Tag Archives: Aaron Lee Lambert

MARTIN GUERRE

★★★

The Old Vic

MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

★★★

“The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving”

They say that a musical is never truly finished. Any form of dramatic entertainment will change through workshops, regional runs, transfers and previews, but a musical work will often reappear years later with radical changes, cuts, additions and rewrites. Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg’s “Martin Guerre” was first staged in 1996 and has since been through many revisions. The current revival has brought Annabel Mutale and Paul Hodge on board contributing new lyrics, with the formidable director and writer Matthew Warchus lending his capable hands to reshape the material. It is a much shorter, and more pared down, theatrical performance from the creators’ most famous spectacle – ‘Les Misérables’ – but there are hints of the extravaganza it could become with the jostling crowd scenes, ensemble flag waving, dramatic orchestral sound and historical French setting (even though the accents seem to be running around the Yorkshire Moors somewhere).

Played in the round, there appears to be a lot going on. But if you pick away at the flesh, the bones of the story beneath are quite brittle. Martin Guerre is chosen for an arranged marriage to Bertrande but is bizarrely driven out of town by mob rule for failing to sleep with his wife (she doesn’t fare much better either). Martin seeks solace on the battlefield for seven years before returning to a hero’s welcome. But all is not what – or more crucially who – it seems to be. Set in the 16th century and inspired by true events, there are elements of witchcraft, lynch law, superstition and patriarchy in a male dominated society. The current iteration of the show, however, shifts more focus onto Bertrande, placing her more firmly in the spotlight. Liv Andrusier is a spirited Bertrande who seems to know much more than she is letting on. In more ways than one, the husband who returns to her seven years later is not the man he used to be, but we never really discover how complicit Bertrande is to the story’s central premise of stolen identity.

To those unfamiliar with the narrative, much of the opening twenty minutes can be bewildering and not a little confusing. Not enough time seems to be spent on building the characterisation, which makes for a less compelling experience. Sung through, some of the lyrics are lost in the mix during the ensemble numbers, yet when the lead performers break into the solo numbers, the effect is quite magnificent. ‘Someday’ is a highlight, demonstrating Andrusier’s powerful yet wistful voice. The band, under Matthew Jackson’s musical direction, drive the musical throughout at a steady pace, with elements of folk and madrigal cutting through Tom Curran’s lush orchestration.

But overall, there is little to grasp onto emotionally, despite pockets that do bring us to the edge of our seat; particularly the moment when Bertrande, presented with a ‘Sophie’s Choice’ kind of dilemma, has to decide, and prove to the court, who her husband truly is. The programme credits two of the cast (Alex James-Hatton and Shane O’Riordan) to the role of Martin Guerre, but in the course of the evening we learn otherwise. Meanwhile, Barney Wilkinson’s Guillame tries to be one step ahead as the jealous villain of the piece whereas it is, in fact, Colin Ryan’s village idiot – Benoit – who really has the answers.

The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving. Yet the dramatic and symphonic presentation doesn’t hide the fact we leave with unanswered questions. At just ninety minutes, motivation and context get short shrift. We need more individual connection and background to understand better why the villagers behave the way they do. It is gripping in its own way, but it is neither epic, nor does it quite have the intimacy of a love story. For a show that deals principally with identity, it is still in search of its own (which is the main crux of this semi-staged, preview production). With Schönberg’s quite beautiful score the solution can’t be far away. But as they say: a musical is never truly finished.


MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

EVITA

★★★★

The London Palladium

EVITA

The London Palladium

★★★★

“an enjoyably bold twist on a classic”

In a theatre landscape overrun by the contemporary glitz of Six, & Juliet and yet another adaptation of an early 2000s chick-flick – it’s a big ask to dazzle audiences with a seventies relic telling the tale of an Argentine political powerhouse, but Jamie Lloyd’s new production of Evita certainly gives it a good go.

From the off it almost feels as if you could be sitting in NYC watching the recent Sunset Boulevard: this is classic Lloyd. We’re talking sparse stage, bleak colours and characters refusing to look each other in the eye. But despite the harsh initial impression it leaves, this production of Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s classic musical packs a mighty punch and certainly pushes the boat out for what we’ve come to love and expect of the usually colourful, safe Lloyd Webber shows.

