If a one-woman take on a biblical rock opera which usually enlists hundreds of performers might sound somewhat fanciful, perhaps it's best to know that this supposed distillation was in the hands of Peaches Nisker, a stage polymath whose better-known guises as a cultish electro-rock satellite and darling of the Berlin art scene diminish nothing from her theatrical tour de force.

While many a rock star might have designs on the disciple-drawing intensity of a stage show in thrall to Andrew Lloyd Webber's blockbuster, few have the guts to pull it off.

That Nisker did so largely in a white spandex one-piece, all the while morphing between god-fearing set-pieces and the kind of vocal range many a Broadway director would admire, illustrated her outrageous talent and judgement, continually subverting while somehow giving reverence to the original.

Nisker wore a gold suit – part glittering crustacean, part space traveller – for the second part of a work of staggering scope, which frequently threatened to collapse under its preposterous ambition.

In the crazed final sequences, planted audience members first bayed for the crucifixion and then teemed on to the stage for a twerk-heavy singalong, with Peaches an arm-spreading giant totem, adorned with sexual symbolism at the centre of a weirdly uplifting earworm of a homage to death, misguided angry mobs and the resurrection.