From the opening moments in which Jesus’ camouflage-clad, spiky-haired disciples tag stone pillars only to be chased by guards in Darth Vader riot gear, it’s clear this isn’t your mama’s “Jesus Christ Superstar.”

But maybe it is. Listen in on the small pit orchestra. Notice the wah-wah guitar and the stiff rhythms. The Andrew Lloyd Webber signature cheesy synthesizers. Arrangements frozen in time to match mom’s beloved 1970 “Superstar” album.

Then again, it probably isn’t for mama’s eyes. Would she appreciate go-go dancers in vinyl fetishwear rubbing against Jesus’ cross on the tortured trudge to Golgotha? Doubtful.

It’s hard to decipher at just whom the touring production of this “Jesus Christ Superstar” rock opera revival, which plays at ASU’s Gammage Auditorium through Sunday, is aimed. The modern touches — recalcitrant disciples dressed like apostles of Abercrombie, stock tickers illuminating the temple where Jesus opens a six-pack of righteousness on moneychangers — certainly suggest this production wants to borrow the more irreverent vibe of “Rent.” (That Jesus, played by Eric Kunze, wears cargo pants in the first act only begs the question: Just what is a staunch antimaterialist supposed to put in all those extra pockets?)

But a holy-rolling “Rent” like this — by virtue of its uncomfortable appropriation of pop culture — can’t help but come off as hokey as Christian rap. Those looking to divine a spiritual message from “Jesus Christ Superstar,” in the wake of the zealous film “The Passion of the Christ,” will likewise be disappointed on several levels, least of which is the fact that “Superstar” follows Christ’s last days on Earth, from the eyes of apostle Judas (a young Avery Brooks-ish Lawrence Clayton), without touching on the issue of the Resurrection, which even “The Passion” felt obligated to tack onto the ending. (An opening scene that hints at the Resurrection exists in other “Superstar” productions; here, a risen Jesus pulls a no-show even though Judas makes a posthumous return after hanging himself, a confusing and pointless excuse to tack on more singing by Clayton’s character.)

Confusion is the reigning theme in the Gammage stop of “Jesus Christ Superstar,” at the tail end of a two-year road trip for the musical. The plot is never as fully embraced as are the individual songs, a common “Superstar” complaint. But what to make of this: Whether it’s because of lazy audio mixing or Gammage’s slap-happy acoustics, vocals are near indecipherable across many of the cast members. Give up on straining to understand the sung lines through a dense mix and you’ll discover both Kunze and Clayton have powerhouse pipes — Kunze hitting wailing high notes like, well, lead singer of Judas Priest when not dropping down to a breathy lullaby for soothing contrast, and Clayton rocks the house when given room. Too bad newcomers to “Superstar” will have no idea what they’re saying.

Only Natalie Toro, borrowing the devil’s red dress to play the fleshpeddler Mary Magdalene, is saved from the hellish sound mix with her gorgeous, and entirely anticipated, ode of frustration to Jesus, “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.”

Even then, Toro and tour director Kevin Moriarty don’t quite know what to do with that ballad, allowing it to wobble between a devotional and a romantic number without settling on either side.

Across the board, Jesus’ foes are an unlikable bunch for different reasons — from a King Herod (Daniel Guzman) who’s essentially Billy Flynn from “Chicago” to a Caiaphas who’s part Rob Halford, part Emperor Ming from “Flash Gordon,” lacking any depth of character. As Pontius Pilate, Raymond Patterson comes closest to approaching depth in his role, but his singing in the first act is so laden with obnoxious vibrato, he sounds like an off-balance clothes dryer.

It’s a shame — granted, an entirely expected shame — that this updated “Jesus Christ Superstar” would try so boldly to be many things to many people and fail to reach anyone. The musical’s updated staging doesn’t make a strong enough case to appeal to younger audiences and in the process it alienates older ones.

The only reason to see “Superstar” is for the cast’s sturdy vocals. But if it’s sturdy vocals and a religious message you’re wanting, maybe I could suggest a few Baptist churches’ Sunday morning services instead?