A lot of the websites I visit this week are laden with ads for a revival of Jesus Christ Superstar on Broadway. I admit that I am thrilled. I looked at the website several times, blinded by my own reverie, before I realized this was one of those productions where they dress the actors in modern clothing. Behold, The Savior in a yellow seersucker:
When I was a young nurse in NYC, my first job was on an orthopedic floor so I took care of a lot of injured dancers. A year or two after the JCS movie was released, one smug young prick of a dancer wannabe revealed that he had a friend who was a background dancer in the movie. As about to start rhapsodizing about how much I loved the movie he said, “What a piece of crap that was!” I moved his water pitcher two inches beyond his reach.
Well, I don’t know. I guess this is the kind of well-known material that just begs for modern interpretation. Now that I think of it, the movie was all modernized, too. I accepted a blonde, blue-eyed Jesus and I didn’t question the machine gun-toting soldiers wearing silver WWII helmets and lavender tank tops. My favorite part is where the hybrid Chippendale/Pharisees climb around on rickety scaffolding and wear those big rubbery bladder things for hats – – so reminiscent of giant toilet floats.
So I don’t know. I’m crotchety, I guess. Stuck on my own time warp. So, go ahead with your seersucker Jesus. Maybe it’s supposed to be a symbol of the meaning of Easter – the Resurection, writ large as a giant Peep. I really don’t know.