Viewed from the auditorium, the Passion Play is an overwhelming theatrical spectacle, which, given the numerous contingencies, (mostly) takes place with an almost uncanny perfection. Certainly at the 2010 première, despite all the adults, children, animals and technical challenges, nothing went wrong (at least nothing that I noticed). But the theatre that goes on behind the scenes is different: the word Schabernack (practical joke) comes up in conversation with remarkable frequency among all participants. Some are amused, others (Christian Stückl) less so. And the children, it must be said, are generally less inclined to jest than the grown-ups.

In the case of the tableaux vivants, bystanders often stand in the wings trying to get a laugh out of the performers, who have to remain silent in their positions. Ink is sometimes mixed into Pilate’s water so when he washes his hands they come out blue, or spirits are poured into the communion wine. “There’s a lot of nonsense which goes on,” Christian Stückl tells me. “Once they stuck a naked woman over the text on the roll with the death sentence. It emerged that the lad who had to proclaim it had never learned the text by heart, but always...