Anyone questioning the veracity of this assertion need only visit the Marquis Theater, where a lavish, worshipful wake is being held for Mrs. Perón (1919-52), the onetime first lady of Argentina. Michael Grandage’s revival of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s “Evita,” which opened on Thursday night, is from beginning to end so stately and sober-sided that you may feel out of place if you’re not wearing your best black.
As it did when it was first staged on Broadway in 1979, this bio-operetta begins and ends with the funeral of its title character. But unlike that earlier incarnation this version by Mr. Grandage (the terrifically talented director of “Red” and “Frost/Nixon”) never seems to whip up any human life in the intervening two hours of sung-through flashbacks. Despite the hard work of its spirited leading lady, the Argentine actress Elena Roger — supported by a barely there Ricky Martin and a sterling Michael Cerveris — this musical combination of history pageant and requiem Mass feels about as warmblooded as a gilded mummy.
The glacial temperatures may shock theatergoers who saw “Evita” three decades ago. Though critics weren’t much impressed by the show then, audiences found their way to it, partly because of Harold Prince’s adrenaline-pumping Brecht-meets-Broadway staging and partly because of the white-hot performances of Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin.
It was generally acknowledged then that “Evita” showed little depth as either a study in politics or a character portrait. (Writing in The New York Times, Walter Kerr memorably described it as “a bold step backward into — of all things — the medieval morality play.”) But it struck a nerve in a society that was just beginning to view celebrities in the prophetic terms of the pop artist Andy Warhol.
The “Evita” of the late 1970s was good looking, groomed to a high sheen, two dimensional and sophisticatedly star struck, just like a Warhol portrait on the cover of Interview magazine. What’s more, it seemed to possess something called irony, a characteristic that had yet to grow into the default point of view for young Americans. The show cleaned up at the Tonys, made stars of Ms. LuPone and Mr. Patinkin and, despite a flat-line 1996 film version starring Madonna, is still fondly recalled as an emblem of the days when Broadway had sex appeal.
Sexy is not a word that comes to mind with Mr. Grandage’s production, which originated in London in 2006. This version is, above all, sincere, even pious. Not so much toward Eva Perón (who died at 33 and, as the opportunistic wife of a dictator, remains a deeply, er, divisive figure) as toward Mr. Lloyd Webber and Mr. Rice’s work. Designed by Christopher Oram in a style that brings to mind the Metropolitan Opera at its most traditional, this production accords “Evita” the kind of respect usually reserved for Verdi and Wagner.
In other words “Evita” isn’t just showbiz, kids. It’s art. And as the show (with running commentary from Mr. Martin as Che, the disdainful, socially conscious narrator) follows its heroine’s meteoric career in the Argentina of the 1930s and ’40s from small-town social outcast to big-city actress and party girl to the most powerful woman in South America, it never cracks a smile.
This is true even when Mr. Rice’s libretto is sardonically chronicling Evita’s upwardly mobile game of musical beds during her early years in Buenos Aires (in the song “Goodnight and Thank You”). And Mr. Rice’s lyrics are tough going when they’re served without an occasional arched eyebrow. (The young Evita on life in the provinces: “Who could ever get kicks in the back of the sticks?” The older Evita as she prepares for a world tour: “I’m their product/It’s vital you sell me/So Machiavell me.”)
As the show’s center Ms. Roger, who was embraced in a bear hug by the London critics five years ago, embodies that unblinking reverence. In looks and self-presentation her irony-free Evita may well be closer to the real Eva Perón than anyone who’s played her before. I very much enjoyed her early scenes as the young Eva Duarte, a scrappy, mousy girl who is set apart from the crowd only by pure force of ambition. (Rob Ashford’s smooth choreography, which presents every possible variation on the tango, is at its liveliest here as well.)
But as she morphs into Eva the diva, growing blonder with each scene, Ms. Roger never gives us much by way of character definition beyond that same grimly focused determination. In her memoir Ms. LuPone wrote of her early days of rehearsal with Mr. Prince: “I knew Evita had to have a sense of humor. She had to have a wink in her eye, or the audience would not be able to come to her, or me playing her.”
Ms. LuPone was right. Without a wink Evita is not exactly a good-time gal, and here we never feel even an artificial warmth that might explain her immense appeal to the working classes. And there’s little variety or seductiveness in Ms. Roger’s singing voice, which is sharp and nasal, especially in the upper registers of the vocally punishing part. (You can see how she would have been good as Édith Piaf, whom she portrayed to acclaim in London.)
As Juan Perón, the man Evita made (in all ways), Mr. Cerveris (“Sweeney Todd,” “Assassins”) is, as usual, just about perfect. Though the Colonel Perón of “Evita” is mostly portrayed as an empty suit (or military uniform), Mr. Cerveris fills him out with a finely exaggerated mix of pomposity, uncertainty and raw appetite. And he’s the only one of the stars here who finds the vocal richness in Mr. Lloyd Webber’s melodies.
As Che, Mr. Martin, the chart-topping pop star, is thin voiced, polite, vaguely charming and forgettable. The intensity that Mr. Patinkin brought to the part has been discarded (along with the stringy hair and revolutionary battle fatigues), and this Che is a subversive you could bring home to meet the folks.
