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Beyond, or below, the reach of Stigwood and MCA, the cash and carrying on over Jesus as an exploitable product continues briskly. Declaring that romantic films are through for now, Italian Director Franco Zeffirelli (Romeo and Juliet] has just announced that he is planning what he calls a "factual" film, to be called The Assassination of Christ. "This decade should be one of spiritual awakening," continues Zeffirelli, "not even a movie director should ignore it." Among those not ignoring it are the Pop and head shops offering Jesus Christ jockey shorts. And for the ladies: Jesus Christ bikinis. A radio ad for the new Jesus Watch runs as follows: "Hi kids, it's me, Jesus. Look what I'm wearing on my wrist. It's a wristwatch with a five-color picture of me on the dial and hands attached to a crimson heart."
Honest men may differ as to just how dreadful, hopeful or insignificant the commercial Jesus fad is, including Jesus Christ Superstar as its centerpiece. Balanced against the enduring metaphor, the bitter and sweet mystery that the life of Christ embodies, Lloyd Webber and Rice's rock opera seems sad enough. It is depressing to imagine what certainly is the case, that too many Americans, whether religious or not, will know no more of the Gospels and the Passion than Superstar presents. Yet with all its sins of omission and commission, the production very well dramatizes one transcendental meaning of the Passion, the Christian belief that all the men around Jesus contributed to his suffering, and that their fears and worldliness variously helped crucify him.
Equally notable is the corollary fact that anyone who sees Superstar, as opposed to the average Broadway musical, is forced to think about whether Christ was the Son of God or a man—a concern, however brief, that must be more elevating than wondering whether Lauren Bacall will lose her boy friend. There is also the consolation, not inconsiderable these days, that things might easily have been worse. For a while Tom O'Horgan was toying with the idea of a "vinyl-clad, hip Christ crucified on the handle bars of a Harley-Davidson."