JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR: Decoding the Seminal Musical
It all started with Ian Gillan and his phenomenal vocals… That was the beginning in my case. When I first heard that album, it knocked me off my feet. I was captivated by the way of singing, the ability to convey every emotion, and the creation of an image of Christ that resonated so strongly with the consciousness.
The image was no longer necessary. I vaguely remembered the film from my childhood, but I didn’t return to it. Much later, I heard the soundtrack, which piqued my interest. Jesus Christ Superstar as portrayed by Ted Neeley was different from the version by the Deep Purple vocalist. With Ted, there’s more madness, anger… much less idealism. He is a man, not a god. To this day, I lean towards Gillan’s version, but it seems that Neeley fits perfectly with the creators’ vision of this rock opera. In the film version, he excelled; he was so human, filled with all the weaknesses and emotions that characterize a person.
However, we must remember that the story is about the last days of Jesus. He is a man who has already completed years of teaching, not seeing the results of what he says, what he persuades, and has the right to give up. He has the right to stop explaining and start setting expectations. For how long can you keep repeating the same thing and, without seeing any change, continue to live in hope? Could even the Son of God do that? And after all, this story is about a man who died, like many others, on the cross, about difficult choices, and about the clash of two personalities so similar to each other—Christ and Judas. Similar, yet looking at the world differently, with two versions of its salvation.
The film is constructed on the principle of contrasting two personalities while simultaneously showing how similar these two characters were. It is a very interesting approach because Judas, being synonymous with betrayal, is rehabilitated if only we can understand and forgive the weaknesses that led to his downfall. It is love, combined with anger, that leads to the decision from which there was no return. A tragic figure, with a role to play that brought him condemnation throughout history. It is easy to judge by actions without considering the motives. Jewison’s production, however, does not rely on the final choices of the characters; it does not assign them specific meanings that they played in Christ’s passion. There are no black-and-white people here, good and bad. They are written into the script that God has arranged; they cannot free themselves from the pressure of their environment, they cannot forgive, and therefore they make decisions against their convictions. On the one hand, they are like heroes of ancient tragedies—unable to escape fate; on the other hand, this fate is their own choice, the result of free will. The vicious circle closes, which forces us to associate Judas with the betrayal of a friend, and Pilate with the one who sentenced him to death.
Ironically, these two characters are closest to Jesus, closest to understanding what he is talking about, understanding who this dreamer could be… and perhaps that is why they are punished. Being so close, they reject knowledge because it is associated with decisions they cannot make—for Judas, this is the choice of ultimate trust, the rejection of his convictions, the shedding of uncertainty. For Pilate, it means the possibility of losing power. They allow themselves to be dominated by what they should control, which breeds fear of the future. They also do not have Jesus’ guarantee, a clear directive on how they should act. They are left alone with their uncertainty. A significant part of this story is devoted to them.
JESUS AND JUDAS
Listen Jesus I don’t like what I see.
All I ask is that you listen to me.
And remember, I’ve been your right-hand man all along.
You have set them all on fire.
They think they’ve found the new Messiah.
And they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong.
In the very first scene, we get a deep characterization of Judas. He sits alone, far from Jesus, surrounded by his fans. He shouts, pleads, but does so while being out of his friend’s reach. He seems jealous, abandoned, afraid of the myth surrounding Jesus…
You’ve started to mean more than the truth you preach…
He, who was always by his side, is suddenly pushed to the sidelines. From now on, he will wait for Jesus to come to him. Through a series of taunts, criticizing his master, like a child, he will try to get his attention. He and Jesus differ in their view of the world. Judas, afraid of the crowd, believes that “making too much noise” is harmful, while Jesus openly proclaims his views, accepts the signs of adoration from his fans, but approaches them with detachment. The friendship that connects them is strange, based on the relationship of a mentor and a rebellious student. That is why Christ, when he sees Judas distancing himself, does not follow him; he leaves him alone with free will, even though he knows where this bitterness will lead him. For he got lost somewhere between respect for the man and the adoration of an idol that he sees around him. However, it is not the kind of adoration he could fit into, to which he could add his gestures. His interpretation of the role that Christ should play is completely different. It seems that he would be satisfied if he didn’t have to share this figure with the masses, if what the teacher says remained within the reach of the chosen ones who wouldn’t filter it so much through their own system of values and plans, and who wouldn’t change the meaning of his words.
Believe me, my admiration for you is still alive, but every word you say today is being distorted.
