It started with a record. Barry Dennen, who had a small part in Fiddler on the Roof, handed Norman Jewison the 1970 concept album he had sung Pontius Pilate on. That origin matters in a review of the new Jesus Christ Superstar 4K release, since the disc’s big news is a remix that finally digs the band out from under the vocals. The director of In the Heat of the Night was already hinting at a film version at Fiddler’s New York premiere. Tim Rice drafted a Ben-Hur-sized epic that got scrapped, so Jewison wrote his own script with Melvyn Bragg while scouting the Israeli desert.

A bus rolls into that desert, and a troupe of young performers piles out. They’ve come to stage the last week of Jesus’ life among the ruins. Judas (Carl Anderson) frets that Jesus (Ted Neeley) has started believing his own press. Mary Magdalene (Yvonne Elliman) tries to soothe him, and the high priest Caiaphas (Bob Bingham) decides the crowds are getting dangerous. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Rice’s score carries every beat, and there’s barely a spoken word in the whole thing.

Casting could have sunk it. Jewison weighed rock royalty for Jesus, two Beatles among them. Ian Gillan, who sang the role on the album, chose a Deep Purple tour instead. So Jewison went to the stage. Neeley and Anderson had both auditioned for Judas on Broadway and lost the part to Ben Vereen. Neeley joined the chorus and understudied Jesus, and Jewison spotted him in a Los Angeles staging of Tommy. Anderson understudied Judas and took over when Vereen fell ill, then flew from the Los Angeles production to London for a screen test. Elliman had been Mary since Rice and Lloyd Webber heard her singing in London clubs. Her single of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” had already cracked the Billboard Hot 100. All three were making their screen debuts, and each was paid the same $16,500.

The shoot was punishing. Cameras rolled at more than twenty Israeli locations, from the caves of Beit Guvrin to the ruins of Avdat. Cinematographer Alex Thomson was badly hurt falling from a camera crane in the first week. Douglas Slocombe took over. Heat near 120 degrees pushed the dance numbers to early morning and sunset, which may explain all that golden light.

Critics split down the middle in 1973. Roger Ebert called it “a bright and sometimes breathtaking retelling,” while The Washington Post dismissed it as “a work of kitsch.” The New York Times didn’t buy it either. The Anti-Defamation League warned it could fuel antisemitism, and some Christians objected to a Jesus with no resurrection. Pope Paul VI, on the other hand, reportedly loved it and predicted it would bring more people to Christianity than anything before it.

Audiences settled the argument. Made for just under $3.5 million, the film grossed $24.5 million worldwide and was the top-grossing musical of 1973 in the U.S. and Canada. The Golden Globes handed it six nominations, including Best Motion Picture (Musical or Comedy). All three leads made the list: Neeley and Anderson for Best Actor and New Star of the Year, Elliman for Best Actress. The score earned an Oscar nomination, the soundtrack won a BAFTA, and Slocombe took the British Society of Cinematographers award. Italy’s David di Donatello Awards named it Best Foreign Film. That’s a staggering run for a sung-through rock opera led by three screen newcomers.

Time has sided with the audiences, and the three leads are the reason. Anderson opens the film with “Heaven on Their Minds” and owns it within a verse. He returns in white fringe for the title number, “Superstar,” one of the great entrances in any movie musical. Neeley’s “Gethsemane” climbs to a scream that still raises goosebumps. Elliman sings “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” like a thought she’s having for the first time. Take any one of them out, and the film loses its pulse.

The full film review from this spring called it a masterpiece, and a second look in 4K only strengthens the case. Neeley and Anderson kept the partnership going on stage, touring together from 1992 to 1997. Anderson died in 2004, and Neeley, now in his eighties, still tours with the film. The framing device is the smart part. A troupe putting on a show turns a Passion play into a rock concert in the ruins, and that still feels fresh. Over half a century later, the hosannas still rock.