Just in case you’ve managed to dodge the plot for the past fifty years, Evita follows the story of Eva Peron, an Argentine political leader and second wife to former president Juan Peron. We follow Eva from her days of ambitious youth in the slums of Argentina to her remarkable ascension to power and fame, and finally through to her untimely demise. Rachel Zegler takes on the role of Eva with fierce, soaring vocals that bring a desperately needed new lease of life to this score. The American actress exudes seemingly endless energy as she struts, gyrates and bops her way around the stage (choreography by Fabian Aloise). Indeed, Zegler barely has a moment to catch her breath (as emphasised by Diego Andres Rodriguez, who plays Che, sneaking her water bottle onstage mid dance break) and is present for Eva’s entire journey. Despite her youth, Zegler plays the two decades span of Eva’s life with clarity and grace; often reminding us that Eva herself was only thirty-three years old when she passed away from cervical cancer. However, one can’t help but wish Zegler would step outside of her box a little more and really take the bull by the horns: a little less prettiness and a little more grit would been welcome.

Throughout Lloyd’s updated production one can really tell they are watching a show made for 2025. Some of the modernisms work beautifully (groovy drum solos during Dangerous Jade and the ensemble twerking to Eva, Beware of the City; I’m looking at you) and some of them really miss the mark: the Camp Rock style E-V-I-T-A chant implanted into Rainbow High implants the audience in entirely the wrong atmosphere.

A much-anticipated stand out moment of the show was of course Zegler’s Don’t Cry For Me Argentina delivered live from an outside balcony thanks to the help of some handy camerawork. For those of us inside the theatre, it really felt as if Eva was becoming untouchable as she rose power; no longer a tangible entity for us to hold. Either that or she was out with her Descamisados in the street and we, the elite, were not privy to her love stuck inside our bejewelled theatre boxes. Either way the FOMO was real.

The plight of the Descamisados (‘without shirts’ in Spanish which is quite literal for Rodriguez in this production) has never been more clearly shown than with the brutal visuals of Che; bloodied, battered and cowering on the floor, cruelly doused in paint in the colours of the country he adores. Rodriguez brings a charismatic charm to the role which matches the sass of Zegler perfectly. Indeed, the pair have beautiful chemistry, playfully flirting their way through the score in an effort to make Eva’s rise and Che’s fall all the more heartbreaking and impactful.

The design elements of the show (Soutra Gilmour set and costume, Jon Clark lighting and Adam Fisher sound) take a while to get going. One feels, much like Eva’s own story, that the show peaks in the middle, with the bookends being a little sluggish and dull. While Zegler prances around mostly in a bralette and shorts (not what you typically expect of Eva Peron), the ensemble costumes seem to grow to match the acquisition of Eva’s wealth. There’s a nice touch towards the end of act one as the ensemble emerge dressed identically to the two Perons: a people united in reflecting their leaders.

The real standout song of the show is The Art of the Possible. Traditionally a moment devoted to the hyper-masculine, military ensemble, Llyod has reimagined this moment as a beautiful reminder of the power Eva held. While still sung by men, the song is led by a female ensemble member who, whilst dressed to the nines in a pseudo military get up, exudes power and sultriness as she guides each female assassin standing behind the soldiers in their executions. Deaths that come in the package of a popped balloon (or not popped in the case of one poor ensemble member) and Argentinian blue confetti.

We are happily appeased by the traditional image we crave of Eva Person – the jewels, the gown, the blonde hair – though Zegler’s stark stripping of these elements as we watch through the camera lens is yet another reminder that this is a show that’s fighting back against our desires. Still, the act one finale gives us the grandiose we yearn for: more confetti canons than you’ve seen in your life and elated ensemble vocals drowning out a bloodied, broken Che. In fact, the ensemble excel throughout and seamlessly fill the stage with their flowing, coordinated movements, though one does feel these start to get samey pretty quickly. The ending, much like the beginning, is stark, modern, and just a little uninteresting given the heights we’ve seen this show reach before. Despite a few teething problems (a very noisy backdrop that insisted on being lowered during quiet songs and the ensemble’s lack of ability to coordinate their consonant placement) this production holds real power and is a clear reminder of the harsh, cruel reality of Evita’s story.

While the highlighted elements of elected power versus the power of the people are certainly relevant to today’s bleak political landscape, the show lacks the overall gritty punch of a call to arms. But whether this is the most needed piece of theatre right now or not, it’s certainly an entertaining night out and an enjoyably bold twist on a classic.



EVITA

The London Palladium

Reviewed by Kathryn McQueen

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

QUEEN BY CANDLENIGHT | ★★★★ | April 2025
FIGARO: AN ORIGINAL MUSICAL | ★★ | February 2025
HELLO, DOLLY! | ★★★★ | July 2024
THE ADDAMS FAMILY A MUSICAL COMEDY – LIVE IN CONCERT | ★½ | February 2024
TRUE TALES OF SEX, SUCCESS AND SEX AND THE CITY | ★★★½ | February 2024
DEATH NOTE – THE MUSICAL IN CONCERT | ★★★★ | August 2023

 

 

EVITA

EVITA

EVITA