Evita? She’s the original Alex Salmond (with a bit more bling)
ANATION grieves the loss of its ‘spiritual leader’ who ousted English business i nterests and identified with the poor — albeit on a f alse prospectus which led to economic ruin. Romanticism r ules t he day. Working-class voters are whipped into a frenzy by nationalism.
It was hard not to think of Scotland while watching the return of Evita to the West End this week — and a good production it is, too.
Extravagant sets, a swelling score pumped out by a good band, much clutching of chests and tragic gasping, songs blasted out at top volume: this show does not want for projection and effort.
At the start of the second half there is that magnificent entrance when Madalena Alberto’s Eva Peron steps on to a high walkway to approach the balcony from which she will address the masses.
OK, it was Eva with her sparkling jewels and her blonde hair scraped back and her white dress ablaze with drama. But could it not almost, in a different world, have been fishy old Alex Salmond?
This too-brief revival — it is set to run only until the start of November, which seems a ridiculously short spin of the wheel — reminds us of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s fine melodies: Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina, Another Suitcase in Another Hall, On This Night Of A Thousand Stars, and more.
It also has an unexpected topicality, for does the example of Juan Peron in Argentina in the Forties and Fifties not show us the limits of nationalism? Military officer Peron, lent glamour and mass-market protection by his singer wife, began his rule as a plausible liberator. He appealed to narrow, simplistic patriotism, sprinkling favours he could not afford on a people who would later pay the economic price.
He and his wife resented Press critics. Just like Salmond! They plotted against the middle classes. They created division. Remind you of anyone? Portuguese Miss Alberto is superb as Eva, the voice beautifully clear.
She begins the tale as a darkhaired, exuberant jiver, lifting her skirt off her knees as she joins a fast dance.
As Eva rises in society we see s hafts of ambition — a Darwinian nonchalance as she sends Peron’s mistress packing, a calculating opportunism as she feeds off the crowd.
MATTHEW Cammelle is good as Peron, handsome and clean-cut, flourishing as much as this role permits. Ben Forster does splendidly as nightclub singer Magaldi — one section of the first-night stalls whooped like crazy every time he sang.
Sarah McNicholas makes the most of her solo as the mistress. The dance sequences, choreographed by Bill Deamer, are crisp and energetic.
Marti Pellow plays t he onlooker Che, beret- clad everyman. He has a quavery voice and I kept worrying that he was a smidgen off the rhythm.
No matter. Senora Peron, with her fox stole and eyebrowed allure and ailing hunger to be adored, elected, sanctified, retains her special hold. Bueno!