But I haven’t even touched on the main reason that this “Evita” was doing big business even before it opened. That would be the score by Mr. Lloyd Webber (whose “Jesus Christ Superstar,” also written with Mr. Rice, is on Broadway this season as well). Say what you will about Mr. Lloyd Webber, no composer since Puccini has managed to write tunes that adhere so insistently to the memory.
I thought I was fully immune to the show’s signature song, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” from having heard it everywhere (even discos) in my youth. But darned if that slippery thing, whose melody is a repeated leitmotif in the show, hasn’t attached itself like a leech all over again. And can anyone advise me about how to expel from my brain the jinglelike refrain, “I wanna be a part of B.A./Buenos Aires — Big Apple.” The show’s ads, borrowing from Mr. Rice’s lyrics, have it that “the truth is she never left you.” No, the notes she sings were just lying dormant, like a virus, waiting to infect our systems all over again.
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Bloomberg News
`Evita' Returns With Grand Sets, New Eva, Ricky Martin
by Jeremy Gerard
Rolling fog suffuses the slums and palaces of Argentina in “Evita,” the second and far better Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice revival to have opened on Broadway in as many weeks.
Dating to 1979, and more sophisticated in its storytelling and music than “Jesus Christ Superstar,” “Evita” begins with the end: flickering newsreels depicting the state funeral of Eva Peron, whose death at 33 in 1952 concluded a life devoted to power, couture, saintly deeds and ransacking the public coffers.
All her garish shenanigans are eerily rendered in chiaroscuro through the billowing clouds of mist and moody, monumentalist settings in Michael Grandage’s fevered production.
At the center is Elena Roger, a petite Argentine soprano who delivers a charismatic performance as the ambitious nobody who box-springed her way up the power ladder, from the provinces to the Casa Rosa in Buenos Aires as the wife of dictator Juan Peron.
In the first act’s terrific one-two punch, Eva and Juan (the electrifying Michael Cerveris) sing “I’d Be Surprisingly Good for You,” envisioning their plans as cold-bloodedly as the Macbeths.
At the same time, she gives the boot to his current mistress, who ends up on the street below singing “Another Suitcase in Another Hall.” One of Lloyd Webber’s loveliest melodies, it’s beautifully sung by Rachel Potter.
Rice and Lloyd Webber’s audacious idea was to drop Che Guevara (Ricky Martin) into the action. The revolutionary hero comments mostly from the sidelines as the Perons promise redemption to the shirtless poor while stealing everything in sight.
Eschewing the character’s familiar military fatigues and stogy, Martin plays Che (who never had anything to do with Argentina) as a populist observer. He’s more the jaunty, glinty- eyed critic than the embodiment of dashed hopes. In an open shirt and suspendered slacks, his eyes crinkled and mustache a bushy wonder, Martin exudes bonhomie.
That’s not enough to offset the comically shameless Perons, especially given Rice’s compressed libretto. We’re left to connect a lot of dots.
In her Broadway debut, Roger has plenty of the star quality Evita sings about. I worry how long her voice, a little brittle at the top, will hold up, even on a limited performance schedule.
Along with a magnificent sound, Cerveris’s bottomless eyes make up for what’s shortchanged in Peron’s barely sketched character. Max Von Essen plays Eva’s first stepping stone, a provincial entertainer, with just the right dash of pomposity.
Grandage and choreographer Rob Ashford offer two hours of swirling motion with crowds clamoring for human rights and dancers turning tangos into erotic tableaux. It all subtly underpins a score that occasionally swells into grandiosity,
Christopher Oram’s sets take us to grand plazas and to the living quarters of the presidential palace. His costumes range from rough tatters to Evita’s voluminous white-sequined gown, altogether offering knockout visuals.
With his trinity of mesmerizing public figures (the Opera Phantom, Jesus and Eva Peron) on Broadway, Lloyd Webber himself returns to star status. The other names attached to these shows may not even matter.
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Variety
Evita (Marquis; 1,612 seats; $142 top) by Steven Suskin
A Hal Luftig, Scott Sanders Prods., Roy Furman, Yasuhiro Kawana, Allan S. Gordon/Adam S. Gordon, James L. Nederlander, Terry Allen Kramer, Gutterman Fuld Chernoff/Pittsburgh CLO, Thousand Stars Prods., Adam Blanshay, Adam Zotovich, Robert Ahrens, Stephanie P. McClelland, Carole L. Haber, Ricardo Hornos, Carol Fineman, Brian Smith, Warren and Jale Trepp presentation of a musical in two acts with music by Andrew Lloyd Webber; lyrics by Tim Rice. Directed by Michael Grandage; choreographed by Rob Ashford. Music direction, Kristen Blodgette.
Che - Ricky Martin Eva - Elena Roger Magaldi - Max Von Essen Peron - Michael Cerveris Mistress - Rachel Potter Chile - Maya Jade Frank/Isabela Moner
Director Michael Grandage scores with a dynamic new "Evita," graced by an impressive performance from Argentinean actress Elena Roger and the ticket-selling presence of recording star Ricky Martin, who acquits himself nicely if not remarkably. The 1979 Andrew Lloyd Webber-Tim Rice poperetta comes off fairly well in its first Broadway revival, thanks to a director who doesn't seem crimped or intimidated by Hal Prince's striking original staging. That said, the flaws inherent in the material -- typified by grasping-at-straws rhymes like "That's what they call me/so Lauren Bacall me" -- remain. Look for boffo biz so long as Martin chooses to stay.
