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

★★★★

“the sheer joy and exhilaration that this musical creates is off the scale”

How many Rock Anthems can you fit under a proscenium arch? It could be the opening line of a bad dad joke, but it is a genuine question. The walls of the Shaftesbury Theatre must have been reinforced to contain the high-decibel multitude of eighties hits that are crammed into “Just for One Day: The Live Aid Musical”. Act One is jukebox musical, Act Two morphs into unadulterated rock gig celebrating the day, in 1985, when music reportedly changed the world. Somewhere in between, John O’Farrell’s book has slipped in some dialogue (often witty, sometimes clunky), more than a few overt messages and platitudes-a-plenty. The historical context is accurate, but we suspect some liberties have been taken, and the characterisation is unsubtle, to say the least. Yet the sheer joy and exhilaration that this musical creates is off the scale.

Transferring from the Old Vic last year in time for the fortieth anniversary of Live Aid, it goes a long way to refresh the intention of that memorable summer’s day – that music can ‘unite the world’. A touch grand maybe, but there is something for every generation. According to the producers and writers of the show, the world is split into two camps: those who were there and those who weren’t. A flippant critique perhaps, but there is a political weight beneath the levity. Even for those who were only born a decade or two after the event there is a sense of nostalgia that the ‘old-timers’ are more than happy to share and to bequeath. It’s all about legacy, and everyone involved (including Sir Bob Geldof) are determined that the message filters through to the next generations.

The show opens with a wall of sound as David Bowie’s ‘Heroes’ cascades from the stage. ‘I will be King’, the ensemble prophetically belts out in glorious, breath-taking harmony. Each cast member is, indeed, the king (or queen) of the stage. Gareth Owen’s sound design is faultless, combining an arena’s volume with a theatre’s intimacy and clarity. Musical Director Patrick Hurley’s six-piece band is the beating heart while the performers are the unrestrained soul. Luke Sheppard’s efficient and dynamic direction keeps the narrative pumping without missing a beat. What is striking is his choice to steer completely away from replicating or impersonating the original artists. Matthew Brind’s musical arrangements brilliantly retain the ostentation and bombast of the eighties while unashamedly moulding the songs into a contemporary, musical theatre setting.

After a few cursory introductions to a few of the lead characters we are given a potted history of the events. Bob Geldof (Craige Els), on a come down from the success of the Boomtown Rats’ number one hit, ‘Rat Trap’ (in reality, close to a decade separate the two events) is having a writer’s block moment, gazing at his television set. On comes the footage from Ethiopia. He swiftly accosts Midge Ure (Georger Ure – no relation!) in order to help him get the Band Aid charity single out in time for Christmas. A parallel scenario takes place Stateside with ‘Feed the World’. It’s not enough, though, so the ‘Live Aid’ is conceived and the impossible task of organising the event across two continents in record time is chronicled in… well – record time.

We are told the story from differing perspectives. Primarily Suzanne (Melissa Jacques) in the present, and her younger self (Hope Kenna); a record store salesperson who skips her exams and university prospects to get to Wembley for the concert. Suzanne’s daughter, Jemma (Fayth Ifil) is fed the backstory while reacting with modern sensibilities to the dubiously challenged motivations and politics of the eighties. As we bounce between the present and the past, fictitious and real-life personalities mingle and clash. Tim Mahendran’s Harvey Goldsmith is a wonderfully conceived caricature of the pragmatic promoter, but Julie Atherton’s Margaret Thatcher is the comedic show-stoppper.

The humour sits well with the seriousness of the cause, although the latter tends to rupture the narrative flow with preachiness. A visit to Ethiopia where Geldof meets aid worker Amara (Rhianne-Louise McCaulsky) feels forced and is capsized by clumsy comparisons to the Irish potato famine. But we only have a couple of hours – most of which is taken up by the incredible soundtrack – so it is hard to establish the worthiness without a concise, albeit fairly simplistic, approach.

But ultimately, we cannot fail to be moved. By the events, the memories, the music and the performances. McCaulsky’s rendition of Bob Dylan’s ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’, all drones and echoing vocals, is stunning. Freddie Love’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is another highlight, along with Ifil’s ‘My Generation’. But each musical moment is a highlight. The second half of the show is pure spectacle. A real rockfest. A pure joyous gig. We are swept up, caught up and unable to resist going with the flow, so much so that we can sidestep the heavy-handed messages.

Early on in the evening, Ure gives us a solo, note perfect rendition of Ulravox’s ‘Dancing with Tears in our Eyes’. When the entire company belt out the finale – ‘Let it Be’ – we are by now dancing with tears in our eyes too. Whatever camp you fall into – whether you were there at Live Aid, or whether you weren’t; you should definitely make sure you are there now. Nostalgia has never been so good.

Tag Archives: Soutra Gilmour

EVITA

★★★★

The London Palladium

EVITA

The London Palladium

★★★★

“an enjoyably bold twist on a classic”