As indicated above, the playwright feels most comfortable having characters express themselves in street language. Most of the time that's appropriate and powerful; sometimes it's forced and unconvincing. We can assume that since Pontius Pilate (Kevin Broccoli) represented Rome as a provincial prefect, he presented an aristocratic dignity. So it's jarring to hear him defend himself using language, in every other sentence, that he must have learned from donkey drivers.
There's not a bad actor among the 20 on stage here, although the "stage" itself is pretty bad. (Big empty space, folding chairs, no graduated sightlines, no lighting.) Standouts among the performers, besides Horsley as the flamboyant St. Monica, include John Gomes, entertainingly eager as the prosecutor, El-Fayoumy; Burr Harrison, imposingly dignified as Caiaphus the Elder, holding his anger in check; and Mark Carter as an alternately feral and amiable Satan, risking going over the top but saved by well-timed humor.
The Last Days of Judas Iscariot offers a twofer: food for thought about the nature and likelihood of forgiveness, plus hellaciously good entertainment.
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