Buenos Aires thesp Roger took London by storm when she appeared, virtually unknown, in Grandage's 2006 production (here reassembled with a mostly American cast). Roger's voice is not so big as some of her predecessors in the title role, but no matter; she gets to the heart of the character. (The actress plays a six-performance week, with Christina DeCicco on the boards Wednesday evenings and Saturday matinees.)
The big attraction, though, is Martin, who previously appeared on Broadway (prior to stardom) as a replacement Marius in the long-running original production of "Les Miserables." Here he takes on the co-starring role of narrator/commentator Che, and while his fans will surely be thrilled with the results, a non-pop-oriented theatergoer might find him merely fine in the role, with nothing in the performance to suggest he's an international superstar.
The authors have stripped "Guevara" from the character's name, a choice that makes a more-than-subtle difference. Mandy Patinkin was memorably dynamic in the original Broadway production because he could guide us, with a swagger, through Evita's rise -- from small-time actress to Gen. Peron's latest flame, from power-hungry dictatoress to iconic "Santa Evita." Martin isn't given Guevara's scraggly locks or, for that matter, much of a character to work with; he does everything well, but there's no opportunity to seize attention from his castmates. In a classy gesture, the top-billed star gives the final bow to Roger.
Michael Cerveris offers some surprises as Peron; sexual sparks fly as the general and his new lady tango in "I'd Be Surprisingly Good for You," which makes his character more intriguing than usual.
Grandage -- known here for "Red" and "Frost/Nixon," both of which originated during his recently ended 10-year reign at London's Donmar Warehouse -- reunites with his design team from those plays: Christopher Oram (sets and costumes) and Neil Austin (lights). Everything looks stunning.
Also returning from the 2006 West End production is choreographer Rob Ashford, director/choreographer of Broadway's current "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." This "Evita," starting with a dazzling sequence during the song "What's New, Buenos Aires," is the most impressive work New York has yet seen from Ashford.
Lloyd Webber and Rice interpolate "You Must Love Me," written for the 1996 film version, but it doesn't enhance the problematic second act: After the rousing "Rainbow High," Evita gets sick and starts to die, as does the musical.
Lloyd Webber and longtime musical associate David Cullen have provided new and reduced orchestrations, which are loudly amplified but not as rich as the originals; the substitution of an electronic keyboard for what had been a prominently featured harp, in particular, is an unfortunate economy. New-for-2006 dance arrangements devised by David Chase for choreographer Ashford are an asset.
Sets and costumes, Christopher Oram; lights, Neil Austin; projections, Zachary Borovay; sound, Mick Potter; wig and hair, Richard Mawbey; orchestrations, Andrew Lloyd Webber and David Cullen; dance arrangements, David Chase; production stage manager, Michael J. Passaro. Opened April 5, 2012. Reviewed March 31. Running time: 2 HOURS, 5 MIN.
With: Ashley Amber, George Lee Andrews, Eric L. Christian, Kristine Covillo, Colin Cunliffe, Margot de La Barre, Bradley Dean, Rebecca Eichenberger, Melanie Field, Bahiyah Sayyed Gaines, Constantine Germanacos, Laurel Harris, Nick Kenkel, Brad Little, Erica Mansfield, Emily Mechler, Sydney Morton, Jessica Lea Patty, Aleks Pevec, Kristie Dale Sanders, Timothy Shew, Johnny Stellard, Alex Michael Stoll, Daniel Torres.
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Associated Press:
At 'Evita' revival, 1 performer shines by Mark Kennedy
Much of the buzz coming from the new revival "Evita" has been about the spitfire Argentine playing the title role. But all of the heat actually comes from the guy shaking his bon-bon.
Ricky Martin is easily the best thing about this revival of Andrew Lloyd Webber's bio of Eva Peron, which opened Thursday at the Marquis Theatre. He sings beautifully, dances gracefully, athletically climbs ladders, plays his role with a knowing sneer and elicits drools in his suspenders and tight white shirt. He even makes a mustache work.
In fact, maybe it's time for Broadway to have a new rule: Put Ricky Martin in everything. He would fit in happily at "Newsies." He would definitely enliven "Death of a Salesman." Heck, put him in "Mary Poppins" and watch the roof really lift off.
Crisply directed by Michael Grandage ("Frost/Nixon"), with high-kicking choreography by Rob Ashford ("How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying"), this showy iteration of "Evita" had a yearlong run in London in 2006-07 and returns to Broadway for the first time since it opened there 33 years ago.
Of the three leads in London — Grammy Award-winner Martin as Che, the spokesman of the working class; Elena Roger as the ambitious Eva Peron; and Michael Cerveris as Juan Peron — only Roger has made the trip to Broadway. It was a risk: The petite Roger, who received lavish praise in the West End, may actually be from Argentina but is virtually unknown in the U.S.
Yet while Roger admirably throws herself into every tango and commands the spotlight, her voice doesn't always seem up for the demand of Tim Rice and Lloyd Webber's songs and gets a bit screechy at the higher registers.