He does not have a set course of action; he doesn’t like change, nor does he like the fact that he is pushed to the second plan. He reasons in a selfish way, typical of every person, because it is imposed by feelings, by sensitivity, and at the same time determined by possessiveness. Jesus, on the other hand, thinks on a larger scale; what he dedicates himself to is an idea he wants to convey to others. However, he also sees that his efforts are largely in vain, that people indeed interpret what he says in a way characteristic of themselves—adapting the words to their own expectations and needs. What most strongly connects these two characters is loneliness—the loneliness of Jesus among the crowd and his cheering fans, and the loneliness of Judas outside the crowd, the society in which Jesus also did not fit. Judas is rejected because he opposes the idol of the people; Jesus is lonely because he is not understood. The declaration of loyalty from the followers (Simon Zealotes) brings with it the proposal to take power; the faithful want to offer it to him, they want to stand against Rome. They consider his choice of death as an escape. They do not want to allow it, they mock him, wanting to have him as their leader, the one who will defeat the opponents, regardless of how much blood would have to be spilled. But that is not what Jesus wants. He proposes living for today, does not fit into the established frameworks of society, norms, values, and appearances. He breaks away from the world of hypocrisy, does not judge by what is superficial, allows a prostitute to approach him, which Judas criticizes. For him, such behavior provides arguments to their opponents and puts not only himself but also his followers at risk.
Christ’s disciple thinks about tomorrow, thinks about what this dreamer might do, that he could lead them all into the abyss. He knows that people are weak, he knows that they will turn away from Jesus… just as he will. But Judas does not bring his grievances to the teacher. Already in the mentioned scene, we see how, while leaving, he pleads for his friend to listen to him, but he pleads in the desert, pleads where no one can hear him. He also sees in Jesus someone more than a man, and that is why he believes that it is Jesus who should reach out to him. He criticizes him in many aspects, but never says what he is truly afraid of.
Thus, one of the most dramatic scenes in the film is the farewell between Jesus and Judas. It happens to the sounds of Everything’s Alright. Despite Mary Magdalene embracing the Messiah, despite the crowd surrounding the figures, it is just the two of them. Fear is painted in Judas’s eyes, while sadness remains in Jesus’s. He finally lets go of his hand, and they are separated. Judas leaves alone, Christ, despite being surrounded by followers, remains equally lonely. Until the moment of betrayal with a kiss, Judas will appear around Jesus, will observe him, but will keep to the sidelines. By betraying him, he will unleash all his emotions and accusations. Jesus also does not keep his composure; he fears that all he does will fade away, that he will be forgotten. He orders Judas to leave, to flee, mocks him… when the emotions subside, he approaches him, but Judas rejects the gesture of reconciliation. The last time their hands touch, Judas runs away… reconciliation is now impossible. One could say that these two characters are two sides of one personality—realism versus idealism, the selfish desire to keep the other person only for oneself, confronted with openness to others. Thus, a man eternally torn, trapped in loneliness and misunderstanding, even though surrounded by a crowd of followers.
PILATE
I dreamed I met a Galilean;
A most amazing man.
He had that look you very rarely find:
The haunting, hunted kind.
I asked him to say what had happened,
How it all began.
I asked again, he never said a word.
As if he hadn’t heard.
An extraordinarily fascinating personality, filled with anger, frustration, and anxiety. He faces the most difficult choice – to stand in opposition to himself, to confront what he believes and desires, all because of the limitations paradoxically imposed by his unlimited power. This character has intrigued many. He appears in The Master and Margarita, in a Pearl Jam song, Simon Vestdijk wrote a novella about him, and Monty Python of course presented him in a satirical light. The most interesting portrayal of Pilate is by Bulgakov, who depicted him as eternally lonely. Here, he is a man who must confront his own desires and the expectations of others. He loses this confrontation. However, it’s hard to condemn him. He is constrained by the power he wields. As the governor of a Roman province, he must be more concerned with the emperor than with the people of Judea, whom those demanding Jesus’ death invoke.
We need him crucified.
It’s all you have to do.
We need him crucified.
It’s all you have to do.
Just as Judas falls prey to paradox, unable to free himself from imposed limitations, Pilate is constrained by his duties to the law, in opposition to his duties to his conscience. Did he really have a choice? It seems that the scene where he is symbolically handed the insignia of power suggests that he did not, for he made that choice much earlier – by accepting a predetermined social role from which it is nearly impossible to deviate (or rather, from which it is very difficult to deviate and requires great sacrifice to do so). He cannot escape the norms and constraints of his role. He cannot free himself from fear; the thought of consequences paralyzes him. He vents his anger because it is Jesus who is to blame for his predicament. This idealist does not want to humble himself, does not want to deny… and yet these are only words, words that can be spoken without believing in them. For both of these characters, however, it means securing a specific place in the memory of posterity. When Pilate washes his hands of Christ’s blood, not taking responsibility for his death, he flees deeper into his fear. He will never escape the sense that he has squandered something, evidenced by the scene where he contemplatively gazes at the crucified man.