Any doubts that JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR is a genuine modern musical masterpiece should be banished forever by the splendid production in residence at the La Jolla Playhouse through December.

Furthermore, though I will never be known as a devout religionist, I can’t imagine a more moving, more spiritual delivery of Christianity’s core story than this.

Created by LJP legend Des McAnuff for his Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Canada, this show is on its way to Broadway trailing hosannas and fomenting anticipation. Its presence here is a happy accident of scheduling which gifts the city with a triumphant of the theatrical arts.

The phenomenal team of Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber reached their peak with SUPERSTAR, melding a variety of popular music styles with savvy stagecraft to tell one of the world’s most revered stories. Howls of indignation rapidly faded before the sheer artistic impact of the work, originally released as a LP record.

(It’s quaint now, when whole radio station broadcast days are devoted to Christian rock ‘n’ roll, to remember that 40 years ago, the pairing of trashy pop music and Christian gospel seemed blasphemous to many.)

What Rice and Lloyd Webber offer, in words of powerful, gripping crudity and music packed with melody and climax, all ideal for wailing guitars and hoarse falsetto screams, is a Christ driven to his destiny by powers far beyond his human capacity to cope. Yet, wracked with doubts, torn by frustration and sick from betrayals, he never wavers from his path. He may have been divine but this Christ had also to conquer his very human limitations.

Since it first existed as a sort of recorded cantata, the work never received a definitive staging. The Broadway version, directed by Tom O’Horgan of HAIR fame, was a messy disaster even though it ran for 18 months. San Diego first saw SUPERSTAR in a 1971 concert version at the old Convention Hall next to the Civic Theatre, featuring soloists and chorus in rudimentary costume, a rock band and a small symphony orchestra. That has remained my personal favorite version... until now.

What McAnuff has done is a steam-cleaning to remove the accumulated crud then a careful cleaning and a fond polish with advanced techniques that respect and preserve the art.

So, if some of the crowds in the streets of Jerusalem resemble television images of Arab Spring protestors, that’s not a directorial gimmick, just more testament to the universality of the story. And if Herod’s court looks over-the-top in tasteless decadence, just listen to the mocking ragtime music and remember that this is the court where John the Baptist’s head was cut off to aid in the incestuous seduction of an underage nymphet.

Paul Tazewell’s costumes are drab and basic biblical until they’re not, as in the orgies or Christ’s filmy white outfits. Robert Brill, the master of function, contributes another utilitarian set with no frills, a canvas for the simple abstract projections of Sean Nieuwenhuis, always exactly right, and the melting light design of Howell Binkley, a feast of subtle technology.

There’s no doubt whose vision reigns over every element. There never is when McAnuff’s in charge. His business cards should read simply “Des Delivers.” Whether it’s Tony Awards, Broadway transfers, enormous classical rep companies or brash new regional theatres, McAnuff is your man.

For SUPERSTAR, he has emphasized the humanity of the characters, clarifying the author’s intentions and, without any noticeable modifications, settling the story into a toboggan track of dynamic drama. These actors, all of them, find depths that are not in the script and McAnuff helps them use their discoveries. Choreographer Lisa Shriver devised a loose-limbed unison style of group dancing that flexes beautifully with the ebb and flow of the story so McAnuff spread it around to increase momentum. And there’s never any small moment when the music, from Rick Fox’s fine 11-piece pit band, isn’t wondrously in sync with the action, at least partly because McAnuff himself has always dreamed of playing in such a band.

The 25 actors work in an ensemble manner befitting the august heritage of the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. Paul Nolan is a haunted, pondering, preoccupied Christ, driving Josh Young’s intellectual Judas into a frustrated froth of love and fear. Both men sing as to the manner born, with Nolan bringing an awesome poignancy to Christ’s anguish and Young clarifying the motivation of Judas through sheer singing skill.

Chilina Kennedy shapes two of the show’s best songs – “Everything’s Alright” and “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” – into magical vessels of emotional truth and carries herself with moving dignity in the magnified role of Mary Magdalene. Bruce Dow’s campy Herod and Jeremy Kushnier’s timid Pilate are excellent grab shots of history’s accidental bit players.

It may be some time before a more thoroughly satisfying production of a masterpiece will be available on a local stage. I can’t recommend it more sincerely and I particularly would hope than genuinely religious audiences find their way to the Mandell Weiss Theatre at UCSD. This is a gift that should be shared by all but could be even more special to many.

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