There’s nothing tentative about this Jesus Christ Superstar. The QPAC production charges in with strobes blazing, guitars roaring, and a cast that could probably literally raise the roof if they tried. It’s a stripped-back, modern staging with the gritty aesthetic of a rock concert, and it leans hard into the show’s most powerful weapon: its music.
Vocally, this cast is an absolute unit. The sound is relentless, but in the best way. Every harmony is tight, every solo is ferocious, and the sheer intensity gives the whole production a thrilling, almost feverish quality. It’s the kind of show that dares you to look away, and knows you won’t.
The standout here, without question, is Javon King as Judas. It’s a performance that’s not just vocally electric but emotionally layered—rage, betrayal, desperation—-all of it delivered with spine-tingling precision. Every note lands like a punch; every moment of doubt or fury feels raw and real. It’s the kind of performance that leaves a mark.
As Jesus, Michael Paynter brings vocal intensity and an understated coolness to the role. His big emotional moments, especially in Gethsemane, land with real weight. It’s a performance that builds rather than blasts, which feels like a smart contrast to King’s Judas.
Mahalia Barnes, in the role of Mary Magdalene, delivers vocals with soul and force; there’s a richness to her tone that makes songs like I Don’t Know How to Love Him compelling. That said, there are times when the performance could benefit from more softness and emotional variation. Her voice is powerful, but we don’t always feel the fragility or inner conflict of the character.
Reuben Kaye’s King Herod is a welcome injection of flamboyance and dark humour, steering the show momentarily into glam-cabaret territory. It’s unexpected, theatrical, and doesn’t overstay its welcome.
The ensemble work is tight and charged, but the costuming and movement choices lend an unexpected—and perhaps intentional—air of cultishness to Jesus’ followers. Clad in flowing, almost uniform garments and moving with a kind of choreographed devotion that borders on the interpretive, they seem more like zealots than disciples. Whether that was the point or not, it’s an eerie and intriguing touch that reframes the usual dynamic.
Musically, the production doesn’t let up. As is the way with JCS, thanks to the way it’s been written, the rock-opera score hits with unrelenting force—all grit, distortion, and drive. It’s thrilling, but also exhausting in moments.
That said, one moment that absolutely does land—and hard—is the final image: Judas and Jesus briefly reunited, after death. It’s a striking directorial choice, wordless but potent. After all the betrayal, all the pain, we’re left with something close to peace, or maybe reconciliation. It’s a subtle coda to a show that’s otherwise thunderous, and it lingers.
This isn’t a gentle or nostalgic Superstar. It’s loud, lean, and laser-focused on impact. Not everything is polished, but when it connects, it does so viscerally and leaves you buzzing long after the final chord fades.
Jesus Christ Superstar, until August 10, Lyric Theatre, QPAC, Brisbane. Book tickets here.
In her spare time, she likes long walks down the makeup aisle and performing in Brisbane theatre. You can follow her adventures on Instagram and TikTok @thebeautypalate.
