Barabbas St John's Cathedral March 13 It was disturbing, even for a non-Christian, to be put in the role of that infamous crowd in Jerusalem who had the power to decide if Jesus should live or die. On the left was Jesus, disturbingly moronic, unresponding, without the hint of a yogi about him; on the right was Barabbas, big, bad, bearded and belligerently jolly. In Barabbas, performed in St John's Cathedral as part of its 150th anniversary celebrations, we were asked to look at the people's choice, and forgive them. Forgiveness is always welcome in religious drama, but this play, written in 1928 by Michel de Ghelderode, asked uncomfortable questions. I hated the idea of the slack, defeated Christ. Through history, men and women have withstood terrible betrayals and pain, and still come through with inner strength. I should like to think Jesus was one of them. The set was simple and effective, based on Marc Chagall's circus paintings. I would have hoped for more inventive physical theatre elements to this production. In the prison scene there was too much crouching, and although the step ladders were effective perches for a Chagall-style fiddler or a crucifixion-watcher, and were an interesting visual echo of the crosses being set up on the neighbouring hillside, I did not feel they were fully used. The London Globe Theatre Company rose above the sometimes stilted text - but occasionally they were caught out by the echoes of this big church and some speeches swept around the blue rafters rather than into the audience. Peter Pacey's effete upper-class twit of a Herod and Jonathon Morris' impassioned Judas were enjoyable. Nigel Miles-Thomas was a charming Barabbas. No Jeffrey Dahmer-style incarnation of evil about this kohl-eyed murderer, instead Barabbas was a Jewish Viking, killing because it was convenient, and quickly showing remorse that he was free and Jesus was not.