to his impending death.
The watchful outsider through whom we witness events, Shem Omari James as Judas struggles with his conscience as much as finding depth in the lyric to convey them to us with conviction. He is not assisted in a revalatory moment either, as the impact of the innovative painting of hands is lost due to a lack of washing the costumes.
Faring far better are most of the Roman contingent. Jad Habchi is a creepy Caiaphas, his dream scarier than anything Herod can dole out, his gang rocking out using fabulous microphone staffs.
Sadly, Jordan Michael Todd as cover for Herod seems ill-prepared despite his own spectacular skull microphone stand. His timing is absent for his key “King Herod’s Song,” spoiling the wonderful “head on plate” effect and depriving us of the vicious sarcasm required to give the final scenes proper context.
With the “expulsion from the temple” scene another failure – too cramped on one corner of the stage and not nearly as louche as previously, the whole is a somewhat pale imitation of the original.
The score still shines, Tim Rice’s lyric has timeless bite and the energy when it arrives is high from the ensemble. With the lack of attention to detail on a daily basis, however, this is a superstar perhaps no longer quite in ascendance.
3 stars
Photo credit: Paul Coltas. Used by kind permission of the Wimbledon Theatre.