Her Evita, overall, is more insistent and feral, less charismatic and glamorous. She barely pulls off such great lines as "They need to adore me/so Christian Dior me" and "Stand back — you wanna know what'cha gonna get in me/Just a little touch of star quality!" Madonna, who played the crypto-fascist first lady on film, didn't have the authenticity, but at least made those work.
Roger's "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" is good without being brilliant, and her "You Must Love Me" is lovely, though a tad angry. Tony Award-winner Cerveris is typically solid, able to add a neediness and tenderness to a Juan Peron who is thinly written. But Martin, whose repertoire of pop songs includes "Shake Your Bon-Bon" and "Livin' La Vida Loca," outshines them both with a youthful vigor that escaped Antonio Banderas in the film. Martin seems to catch the eye whatever he does: prowling the stage, mocking the Perons or just leaning against a wall.
Those walls, by the way, are gorgeous. Christopher Oram's balconies, palace facade and a piazza — all warmly lit by Neil Austin — are stunningly lifelike and rich. They even move forward or back to highlight moments. The use of two levels highlights the divide between the unwashed and the awash in jewels.
Ashford pulls out all the stops in the dancing. His soldiers are menacing, and his peasants have mastered a chin-raised, high-leg style punctuated by plenty of handkerchief waving. The group tangos aren't so regimented that individual couples don't shine and, at some points, the performers on stage add to the percussive rhythm by banging tables or stomping their feet. The music is big, brash, and the orchestrations — by Lloyd Webber and David Cullen — emphasizes Latin flavors.
And yet there's something distancing about this "Evita." Partly that's due to a fragmentary score that is steeped in opera in the first act and then gets Broadway brashy by the second. More than "Jesus Christ Superstar," the other sung-through Rice-Lloyd Webber revival that recently opened a few blocks away, listening to "Evita" reminds us that before it was a stage musical it was a concept album.
Another thing that all the great voices, sets and dancing can't overcome is the apparently contradictory feelings Lloyd Webber and Rice have for Eva Peron. Was she a cynical, bed-hopping manipulator who rose to power out of thirst for power or did she really have her peoples' interest at heart?
Both visions compete furiously in "Evita" and even clash in the same song, "Santa Evita," which can be seen either as a cynical public stunt between Peron and a child or a heartfelt moment of populist politics.
As in "Jesus Christ Superstar," Lloyd Webber and Rice are exploring the caustic intersection of politics and showbiz. There's one thing "Evita" has that its sibling does not, and that's a guy named Ricky. Hugh Jackman has some competition as king of Broadway.
I thought Ricky was surprisingly good, but to say he "outshines" the others is ridiculous. I think the reviewer has a crush.
Helen Rodgers (I know) seemed a bit stronger in London to me, but I certainly didn't notice any missed notes. To please some critics apparantly you need to put on an Alexis Carrington-act (over-act) to portray a strong woman.
No word on Max von Essen as Magaldi in the reviews. I really liked his voice.
Last night, “Evita” returned after a 30-year absence from Broadway. The wait was worth it: This is a big, fat, juicy blockbuster of a show.
Naturally, everybody’s flipping out over the hot new bombshell in town. Usually we mean the actress in the title role, but this time it’s the guy who plays the narrator: Ricky Martin — you may have heard of him?
And does he deliver! Despite being vocally underpowered at times, Martin is a supernova of charisma in the key part of Che, a Zelig-like Everyman always hovering on the side of the action. (A country where every man looks like Ricky Martin must get a lot of tourists.)
This is just one of the many things that Michael Grandage’s lavish, large-scale revival gets right, another being Rob Ashford’s energetic, tango-inflected choreography.
And “Evita” deserves no less than a full-on, high-octane deployment.
Packed with memorable tunes (“Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina,” “Buenos Aires,” “Another Suitcase in Another Hall,” “High Flying, Adored”), Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s propulsive, challenging sung-through musical is a modern masterpiece. The only relatively weak bit is “You Must Love Me,” which was written for the 1996 movie and feels generic compared with the older tunes.
In retelling the dramatic life of Eva Perón, Argentina’s former first lady, “Evita” goes for broke. There’s no other option when your semi-mythical subject didn’t just die — in 1952, at age 33 — but “entered immortality.”
Here, she’s played by Elena Roger, a petite, slender Argentine who’s equally believable as a teenager, an ambitious striver sleeping her way to the top, a populist president’s wife and a woman destroyed by cancer.
With her beaky nose and red slash of a mouth, Roger is an outstanding actress; it’s no wonder she was nominated for a 2007 Olivier Award when this revival originated in London.
Far from a saint, her Evita can be sexy, prickly, demanding, capricious. You easily understand why men fall for her, notably tango singer Agustín Magaldi (Max von Essen) and Col. Juan Perón (Michael Cerveris, in glorious voice).
Roger isn’t quite as convincing as a singer — we’re far from early Evitas such as Elaine Paige and Patti LuPone. Her upper range can get shrill and unsteady in “A New Argentina” and “Rainbow High.” And she worms rather than barrels her way through “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” which seems here like an intimate plea with her countrymen rather than a self-centered lament.
Roger moves well, and at barely 5 feet tall, she stands out in a large ensemble — even when Martin’s nearby, which is saying a lot.
