Theater Review: Fresno State’s “Godspell” showcases young, exuberant talent
by Heather Parish
Fresno State University Theatre’s new production of “Godspell”, directed by J. Daniel Herring, gives its student cast a chance to stretch into demanding material. Few shows ask as much of young performers as Stephen Schwartz and John-Michael Tebelak’s patchwork of a musical: tight ensemble work, sharp comic timing, rhythmic precision, and a sense of devotional earnestness that still feels playful rather than pious. This “Godspell” delivers buoyant ensemble singing and inventive, color-saturated staging. And while some scenework loses momentum, the evening has a generous spirit that ultimately wins out.
First produced in 1971, “Godspell” is a folk-pop retelling of the Gospel of Matthew (and a bit of Luke), in which a small, eclectic group of strangers comes together under the guidance of Jesus to form a community built on compassion, generosity, and joy. Told through a series of parables, vaudeville-style sketches, and folk-rock songs, the show moves from childlike theatrics to a more sober contemplation of betrayal and sacrifice. Its loose structure and colorful style make it a perennial favorite for student companies, offering performers both creative freedom and engaging ensemble work.
Herring’s approach is a playful and earnest “Godspell” full of exuberance. He leans firmly into commedia techniques like clowning, games, acrobatics, and broad, physical comedy to show the childlike exploration of with Jesus’ parables. It’s a double-edged choice, though. The clowning creates an atmosphere of joyful chaos, but it doesn’t always clarify the community’s spiritual evolution. The community is clearly merry, but we rarely see how or why it needs to be saved.

“Godspell” (2025), courtesy of University Theater.
That said, the production’s design team helps establish a striking world for this joyous chaos to unfold. The set by Dominick Callahan resembles a partially collapsed adobe church—warm, desolate, and textured with bits of stained glass and dark wood—suggesting both ruin and refuge. Costume design (Dulce Quezada and Jonathan Rodriguez-Escamilla) smartly individualizes the ensemble while keeping them visually cohesive, and the lighting (Sunshine de Castro) bathes everything in saturated technicolor washes that fit the musical’s 1970s roots without feeling dated.
Herring’s staging moves fluidly; the characters move like currents onstage even when the pacing occasionally slows the flow. The cast commits physically to the movement, embracing the dancing, clowning, and gestural storytelling with notable enthusiasm. In musical numbers, that commitment pays off. In the parables, some scenes snap with bright comic timing, while others approach somnolence. In a musical whose narrative thread is already thinner than most, those slower stretches become particularly noticeable.
The production finds steadier footing in its vocal performances. Under vocal director Shannah Estep, the cast navigates the show’s folk-rock eclecticism with confidence, even as they work with prerecorded tracks. At the center is Joey Giudici’s Jesus, whose warm presence and expressive folk-rock vocals give the production much of its soul. His sound is grounded and inviting, particularly in “Alas for You” and the vaudeville-tinged “All for the Best,” where he shares the stage with Judas (Nico Diviccaro). Dramatically, Giudici plays Jesus with near-constant equanimity. Some variation of tone or emotional temperature might have helped propel the mid-show parables, but his musical contributions never falter. Diviccaro, as Judas, has his strongest moment in that same duet, but elsewhere struggles to connect Judas’ shifting place within the community to his performance. Grant Wilkins provides a warm, steady throughline as John the Baptist—a grounding presence that lingers even after his character exits the narrative.
Among the ensemble, several performers shine in signature numbers. Audrey Allen’s “Day by Day” is tender and beautifully sung; Catricia Alvarez turns “O Bless the Lord, My Soul” into a vivacious powerhouse; and Daphne Doss and Em Monson offer a moving, plaintive “By My Side.” Liv Monson’s bold vocals in “Turn Back, O Man” add a welcome streak of sass and serve as a smart counterpoint to Giudici’s gentler presence. And in perhaps the show’s biggest showstopper, Sage Rivera leads “We Beseech Thee” with explosive charisma, igniting the ensemble into full-throated revival energy.
If the production’s community-building doesn’t always land in the early scenes, the company does succeed in creating an onstage chemistry that feels genuine. They trust one another, especially in the musical moments, and the audience responds most strongly to those sequences. At the Sunday matinee I attended, the parables drew lighter responses, but once the story shifts into its final, urgent arc of Judas’ betrayal and the crucifixion the audience’s focus sharpened noticeably. Interestingly, this emotional climax is precisely where pacing finally tightens and the storytelling gathers the momentum it has been chasing.

Godspell (2025) courtesy of University Theatre
Herring also threads political commentary throughout the show, including visual and verbal references to progressive slogans and current public figures. While the production’s viewpoint is unmistakable (and I don’t disagree!), the bluntness of these references occasionally distracts from the more universal themes of hope, acceptance, and communal responsibility.
Even with these uneven patches, Fresno State’s “Godspell” remains a showcase for these developing artists. The show’s ensemble demands are formidable, yet this little community meets many of them with heart, voice, and unflagging good will. As it stands, this “Godspell” offers abundant joy—and a reminder that building a community, even a theatrical one, is always a work in progress.
“Godspell” continues at Fresno State’s John W. Wright Theatre through Nov. 22.


