The film adaptation of Jesus Christ Superstar premiered in 1973, fifty years ago. In their reflections on JCS, the papers on this panel engage with scholarship in the study of religion and popular culture, as well as with scholarship on religion and film as visual – and aural – culture. Our panel focuses on engagements with the following questions: What does the important moment of intersection between religion and popular culture that JCS represents look like in retrospect? How have those lines shifted, blurred, or re-entrenched since? The film is one version in a constellation of adaptations, but how has the popularity of the film shaped the American imagination of Jesus and the Jesus story? How can talking about JCS and its legacy help us theorize the relationship between religion and popular culture?
Proponents of interfaith reconciliation were less than happy with the screening of Jesus Christ Superstar. The 1960s were years of huge developments in interfaith relations. Most Catholics, Protestants, and members of other faiths too, became more accepting of each other’s religious traditions and more careful when relating to members of other faiths, including Jews.
Many saw JCS as a following in a tradition of medieval passion plays that portrayed Jews as the slayers of Jesus or as the motivating cause behind his death. For some Jewish observers, the film served as a proof that while Christian leaders had changed their theological standings, older accusations against Jews did not disappear in popular culture.
The proposed presentation will analyze the text of the film, its messages, and atmosphere, and point to lack of anti-Semitic agenda. It will also explore and explain Jewish (and at times Christian) objections and responses to the film.
On the fiftieth anniversary of Jesus Christ Superstar, this paper turns to the actor who plays the titular character. While scholars have given attention to the character of Jesus internal to the film, I argue that Neely’s performance and his involvement with the film and stage production after 1973 offers a case study for exploring religion and celebrity in the United States. The popularity of Neely’s performance has made it possible for Neely’s career to be defined by Superstar; as this panel convenes he is leading a 50th anniversary screening tour of the film around the United States. While Neely says in many interviews that Superstar, on stage or screen, is new every time, his continued involvement relies upon the very lack of novelty that he insists upon. Rather than simple novelty, I suggest that Neely’s comments are best understood as a theological and liturgical claim.
In the 50 years since Jesus Christ Superstar made its debut, it has been remounted onstage in at least 11 major productions and re-filmed three times. The initial setting of the 1970’s, combined with a seemingly timeless rock score made JCS easy to reenvision in new eras. This paper will argue that the cultural longevity of JCS is due not solely to the popularity of the 1973 film, but rather its lasting influence can be traced to how the show can be molded to fit various generational contexts. This paper will look at the shifting of cultural references within three film adaptations of JCS: the original 1973 version starring Ted Neely, the 2001 version starring Glenn Carter, and the 2018 version starring John Legend. This paper will pay particular attention to how elements such as the costuming and Temple depictions shift to accommodate new times and places.
The portrait of Pontius Pilate in Norman Jewison’s Jesus Christ Superstar (1973) is an ambivalent one at best, conveyed memorably to viewers in his first extended scene, the singing of “Pilate’s Dream.” Barry Dennen had been cast for both the stage and film productions because he was a seasoned professional who could modulate his voice effectively for the difficult role. Beyond its lyrics, “Pilate’s Dream” conveys by its sound—the half-sung, half-spoken style of recitative—the prefect’s uneasy frame of mind, quite at odds with the histrionics of the trial sequences. The cinematography Jewison employs for “Pilate’s Dream” underscores this sense of vagueness. Unlike the rest of Dennen’s scenes, which take place before a crowd in the unattractive glare of the burning Israeli sun, “Pilate’s Dream” is filmed at the golden hour of dawn—in this first sight of Pilate, we look upon him in an more uncertain light.
Kathryn Lofton | kathryn.lofton@yale.edu | View |