• Evita (2018 tour)

7/6/18 (Fri), Tokyo

I hadn’t seen the stage version of Evita since Harold Prince’s original London production in 1978, which I caught 2-3 weeks after it opened. That and A Chorus Line, which was also in its initial run, were the first shows I ever saw on a West End or Broadway stage. With ACL also due in Japan next month, this is a real nostalgia trip for me. Thinking back, I realize that both productions represented a triumph of direction over material, with astonishing staging concepts that not only disguised the weaknesses in the shows but practically made them irrelevant. My experience to that point had been local or touring productions of Fiddler on the Roof and Man of La Mancha and such, so these concept-driven productions were pretty mind-blowing. Evita has been revived in various incarnations since, but this international tour is a recreation of the original overseen by Prince himself. I wasn’t going to miss it.

The only real “name” in the cast is West End star Ramin Karimloo, who has gained fans here through concerts and revues (including the misconceived Prince of Broadway); he is apparently joining the tour specifically for the Japan run and is featured prominently in the ads. The performance schedule is typically convoluted: Friday shows may be at 2:00 or 7:00 or both, Saturdays and Sundays may or may not have two shows, Monday shows may be at 12:30 or 2:00 (Tuesdays are dark). Only eight of the 31 performances are at night, none of those falling on a weekend; the final week has five matinees, two nights and one evening (5:30) show. I suppose this works for Japanese audiences, who plan far in advance for theater and rarely go on a whim. But it doesn’t make it easy for impulse buyers; the promoters have pretty much written off the working class.

The show is in effect a series of vignettes covering the high points of Eva Peron’s life rather than a traditional story with flesh-and-blood characters, reflecting its origins as a collection of songs on a record album. There’s a narrative arc of sorts, dictated by historical events, but no real book. Tim Rice has some fantastically quirky lyrical ideas (“Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” “High Flying, Adored”) with striking imagery, but he seems more interested in odd phrasing or puns (“she’s dressed up to the nines / At sixes and sevens with you”, “Lauren Bacall me”) than coherence. Many of the songs seem only half thought-out – what is “Don’t Cry” talking about anyway? And does the adverb in “I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You” make sense? Similarly, the sung dialogue is overly literal and flat, making the lyrics pointless; the characters would have been better off just speaking. There’s also some clumsy phrasing on the music, like “big apPLE”. I’ve always thought the use of a narrator is a lazy device, though it’s handled well enough, and I’m still not sure why Che Guevara is chosen for the part given that he had nothing to do with the Perons – perhaps his status, like Evita, as a celebrity icon? (Prince and Lloyd Webber have different takes on this in their recent autobiographies. The director claims that he decided that the narrator who Rice randomly named “Che” had to be that Che, while the composer claims that it was Guevara all along, including a scene where the revolutionary complained about the rejection of his insecticide patent by the Peron regime. I’m glad that latter unlikely subplot was removed.) The show has a bizarre non-concluding conclusion regarding Eva’s corpse that stops rather than ends. It feels like there’s something missing. I wonder what on earth the author wanted to say.

On the other hand, Lloyd Webber’s music is ambitious and constantly engaging. There are a few odd choices, such as the “Don’t Cry” ending that deprives the singer and us of a big finish, and the revival unwisely retains a bland song from the movie, “You Must Love Me”, that spells things out too baldly. Still, while the music is not particularly character-driven, it is exciting on its own terms. The occasional tangos and other Latin touches are nice, and the composer’s melodies are as always infuriatingly catchy. It remains one of his best scores; I wish he had lyrics to match.

The real star of the show, however, was director Harold Prince. His production adeptly shifts the emphasis from politics and power to the broad cult of celebrity. He creates pictures that instantly convey the idea that the lyrics sometimes strain to reach, like Evita’s revolving door of lovers and the musical chairs for Peron’s triumph over his rivals. That is achieved mainly with suggestive rather than realistic sets, which proves extremely effective and allows for a highly fluid show. Large video screens project occasional archival footage of the real Eva, highlighting the power of the angelic image over the more scheming Eva that we’re seeing in person. The staging is greatly aided by Larry Fuller’s choreography (especially loved the marching soldiers against the stiff aristocrats); I wasn’t even sure at times where the direction stopped and the choreography began. I’ve never heard the record that inspired the show, but I can’t imagine the material working as well without the visual concept. Whatever the show was intending to say doesn’t matter; the production says it all.

Ramin lived up to his billing with a cynical and energetic take on Che (topped by impeccable enunciation – I had to use the Japanese side-titles to follow others). The show was lucky to have him. The Eva role is triple-cast in this production; whoever I saw (the casting is not announced in advance) was fine if not overly charismatic. Robert Finlayson as Peron and Anton Luitingh as Magaldi were the best of the rest, but the supporting cast was generally solid. The material is well served.

Overall, this revival reaffirms the strength of Prince’s original vision, which immeasurably enhances the rambling material with a strong consistent concept expertly executed from start to near-finish (shame about the non-ending). Those who know the show only from the overly literal film don’t know the show at all – another similarity with next month’s A Chorus Line. A big thumbs up.