Overall, the show has lost the subversive edge of Harold Prince’s original staging, trading a stylized, minimalistic black box for Christopher Oram’s outsize, realistic sets.
But there’s no denying the nearly physical impact “Evita” has on an audience. The woman and the show are back for good. Don’t keep your distance.
Andrew Lloyd Webber gets a lot of abuse, and deserves most of it—but not for "Evita," which is so much better than "Jesus Christ Superstar" that you wonder how both scores could have been composed by the same man. Whatever its deficiencies as history, "Evita" is a formidable piece of theater, and Michael Grandage's revival, which has now transferred to Broadway after a long run on London's West End, makes a wholly persuasive case for the 1978 musical in which Tim Rice and Baron Lloyd-Webber (as he is now officially styled) told how an Argentine actress-tart found happiness by bedding and wedding an up-and-coming caudillo.
Though Mr. Rice is only a fair-to-middling lyricist, he has contrived to turn the tale of Eva and Juan Perón (Elena Roger and Michael Cerveris) into a compelling chronicle of love and politics, and the music is for the most part worthy of the occasion. As always, Mr. Lloyd Webber's tunes turn sugary whenever emotions run high, but his feel for large-scale scenic construction is unfailingly impressive. Much of "Evita," which has almost no spoken dialogue, holds together as well as any of the extended musical sequences in "Sweeney Todd." Heresy, I know, and I wouldn't dream of suggesting that "Evita" is worthy of direct comparison to Stephen Sondheim's masterpiece. Still, the best parts are good enough to make the worst parts tolerable, and if you listen with an open ear, you may be pleasantly surprised by the quality of what you hear.
Mr. Grandage and Rob Ashford, the choreographer, have worked together so closely on "Evita" that you'd think the whole show had been staged by one prodigiously gifted man. Christopher Oram's monumental sets are satisfyingly old-fashioned, and Neil Austin has lighted them in a spectacular manner that put me in mind, appropriately enough, of "Triumph of the Will." Never are you in doubt that the subject of "Evita" is the horrors that ensue when power joins hands with glamour ("Instead of a government we had a stage / Instead of ideas, a prima donna's rage"). Needless to say, it would have taken a Sondheim—or a Kurt Weill—to do justice to so complex a theme, but "Evita" comes closer than you'd expect.
I wish I could report that Ms. Roger is up to the challenge of the title role. No dice: She's a good actor and a wonderful dancer, but her voice is small and shrill, and she hasn't an ounce of star quality. Fortunately, Mr. Cerveris has more than enough to go around. To be sure, the part of Juan Perón is ungratefully small, but he plays it as though it were huge, and his stage presence is so electric that he steals the show from Ms. Roger in "You Must Love Me" without saying a word or moving a muscle, which is quite a trick. Ricky Martin is both likable and effective as Che, the strolling narrator, and the chorus is top-notch (though Kristen Blodgette, the conductor, should have insisted on sharper diction—I kept longing for supertitles).
Never having seen Harold Prince's much-admired original production of "Evita," I'm not in a position to compare it to this one, and in a way I'm glad. Despite the inadequacies of its nominal star, Mr. Grandage's "Evita" is an impressive achievement that should be judged on its own merits, which are legion. Even if you don't like Andrew Lloyd Webber's music, it will hold your eye from curtain to curtain.
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newjerseynewsroom.com
`Evita' looks beautiful
by Michael Sommers
It’s great to see “Evita” looking so beautiful at the Marquis Theater where on Thursday, after a 29 year absence from Broadway, the Andrew Lloyd Webber-Tim Rice masterpiece returned in a thrilling revival.
Harold Prince’s original concept was dark and stark, but here director Michael Grandage provides a surprisingly romantic look at the astonishing rise and untimely demise of the legendary Eva Peron, a poor nobody from the sticks who became the powerful idol of Argentina in the 1940s and early ‘50s.
Grandly staged more as a bittersweet fairy tale than as a Brechtian epic, “Evita” conquers anew with its rich, ravishing score – it’s my favorite Lloyd Webber work – and its whirlwind account of an amazing life. Rob Ashford’s dynamic choreography, steeped in tango and flamenco modes, gives extra sweep and sizzle to the musical’s memorable songs and Cinderella story.
A petite dynamo from Buenos Aires making a brilliant Broadway debut, Elena Roger sympathetically portrays Eva as a driven soul who is not cynical about her machinations. This Eva never doubts that she is doing the right thing. “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina” is rendered with utter sincerity.
Depicting Eva with a huge smile and a deep sense of conviction and destiny, Roger sings the demanding role in a clear, strong voice that would be steely were it not for a lovely little vibrato that lends sheen to her vocals.
The sight of this tiny creature fearlessly contending with the tall military men and aristocrats massed against her is especially affecting. Roger’s Argentine accent – everybody else sounds American – nicely suggests Eva’s outsider status. (Christina DeCicco handles the role at certain matinee.)
Michael Cerveris invests considerable personal warmth into the figure of Juan Peron, who truly appears to be devoted to his wife. Their “I’d Be Surprisingly Good for You” duet offers a case of mutual seduction while Eva’s plaintive “You Must Love Me” (added from the film) is supported by Cerveris’ compassionate reactions. The actor’s heroic vocals and courtly demeanor lends great personal dignity to his character.
