THE GYM TOOK OVER ARGENTINA
AND NOBODY LOOKED BACK

Jamie Lloyd’s Evita comes at you like a SoulCycle class that got a state grant for performance art. It’s sweaty, shiny, and occasionally shouts at you in political slogans. The whole thing feels like someone dared the production team to stage a military coup with nothing but a fog machine, three trampolines, and access to the gym locker room at Equinox.

Rachel Zegler and the Cast

Rachel Zegler as Evita is dressed by costumer Soutra Gilmour like a Peloton instructor for the first half. Sports bra and spandex shorts. Then she glams it up for act two with the same silhouette, now silver and spangled, as if Eva Perón joined an EDM-themed circus in Ibiza. At no point does she seem particularly interested in running a country. She does, however, look like she could run a 10k with a motivational playlist and a shot of collagen.

Sally Frith, Diego Andres Rodriguez (Che), Rachel Zegler (Evita),
Aaron Lee Lambert (Agustín Magaldi), Mireia Mambo, and the Cast

Gilmour’s set is basically a cement staircase and a few lights. That’s it. No grand balcony. No opulent Argentine architecture. The most elaborate element might be the confetti cannon, which goes off at odd intervals like someone backstage is playing Whac-A-Mole with the cue button. The mood is “found footage” meets “bad trip in the West End.”

Diego Andres Rodriguez (Che), Rachel Zegler (Evita), James Olivas (Juan Perón)

And then there’s Che who is played by Diego Andres Rodriguez, who must have been hand-picked by director Lloyd from the West Hollywood Equinox. At first, you think he’s the voice of the people. Then, halfway through, he’s in his underwear, slicked in paint, writhing like he’s in the final round of a Berlin sex marathon. In the theater lights he looks like he’s just emerged from an oil bath, ready for a Freak Off at Diddy’s. All the right angles. All the wrong context. He spends so much time crawling up stairs and glaring at the audience that you begin to wonder if the real message of Evita is about calf strength.

Carl Au, Diego Andres Rodriguez, Damian Buhagiar, DeAngelo Jones

The music is technically the same. The cast belts with wild-eyed intensity, often at full volume, often with very little to do with the lyrics. “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina”—sung from a balcony outside the London Palladium to the street crowd below—comes not with tears, but a full-body exorcism. Eva flings herself toward the crowd with the desperation of someone trying to sell one last detox smoothie before being carted off by the IRS.

Rachel Zegler and James Olivas

The whole thing feels like a glam-rock uprising. At moments, it’s impossible to tell if you’re supposed to feel moved or just keep clapping to stay safe. Some people in the audience were sobbing. Others gawked with the thousand-yard stare of people who’d just witnessed performance art that involved topless political reenactments and cardio.

Natasha Leaver, Diante Lodge

Is it good? That’s not really the point. Is it memorable? Like a fever dream in a warehouse rave, yes. Somewhere, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice might be having heart palpitations. Somewhere else, Eva Perón is checking her closet and wondering why the leotards are gone.

Rachel Zegler and the Cast

No one leaves unchanged. Or dry. Or entirely sure what this musical is about anymore.

Highly recommended, but not for the usual reasons.

Rachel Zegler and Diego Andres Rodriguez

photos by Marc Brenner

Evita
London Palladium, 8 Argyll St
ends on 6 September, 2025
for tickets, visit Evita The Musical