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

★★★

“promises to enchant a new generation with the art of live theatre”

The Boy with Wings, a new co-production between Polka Theatre and Birmingham Rep, and based on the book by Sir Lenny Henry, is a visually stunning show perfectly packaged for younger viewers with lots of heart and some important life lessons.

Adapted for the stage by Arvind Ethan David, we follow Tunde (Adiel Boboye), a twelve-year-old boy who lives with his mum, as he pursues his dream of reuniting with his absent father. Assisted by his newly acquired best friends Kylie (Millie Elkins-Green) and Dev (Samir Mahat), Tunde soon receives a shock when he magically sprouts wings and begins to fly. Thus begins a series of events that throw the gang straight into a war that is raging between two alien races: the talking cats and the bird folk. There’s twists and turns enough to keep the children in the audience on the edge of their seats, and the show becomes a cheerful example of the futile nature of war.

This is, at its heart, a story about finding peace and commonality in starkly opposing characters; as leader of the cats, Juba (Jessica Murrain), reminds us: ‘The reasons for war can often seem many, but when it comes down to it there aren’t any’. The message a strong one, as is that of the importance of unconditional support in friendships. One only wishes someone would’ve also reassured Tunde that it’s really okay for a young boy to cry over his estranged father.

The cast overall bring dynamic performances to this quirky children’s tale. Mahat brings an infectious vigour to his role which is neatly contrasted with Elkins-Green’s suitably wiser-than-her-years, sarcastic tones. Boboye as Tunde is sweet and hopeful, while Mia Jerome as his mother, Ruth, brings delightful life to her moments of heavy exposition.

The costumes (Laura McEwen) and lighting design (Gillian Tan) are bright, beautiful and perfect for little eyes; the grand, sweeping wings of Tunde and his father are a particularly world-transporting highlight. The set design (also McEwen) is truly outstanding; it balances gorgeous imagery with diverse practical use and allows us to witness some perky parkour, dramatic character reveals, and even includes a plethora of wheelchair accessible ramps which Elkins-Green makes good use of, spinning around the stage with utter confidence.

While not branded as a musical per se, this production is let down by its songs (Arvind Ethan David and Khalil Madovi). Though the rap elements are electric and engaging – Stephan Boyce as Aaven especially brings a certain energy and humour that is hard to escape – the songs feel superfluous. The show fails to justify the need for the sung content and these moments never pack any sort of punch; whether this is from poor writing, the actors looking rather uncomfortable to be singing or a mix of both, it’s hard to tell. That said, the joyous audience participation in the finale song is enough to forgive its irrelevance to the show’s structure, and indeed the children in the audience are far more enjoying singing along than debating the merits of prose versus song.

Directed by Daniel Bailey, this show is a strong offering to the landscape of children’s theatre. It does an admirable job of squeezing the excitement of the original story onto a relatively small stage, but one can’t help but feel like the sparkle of the book doesn’t quite shine all the way through. Despite a couple of small timing and diction issues, The Boy with Wings is a joyful experience to watch and an easily accessible show for any child. Blending strong performances with heartfelt content, this show promises to enchant a new generation with the art of live theatre.

Tag Archives: Kathryn McQueen

EVITA

★★★★

The London Palladium

EVITA

The London Palladium

★★★★

“an enjoyably bold twist on a classic”