Playwright: music & lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, book by John-Michael Tebelak. At: Provision Theatre, 1001 W. Roosevelt. Phone: 866-811-4111; $25-$28. Runs through: Sept. 26
The milestone marking the so-called "Jesus Freak" movement of the early 1970s may have been Andrew Lloyd Webber's Jesus Christ Superstar—arguably the inspiration for the wave of Christian evangelism that gripped young Americans glutted on counterculture-chic Eastern and Pagan theologies. But close on its heels came Godspell, Stephen Schwartz and John-Michael Tebelak's fashionably hip ( but safely non-controversial ) survey of the wisdom handed down by Nazereth's most famous home-boy.
This Provision Theatre production is not your grandparents' Godspell, however—and not just because of the tribal-ethic restrictions presented by a conventional proscenium stage, even as the players parade the aisles in an attempt to breach the fourth wall. Tim Gregory's direction delivers the gospel according to Glee, the hit television series defining teen-musicals in 2010. So while "Day By Day' is no less innocuous a ditty than it was in 1972, the rest of the score has been updated by Alaric Rokko Jans to reflect orchestral styles once anathematized by wholesome white Sunday-schoolers, but now comfortably mainstream. ( Conversely, audiences will encounter no "gentle kiss of peace" among the touchy-feelies swapped by the ensemble, lip contact nowadays being a purely sexual activity. )
None of this violates copyright, understand. True to its creators' ( and Creator's ) spirit, the Godspell scripture—uh, script—is replete with dispensations allowing each company to adapt the text to its individual milieu. Thus, a line like "I will pay you in full" is, in this instance, amended with "Just as soon as the stimulus package kicks in". A character declares, "God is on Facebook. He knows everything!". And the Pharisees are introduced by the unmistakable hook of the "Addams Family" jingle.
Ultimately, the play's episodic conceit cannot help but reduce to a series of cleverly executed classroom-games—Did I mention the hand-puppet Good Samaritan scene?—led by Syler Thomas as a suitably junkie-gaunt messiah, clad in "Lifeguard on Duty" T-shirt and muffled enunciation. Still, the exuberance displayed by the ensemble is infectious, notably, Tiffany Yvonne Cox's in-your-face rendition of the soulful "Turn Back, O Man" and Maxwell Burnham's revivalist "We Beseech Thee." ( Remember this name when Million Dollar Quartet looks for replacements. ) But it's the charismatic Justin Berkobien who dominates the stage in the dual role of John the Baptist/Judas, along with the heavy-lifting five-piece band, to make joyful noise from that old-time religion.
