BWW Reviews: EVITA, New Wimbledon Theatre, September 21 2010

If one dates the genesis of the Evita phenomenon to the release of the Lloyd-Webber - Rice concept album of 1976 (when people did things like that), Evita has now been around for longer than Eva. On the road again, courtesy of Bill Kenwright Ltd, the old crowd-pleaser has pitched up in Wimbledon to tug at the heartstrings of the punters and the vocal cords of the principal.

The story is pure corn, laughably so were it not true (more or less) and largely repeated a generation later with another doomed ice blonde, loved by the populace, distrusted by the establishment. Judging by the worldwide impact of Evita and Diana, the beautiful ingenue in the big city who turns out to be a smarter politician than all the professionals, but whose own ambition is stymied by an early death, must be a universal myth, strongly appealing, if last night's house was anything to go by, to women of all ages, social classes and ethnicities.

The genius of Evita the musical, was the decision to play it as big and as straight as possible from day one to today. No gesture would be too Ethel Mermanesque, no square-headed colonel too cliched, no song too anthemic. And no eyebrow too unarched - for the moment any thought of sending the whole thing up enters anyone's mind, the whole edifice would collapse (though this can be said of many musicals). All the showstoppers are there - Oh, what a circus, Don't cry for me Argentina, Another suitcase in another hall, complete with Tim Rice's clunking lyrics ("You won't believe me / All you will see is a girl you once knew / Although she's dressed up to the nines / At sixes and sevens with you" - ouch!) - sung with verve in spectacular sets full of imperial columns and steps to heaven. Mark Powell, James Waud and Mark Heenehan do the necessary with their parts, by turns: intrusive (Che as narrator); almost humorous (Magaldi, tango singer and Eva's ticket to Buenos Aires); and underwritten (Peron as an inexplicably successful soldier / politician for all Eva's star quality chivvying him along).

Of course, Evita is really all about Evita, and Abigail Jaye deserves her nightly rapturous reception, belting out the songs, carrying the plot and, like the woman she portrays, revelling in the constant limelight. It's a role that calls for presence and energy, rather than acting (since the audience all know what's happening and why) and Ms Jaye doesn't disappoint compared with the many Evitas past.

As befits a classic of musical theatre, Evita has all the stand-out selling points of the genre and all the flaws too. Take a deep breath when the curtain rises, don't think too hard and let the spectacle and songs entertain you for the next two and a half hours. You won't be surprised or challenged, but you should enjoy it.    

Evita is at the New Wimbledon Theatre until October 2 and on tour until end October.

 

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