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If you or I
screamed,"Get out! Get out!" with the
screeching pitch and
pillar-shaking decibels Ted Neeley uses as
Jesus when he discovers the
temple has been invaded by purveyors of
commerce in Act 1 of Jesus
Christ Superstar, we wouldn't have a voice
left.
Even Neeley is starting to lose his pipes.
His ragged-voiced hoarseness
was one of the most obvious differences
between a one-night stand for
an audience of 2,500 Sunday night at Fraze
Pavilion in Kettering and a
previous area visit by this tour, in early
1993 at Nutter Center.
Jesus is referring to his dwindling days
on Earth as a religious leader
when he says, "It's been three years. It
feels like 30." But Neeley
could have been groaning about the tour.
If he was less than his typical restrained
but fiery best in a part he
first played in the 1973 movie version of
the '69 Andrew Lloyd Webber
rock opera, his longtime cohort, Carl
Anderson, was reliable lightning
and thunder as the betrayer Judas. From
Heaven on Their Minds through
Damned for All Time and all the way to
Superstar, he looked and sounded
the way he always has, which is like
nobody else in this part. He's the
best.
The show retains a musical vitality that
few of Lloyd Webber's later
formula blockbusters possess, and not just
because they lack the
distinction of Tim Rice's unique lyrics.
Superstar is not about sets,
effects or predictable melodies, and this
aggressive production retains
momentum, even though it has started to
lose some of the focus of Tony
Christopher's choreography.
It hasn't lost anything else that might be
crucial, although Rick
Belzer's flashy concert lighting lacked a
good deal of its magic in the
first hour due to a diluting invasion of
fading August daylight.
Perhaps to make up for that loss of
control over nature, the amplified
sound was cranked way up in the opening
minutes. What's the Buzz, with
Mary, the apostles and other citizens all
easily covering up Jesus's
raspy replies was a roar.
Maybe that's what high priest Caiaphus
(the basso-wealthy Christopher
P. Carey) meant when he complained, "This
common crowd is much too
loud."
Christine Rea was an acceptable if generic
Mary Magdalene, a part that,
like its ballads, invites unoriginal
behavior. But Jason Raize, like
Anderson, gave an all-around
singing-acting performance as Pilate, a
role originally played on the tour by
Dennis DeYoung.
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