An animated Ricky Martin cheerfully interprets his narrator’s role as Che as a saucy Everyman figure rather than as a scruffy rebel-in-the-making. Musically commenting upon the happenings in an amused manner, Martin easily sports an insouciant attitude, a mustache and a roguish smile.
The second-rate tango singer who is induced to transport the young Eva to the big city is performed with florid gestures and a first-class voice by Max Von Essen. Demure in the brief role of Peron’s teenaged mistress, Rachel Potter sings “Another Suitcase in Another Hall” with touching purity. A lively 25-member ensemble whirls through the show as a colorful cross-section of the Argentine population.
Grandage’s smooth, picturesque staging and Ashford’s choreography keep the show in nearly ceaseless motion. Christopher Oram’s imposing scenery deploys monumental Beaux Arts architecture to cunning effect. Vintage black-and-white newsreels at times help to set moods. Smoky atmospherics and well-detailed background movement further enhance the musical’s already significant charms.
Designer Neil Austin often casts a richly golden light upon Eva as she ascends from the gutter theatrical to her short-lived glory as a Madonna of the masses. In designing the excellent period clothes, Oram dresses Roger in white or bright high-flying-adored modes that make her shine out against the crowd.
People who already love “Evita” may be surprised by such a glossy treatment of the work, but they are likely to surrender to her ever compelling-ways, especially when the performances are so splendid.
How do you solve a problem like Andrew Lloyd Webber? Two of the composer's widely loved and scorned works are in revival this Broadway season, and they offer very different suggestions.
The Jesus Christ Superstar currently rattling the walls of the Neil Simon Theatre revels in the humorless pomp with which Webber and lyricist Tim Rice approached its subject. Conversely, in a new, London-based production of Evita (* * * out of four), director Michael Grandage brings another larger-than-life character gently down to earth.
It helps, of course, that Grandage had better material. Webber and Rice found richer musical and dramatic inspiration in Eva Peron, the controversial first lady who mesmerized Argentina in the wake of World War II, than in the greatest story ever told. The worldly scandal, scheming and suffering associated with Peron's short life — she succumbed to cancer at 33, the same age at which Christ's time on earth is thought to have ended — was ripe for Webber's distinct brand of crass, creamy bombast.
Yet the triumph of this Evita, which opened Thursday at the Marquis Theatre, is its accessible, graceful humanity. As played by Argentine actress Elena Roger, reprising her West End performance from 2006, the title character is not the fiery spellbinder introduced on Broadway by Patti LuPone or the glamorous diva Madonna was in the film version. What's most striking about Roger's Eva is her fragility and her hunger.
We meet Eva as an underprivileged but ambitious 15-year-old, and Roger, at 37, relays her girlish openness as much as her drive. That vulnerability endures as Eva runs through a succession of socially connected lovers — as Grandage and choreographer Rob Ashford stage her trysts, Eva is a love toy as much as a seductress — and even after she and Juan Peron become a cynical power couple.
Though Rogers' voice isn't strong, her singing has a raw ache and folky authenticity. She also moves like a gazelle, reinforcing Eva's beguiling sensuality and adding further sparkle to Ashford's earthy, vibrant dance numbers.
The narrator, Che, isn't presented as the flamboyant revolutionary (based on Che Guevera) he became under Harold Prince's original direction. A charming Ricky Martin plays the character more as an amused, sometimes sympathetic spectator; though critical of Eva, as Rice's lyrics demand, he also conveys a certain tenderness.
Michael Cerveris' superb Juan is even more endearing. Though the robust-voiced actor makes a convincing dictatorial figure, what comes through most is Juan's genuine affection and concern for his little Eva.
Couples such as these may form "hoping their lover will help them or keep them," as Rice snarkily proposes; but they can still experience love, and pain. I doubt that any production of Evita has made this more poignantly clear.
‘Evita’ returns to Broadway with Ricky Martin adding extra shine
by Joe Dziemianowicz
**** (out of 5)
Ricky Martin gives a great big touch of star quality to the seductive revival of “Evita” at the Marquis. He also gives an appealing performance in the role of Che, which, like the show, has been re-imagined since the first Broadway run.
The sung-through celebration of the life of Eva Peron, the loved and loathed First Lady of Argentina, is less scruffy, less overtly angry.
Che isn’t the revolutionary Che Guevara beamed in from another era. That’s so 1979 — when Harold Prince’s original production vaulted Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin into the stratosphere.
Now he’s just Che, a working-class everyman lending color commentary in the songs “Oh, What a Circus” and “High Flying, Adored” and others.
Pop heartthrob Martin (a “Les Miserables” alum from 1996) delivers his numbers with gusto. While he’s at it, he hawkeyes Eva with a sly “Get her!” expression as she bedhops to the top.
First, she has her way with tango singer Migaldi (a fine Max von Essen) and eventually president Juan Peron (Michael Cerveris, focused and powerful).
She was determined — right up to her death in 1952 at age 33.
Argentinian actress Elena Roger, who starred in this production when it premiered in London in 2006, occupies the juicy title part. She’s tiny in stature and not a belter, and her vulnerability proves persuasive on “I’d Be Surprisingly Good for You.” But her voice can get thin and reedy — “Rainbow High” is a low.
