Spoiler alert! Oh, just kidding. It will surely come as a surprise to no one that the title character in “Jesus Christ Superstar” does not come to a happy end, drifting blissfully into old age and obscurity on the sands of Judea. His gruesome death is depicted with unusually lavish flair in the director Des McAnuff’s flashy revival of the pop-rock musical by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber that opened Thursday night at the Neil Simon Theater.

After he has been dragged off by Roman thugs, hands bound and a look of sorrowful resignation on his face, Jesus (Paul Nolan) returns for a flogging, with each stroke of the lash counted down and represented by vivid red splashes streaking across the electronic back wall of the set. The metal staircase on which he is splayed is then turned to face the audience, the better to expose the bleeding welts criss-crossing his back.

Next come the crown of thorns and Jesus’ agonized crawl across the stage, bearing the weight of his own crucifix. And at last, after making yet another entrance, Mr. Nolan strikes the pose immortalized in centuries of art, clad in a demure loincloth, arms held out to his sides, one leg artfully bent in front of the other, head hanging down in tortured exhaustion. Gently spotlighted, he rises from the stage as if by magic, while a giant cross, pulsing with hot gold lights, descends from above to meet him. Mr. Lloyd Webber’s churning guitar rock hits a climactic note, and the audience erupts in excited applause.