Evita, superstar

I am a touch ashamed to admit I have fallen head over heels for Evita again, with Michael Grandage's dynamic production offering a charismatic titlerole performance, ripe for superlatives, by unknown Argentinian Elena Roger.

When Evita premiered 25 years ago I was caught in its emotional fall-out and overwhelmed against my better, politically motivated judgment.

After all, Evita celebrates celebrity in the shape of a good-time girl married to President Juan Perón, who was eventually the workers' ally, but began in the government of a pro-Hitler military dictatorship.

The musical is duly pulled in two directions. Lloyd Webber's music swoons in heartfelt fashion all over Evita as if she were Puccini's Mimi. Meanwhile Tim Rice's often sarcastic lyrics, through the narrative voice of Che, more than half mock what is termed Eva's circus show to woo a gullible public.

Grandage's production may not provide that much of a political edge, yet in the exultant excitement of A New Argentina, which concludes the first act in climactic ecstasy, you see just how the masses can be whipped into wild fervour by clever politicians.

"Why try to govern a country when you can become a saint," Matt Rawle's fine, handsome Che sings with characteristic jovial cynicism. It is Che's sardonic, put-down songs, Oh What a Circus or Good night And Thank You, when president Perón's old lover is given the push by Eva, and High Flying Adored that give the musical its tension, sophistication and sense of satirical mockery. The show never succumbs to simple political celebrity worship.

Noel Coward famously said he was amazed how potent cheap music was and although the tickets must now rate as pretty expensive, you can see what he meant. Don't Cry For Me Argentina, Eva's farewell song, whose musical theme echoes throughout, comes at you with such waves of emotion that you lose all thought of how the poor, bright girl artfully screwed her way through the government, into Perón's bedroom and his heart, ejecting a 16-year-old mistress in the process.

When Miss Roger's blanched Eva comes out onto the long balcony of the Casa Rosada, which looks sumptuously grand in Christopher Oram's realistic design, Rice's lyrics and Lloyd Webber's music work beautifully together.

Miss Roger, whose voice in the first act occasionally seems overwhelmed by the orchestra, rises up strong, fervent and passionate. Eva's song for the spellbound people, a stoic summing-up of her life, may start as a political act, but then genuine feeling takes over.

Eva, darling of the working classes for her poor people's foundation, has discovered a life purpose.