Fortunately, Roger has such an expressive face and eyes that she rivets attention and gets under your skin.
At the same time, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s tuneful songs lodge in your head — the lovely “Another Suitcase in Another Hall,” say, or a haunting “You Must Love Me,” borrowed from the Madonna movie.
Even with all its beauty, the music adds up to a rather sketchy portrait. The iconic “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina ” comes without context. Why’s she apologizing? Why’s the crowd weeping?
Director Michael Grandage and his designers cleverly fill in gaps and add texture. The set evokes a Buenos Aires in faded gray (even the pink Casa Rosada). A haze looms in shards of light. It all hints at the sinister side of Peron glamour. Such smart detail is a hallmark of Grandage’s all-muscle and ever-fluid vision.
Contributions by choreographer Rob Ashford (now also a busy director) can’t be overstated. Sexy tangos, erotic waltzes and meticulously built ensemble dances create sublime moments.
Best of all is “Buenos Aires,” which evokes small-town Eva’s introduction to the big city. “Stand back,” she declares as she glides, her feet and dress flying.
Stand back? As if. One can’t help but lean in, desperate for more. That’s what seduction is all about.
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New York Magazine:
Throwing up my hands at `Evita'
by Scott Brown
Descamisados, ****up your ears! Your Evita is up in arms again. Back from the dead for the first time since 1979 (her first and last appearance on Broadway, till now), the Andrew Lloyd Webber–Tim Rice version of Argentine First Lady and demi-saint Eva Perón (Elena Roger) is once again defying the phallocratic, foot-stomping Argentine military! She’s fighting the narrow-minded middle classes! She’s fighting the uncooperative upper classes! She’s fighting her uncooperative upper-register! Santa Evita’s hunger is palpable, her ambition unlimited, her singing... well, reasonable people can disagree. (Wasn’t that the slogan of the Perón campaign in ’46? Oh, wait: It totally wasn’t.) But reasonably or unreasonably, critics and actual humans alike will disagree on this production. Cloaked in fathomless imperial shadow by director Michael Grandage, choreographed stirringly and busily by Rob Ashford, and featuring both the affably translucent presence of pop-star Ricky Martin (as Che, our Cherrator) and the one-of-a-kind voice of Roger (a de gustibus proposition if ever there was one) this latest iteration of Evita seems guaranteed to produce more discord than harmony—not unlike the woman herself.
Personally, I am among the unmoved, if not the unimpressed. Grandage’s imposing new vision uses the Marquis’s vast, cavernous tastelessness to suitably overblown effect. He opens in an almost Eisensteinian tableau, faceless mourners silhouetted as a huge movie screen, showing newsreel footage of Eva’s state funeral, comes crushing down from above. The imagery and the powerfully dissonant Lloyd Webber McRequiem that accompanies it combine terrifically. Then Martin pops out of the crowd, and problems begin. It’s not that his Che is awful: His singing is strong enough, clear enough, bright enough. It’s not enough. Martin, a star playing an everyman, simply isn’t distinctive—his everyman is just too “every.” As the show blows through the life of Eva Duarte, a small-town girl with big-city ambitions and sexual pragmatism to match (a necessary pairing in the macho world of postwar Argentina), Che is our guide and gadfly. Originally, he took a Marxist tack. (Mandy Patinkin played him in beret and beard, which would, of course, look ridiculous today, and by some accounts looked ridiculous back then.) Now he’s more of a fly on the wall, which is a better move. But where’s the attitude, the anger, the anything? He’s little more than an avid grin and an Errol Flynn pose—the rest fades instantly into the scenery. There’s no consistent sentiment of any detectable level in Martin, no visceral critique of the lady in question, beyond the mountains of Ricean infobabble he’s called upon to sing. No one writes a character lyric from the outside in like Rice: His characters speak-sing as if their self-knowledge is derived entirely from graduate theses written decades after their deaths. And what they speak-sing! “There is evil, ever around / Fundamental system of government / Quite incidental...” Lyrics or Chuck Grassley Tweets? Place your bets.
But chances are, you’re not here for lyrics. Or Che. Or even Michael Cerveris’s lacquered Juan Perón, who bears a shocking resemblance to a young Silvio Berlusconi. You’re here for the goalpost arms, the bedraped balcony, the brass pipes on the bottle blonde. Well, here she is, all 60 inches of her. London went mad for Roger, an Argentine native of winningly diminutive size. Her elfin apoplexies and unique vocal interpretation were met with English bouquets. But personally, I found her performance almost too good a fit with Rice’s jagged, herky-jerky lyrics: She is memorable in part because she is irritating. Her top notes can approximate a subway-gate alarm, and her quick-runs in tricky passages (“Good Night and Thank You”) throw all normal concepts of pitch to the wayside: It’s as if her voice breaks a heel and just keeps hobbling at high-speed. There’s pathos and genuineness in this approach, to be sure, but the whole thing felt a tad shambolic to me. One spot where it works (un)beautifully: her tense, piercing “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” which she delivers with a hypodermic. Finally, a version of this song that doesn’t allow you to relax and luxuriate in its melodic velour! Roger, whatever else she’s doing up there, keeps us on our toes.
