Evita

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

The lost and found box at Country Dinner Playhouse had better be doubled in size for its current production of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s Evita.

Thaddeus Valdez as Juan Peron and Joanie Brosseau-Beyette as Eva Peron in Country Dinner Playhouse’s production of Evita.

Several years ago Joanie Brosseau-Beyette knocked the socks off of everyone who saw her play Eva Peron at Boulder’s Dinner Theatre, and she’s doing it again at Country Dinner Playhouse. Talk about owning a role.

Brilliant move for Producer Paul Dwyer to turn to Boulder rather than New York for the perfect Eva, and brilliant move on Michael Duran’s part to release her from Ragtime’s Whee Girl on the Swing. Brosseau-Beyette without question was adorable as Evelyn Nesbitt; a knock out in her own right. Versatility is the word for this veteran actor who wraps herself in and around and through the soul of Eva Peron as presented by Webber and Rice. Powerful, engaging, delectable, awesome, leaving the heart stuck in the throat.

Some people die on stage and they deserve it. Some people die on stage and it’s hilarious. Some people die on stage because of a murder. Some people die on stage and the heart jumps. When Eva’s death is announced to the people of Argentina on July 26, 1952 the hopes and dreams of millions of “the shirtless” people are smashed to smithereens.

From an obscure life in a small Argentina village, as Eva Duarte scratching her way in sharp calculation, doing whatever she needed to do however she needed to do it, became the second wife of Argentina’s dictator Juan Peron. Calculating, self-serving, glory-hungry, Eva knew how to speak to the descamisados, “The shirtless ones,” providing them hope, dreams, something very tangible to believe in. The story provides a perfect example of the needs of a people matching the needs of one woman.

No woman had ever contained the charisma, power, and strength to do that for anyone in South America before her rise to power or since. The awesome lyrical power of Webber’s music, and Rice’s incredible distinctive lyrics captures in a couple of hours of what transpired in a short period of time in Argentina history. Argentina reacted strongly to Webber and Rice’s facts in the musical, but poetic license moves far beyond fact to capture truth. If Webber and Rice could only do the same for additional significant historical moments, students would clamor to study history instead of clutching and hating the thought of a history class. My first experience with Evita sent me searching to know more about this self-made goddess of Argentina, which is the ultimate power of theatre.

Directed and choreographed by Joel Ferrell, Country Dinner Playhouse becomes, albeit for a brief moment, Argentina. He proves how theatre in the round can become a major asset to the over all tone of a production with the use of ingenious space and a large cast. Set changes become a part of the action instead of a parenthetical stopgap between scenes. Actors don’t need to run off stage or hide behind pillars to make simple costume changes. It all becomes part of the story, feeding the drama with emotional impact.

Every single member of the large cast becomes a vital part for each section of the story whether they are townspeople, country bumpkins, or high society, No one, not one, gets lost in the shuffle. When sitting next to actors sitting on a stair or perched on a railing only inches away from the audience you feel the intensity, the humor, the pounding of the hot Latin music, the desperation, determination, the joy, the heart beat of a people surging from the expertise of the cast.

In the opening scene, you don’t see chairs strategically placed around the stage, you see people in pubs, couples at home, friends hanging together sharing their emotional reaction when Che, narrator, turns on the radio for the announcement over the static of Eva Peron’s untimely death to cancer. In their grief they huddle together as the company sings the Requiem for Evita. She was there in their midst all along disguised as one of the common people. When they part, there she is laid out on a table in a beautiful white gown with a red rose lying against her bosom: the body lying in state of Evita. The resemblance of Brosseau-Beyette to the photos of Eva Peron is mind-boggling.

Chris Crouch magnificently, there is simply no other word for it, takes on the character of Che with delight, with a vengeance, with an edge. Che sees the truth behind this manipulating young woman who will scrape and scratch her way to the top in the process giving to the people what no one could anticipate, not even her. Che tells the story as he sees it, frequently getting himself in trouble with the authorities, but that doesn’t stop him from painting a verbal detailed picture. He calls the shots. He argues with her, He cuts her down to size. He even makes her think. He understands when to show sympathy, and when to tower over her, when to be snide, if only for a second, and when to fit the pieces back together. Crouch’s constant changes of expression, and pain that always comes with honesty and dignified delight when he knows he is right provides a depth to the character and story I’m not sure even Webber and Rice comprehended when they penned their first notes and wrote the first lyrics.

Markus Warren captures Agustine Magaldi, the hot Latin singer and lover with hot Latin blood and seductive voice. When he sings On This Night Of A Thousand Stars, you not only see the swooning of every young girl around, you feel it. He knows how to stir the blood, but even he doesn’t have a fighting chance against the seductive determination of a young hot-blooded Evita. He serves her well until she comes face to face with a young Juan Peron with political stars in his eyes to become President of Argentina.

Thaddeus Valdez wears the armor the determination of a hopeful would be candidate. Coupled with his gigantic theatrical expertise and huge golden powerful voice, Valdez wears Peron with strength, compassion and pride.

Staging a political rumble with the Generals for the top seat through musical chairs is a very humorous concept. With sharp military calculating moves in the song The Art of the Possible tickles the brain over current candidates also playing musical chairs. Then again, maybe that’s what they are doing. The concept brilliant, the execution in the production triples the brilliance to an incredible depth and wonderment.

The beautiful young actor Melissa Benoist takes great care in providing Peron’s current Mistress personality, her own depth, when Evita walks in and takes everything from her with her song Another Suitcase In Another Hall. Benoist provides a glimpse into the life of a struggling young girl who one minute had everything and now with a whisk of a broom has nothing.

The Tango between Stephen Bertles and Kitty Skillman Hilsabeck takes the breath away even as Eva and Juan sing I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You. There is a quality to that song that moves far beyond a simple statement captured in the eyes, the voices, and the dance.

Mitch Samu’s music rocks the house along with Tag Worley and Neil Haverstick. Nicole M. Harrison’s choice of costumes with colors and style could undoubtedly be inserted into a 1940s Buenos Aires photograph.

Musical theatre just doesn’t get any better than this: to lay a piece of history before an audience, to have the blood pump with Latin American fever, provoke the brain to think and ponder, to solicit emotion for a woman who died 55 years ago, to make curiosity scratch at wanting to know more, to thrill over the powerful music from Don’t Cry for me Argentina, to A new Argentina, to Rainbow Tour, to the haunting The Actress Hasn’t learned The Lines You’d Like To hear as Evita and Che go head to head.

Don’t ask questions. Just go. Go now because you will want very much to go again to absorb the power of this production of Evita.