Theater Review: Long Beach Playhouse's "Godspell" (2026)

At this point, it’s customary for most live theater productions to present a stylized warning to turn off cell phones. Among the typical prattle this time is a note that may strike some as odd. The checklist mentions actors from Long Beach Playhouse walking around the room. While this is traditional to the venue’s layout, the mention here feels necessary for one specific reason. As the announcer states, if you see someone behind you, you’ve officially become part of Godspell. It’s not just a funny way to usher in the crowd; it’s the easiest way to set the tone.

This production of Godspell is crowd interactive. For those who get there early (even five minutes is fine), they will notice actors wandering around, essentially doing crowd work while playing protestors and taking phone calls. The story begins to appear the closer to start time things get, but it’s still an odd introduction. The slow immersion is unlike most shows they’ve done even in the past few years, though it’s far from the only time they’ll be turning to seats for a little assistance.

For those who mostly know the musical through the soundtrack, be prepared to be somewhat surprised. Yes, it’s a rendition of parables from The Book of Matthew through a carefree 70s lens. What story is there is more connecting thread than development. And yet, it’s hard not to recommend this show even for those more secular in beliefs. Yes, Jesus (Kenny Giles) is a prominent figure, but this version carries the original intention of being closer to how local communities are formed. This is closer to a judgment-free read of bible study, where ideas are cleverly applied to everyday life through fun crafts. 

Arguments can be made, especially to other religious contemporary musicals, that Godspell is a bit too simplistic. The opening song, for example, repeats the same seven words for minutes as actors befriend others in the cast. It’s not a bad thing, especially with its clear-eyed intentions. There’s more comedy than sadness to be found. If there’s a flaw to Long Beach Playhouse’s production, it’s that many ensemble numbers – especially with a live backing band – are too muddled to hear clearly. 

Nevertheless, the energy is infectious, and everybody’s charisma carries the story into the real core of its success. These actors aren’t afraid to spend parts of songs turning to the crowd, used to being ignored, and requesting participation. Sometimes it’s literal incorporation; others it’s small spontaneity meant to cheer everybody up. This can be seen in decisions like having audience members hula hoop or, in one corner of the room, briefly punch around a beach ball. It’s not the greatest idea in the world, but it’s charming enough to sway most cynics into at least recognizing the show’s inclusivity, this winking ability to turn literary analysis into pure camp of many forms. 

Be warned that Act II features a somewhat dark turn, though compared to the similar terrain of Jesus Christ Superstar, it is more palatable. Even so, the show’s ability to weave in more secular ideas by this point allows the show to be more a commentary on how to be a good person. It’s a story that covertly could be seen as exploring the power of groups to rise together for change against injustice. There’s a glowing sense of optimism in this show that refuses to disappear, and its easy marketability explains why Godspell is often more than the catchy songs and excuse for updated pop culture references. It’s confrontational without being aggressive.

There may be more successful Jesus-themed musicals than Godspell,  yet none work with such simple effect. By harkening back to a less intricate form of theater, it notices the power of ideas to bring everybody together. While those more familiar with its biblical themes are likely to get more out of it, there’s still enough kindness and welcome curiosity in the feedback to make it a gloriously disarming opus. Thankfully, the cast at LBP are up for the job and deliver enough to put a smile on the entire room’s face, which, in such dark times, feels like the real miracle. 

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