But as for our hearts—well, mine remained un-won. Roger doesn’t do a lot of reaching out. There’s a need and an eagerness to her Eva, but no seduction, no “star quality.” She reaches inward for strength, not out to the crowd. All of the leads, in fact, remain marooned in bright pools of focused self-regard. The added ballad “You Must Love Me,” imported from the Madonna movie of 1996, unfolds very sweetly, but beyond that lovely moment, the surprisingly uncynical love that’s supposed to bloom between the political animals Juan and Eva remains rather cool to the touch. (Nothing puts a hot scene on ice like wads of lyrics about trade unions.) As for Evita and Che, well, I’m not sure what’s being debated: One is a solipsist, the other a cipher, and neither seems capable of looking the other in the eye, no matter how snugly Ashford interlocks them. Part of the blame goes to the show itself, so stuffed with luscious pop motifs, so strangely devoid of emotion. I found my mind wandering off to Paraguay and points beyond. Why, Santa Evita, why? “Tell me before I seek worthier pastures,” as Rice might put it, “And thereby restore self-esteem.” Whatever the hell that means.
I haven't yet seen the production on Broadway (I did see it at the Adelphi 5 times though), and I find it very interesting how different the reviews in New York are from the all-out raves in London. The common complaint seems to be that people either dislike Elena Roger's voice or don't find her aggressive enough. To me it seems like they were expecting/wanting a LuPone-like Eva; I also reckon London audiences privilege fine acting over vocals, and that Broadway audiences expect a powerful voice to be absolute priority...my theory anyway.
The revival in London was lost when ALW focused all of RUGs money and efforts on The Sound of Music (which suddenly got the go ahead Early 2006 and pushed left the already announced Evita already in the back of Webbers mind)
Sadly as much as this revival , in London anyway, was heavily pinned as being authentic to Argentina and latino, Elena Roger struggles with the show and I am shocked the new Broadway producers did bring her in to lead it when Broadway, in particular, will want to see a divas turn and a belter in the role.
For me the designs and direction were wrong too... Not enough urgency, sex or panic. A New Argentina had about 12 people on stage waving hankys! Also the choreography baffled me, men dancing tango with men as soldiers... Doesn't make sense!
A show worth reviving but a missed chance which sadly means we will have to wait 15 years to see it London again probably.
I had the chance to see the first preview of "Evita" on March 12, 2012. I had high expectations. Visually, it was marvelous. The costume were wonderful. The dancing...magnificent. Ricky Martin was o.k. singing-wise. Obviously, many in the audience were his fans. Michael Cerveris did a great job as Juan Peron. I was very impressed with Max von Essen (Magaldi). His singing and dancing abilities were top-notch. Elena Roger is a good singer. Yet, I would have preferred a person with a stronger voice. I didn't expect a carbon copy of Elaine Paige or Patti LuPone. It's just that Elena's voice was not as authoritative as I thought it could have been. Interestingly enough, I thought that Elena's vocal style showed quite a resemblance to Edith Piaf (whose music I adore). It seems that the critics are giving Elena mixed notices. There is even doubt about whethere Miss Roger will get a Tony nomination. We shall see. from RC in Austin, Texas USA
The madness outside the Marquis Theatre stage door, on the night of the first preview. Here you have Max von Essen (Magaldi) signing for the fans. I left after a while, because none of the three major stars were coming out...and I didn't want to get crushed by the massive crowds behind me.
Definitely agree about RUG focusing on all the attention on Sound of Music and completely ignoring Evita, which made no sense considering the former already had enough publicity as it was! Elena has since gone onto bigger and better things, especially in Passion, and as for Connie Fisher...well, enough said. There was barely any advertising for Evita and towards the end of the run, when I spoke to fellow audience members, a lot of them told me they had no idea the show was even on until the final discounts appeared! It needed the extra push as well, considering 2006 was the so-called "year of the musical", with heavy competition.
RUG is such a p!ss poor production company. It seems to me all André Ptaszynski ever did was just blindly say "yes" to Lord ALW's every wish.
As a fan of Elena, I thought she was wonderful and deserved her raves, but you do seem to be right in saying that Broadway audiences appear to expect a belter in the role. Over there her reviews have been mixed to say the least.
I had the chance to see the first preview of "Evita" on March 12, 2012. I had high expectations. Visually, it was marvelous. The costume were wonderful. The dancing...magnificent. Ricky Martin was o.k. singing-wise. Obviously, many in the audience were his fans. Michael Cerveris did a great job as Juan Peron. I was very impressed with Max von Essen (Magaldi). His singing and dancing abilities were top-notch. Elena Roger is a good singer. Yet, I would have preferred a person with a stronger voice. I didn't expect a carbon copy of Elaine Paige or Patti LuPone. It's just that Elena's voice was not as authoritative as I thought it could have been. Interestingly enough, I thought that Elena's vocal style showed quite a resemblance to Edith Piaf (whose music I adore). It seems that the critics are giving Elena mixed notices. There is even doubt about whethere Miss Roger will get a Tony nomination. We shall see. from RC in Austin, Texas USA
The madness outside the Marquis Theatre stage door, on the night of the first preview. Here you have Max von Essen (Magaldi) signing for the fans. I left after a while, because none of the three major stars were coming out...and I didn't want to get crushed by the massive crowds behind me. 
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Posted: 4/5/12 at 08:48pm