The Kansas City Repertory Theatre mourns a flawed Evita

As I watched the Kansas City Repertory Theatre’s production of Evita, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s musical biography of Eva Perón, I couldn’t help but think of a line from the show’s second act. “As a mere observer of this tasteless phenomenon,” our de facto emcee says of the Peróns, “one has to admire the stage management.”

Indeed, there’s much to admire about production stage manager Calyn P. Swain, whose timing (in a sea of blistering light and sound cues) is impeccable. But by the end of the night, I found myself wishing she had a better show to call.

Evita is one of Webber’s more difficult musicals, requiring performers with range and stopwatch precision. The composer’s signature hooks share space with arrhythmic recitatives and dissonant orchestral accompaniment that seems to strive for the tight musical latticework of Sondheim but more often sounds labored and muddy. (The Rep’s pared-down pit, helmed by conductor Anthony T. Edwards, is faultless).

The performers, here a mix of local players and New York imports, do their best to sell the score. On opening night, the actors blasted through Act I at warp speed, culminating effectively in the hard-driving “A New Argentina.”

Mariand Torres is exceptional in the title role. (Jennifer Ashman assumes the role after September 20.) Torres’ voice is richly tinted, layered enough to temper even the more bombastic passages with nuance. And she’s a skilled actress, transitioning before our eyes from a streetwise chorus girl to the glamorous “Santa Evita.”

Mauricio Martínez is every bit her match as Che, the acid-tongued dissident who punctures the Peróns’ image at every turn. “The Money Kept Rolling In” is the showstopper it needs to be thanks to Martínez’s manic energy, fluid dancing and hair-raising vocals.

Local actors Tim Scott (as Magaldi) and Emily Shackelford (as Juan Perón’s mistress) make strong contributions. Shackelford’s “Another Suitcase in Another Hall” is an Act I highlight, sung with bittersweet restraint.

Evita whirls kaleidoscopically through settings and decades as it tracks the rise and fall of Argentina’s controversial first family. That mosaic approach requires a firm hand at the wheel, but the Rep’s staging, under the direction of Eric Rosen, is at times muddled.

The lighting design, by Jeffrey Cady, places us firmly in a dark Buenos Aires nightclub and rarely lets us leave. Actors are often lit only from the shoulders up, an effect that starts to make them look like hand puppets. Vibrant color washes — Slytherin greens and vivid magentas — occasionally punctuate the dark, but arrive at perplexing times and to unclear effect.

Scenic designer Jack Magaw keeps the setting neutral with a handsome, multi-arched and doored façade that’s visually striking but too flat to be dynamically used. A sliding section allows for some unexpected movement during the show’s signature number, “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.” We’ve heard the song a thousand times but can’t help but feel moved anew: There’s vulnerability in Torres’ rendition, yes, but also the measured composure of a woman who knows she can only let the veil slip so far. Regrettably, the lights are again too tightly focused, transforming the luminous Torres into a floating head. On opening night, the slightest of head tosses left her singing in the shadows.

Jason H. Thompson’s projections add texture and depth to the set, and Lindsay W. Davis’ costumes deftly separate the Peróns from the underdressed underclass they purport to serve. Eva’s dresses are especially gorgeous, from a glittering white-swan ball gown to a floral halter that accents her every curve.

Evita has a few standout numbers, but ultimately, the musical suffers from a book that positions itself as a complex, agnostic view of the Peróns but can barely conceal disdain for its characters or the descamisados who cheered them on. At their worst, the lyrics comes off as downright smug, reveling in the short-sightedness of the social justice movement and the hypocrisy of its leaders.

The folksy sexism doesn’t help: More stage time — and songs — are spent painting Eva as a shallow slut than engaging with her fraught political career. Then again, perhaps it’s fitting that a woman who founded a Feminist Party wing and campaigned fervently for Argentinian women’s suffrage be immortalized on stage for her T&A.

A lot has changed politically since Eva Perón’s death, but one theme feels current: We still love to see a powerful woman laid low.

Evita
Through October 2 at the Kansas City Repertory Theatre, Spencer Theatre
4949 Cherry
816-235-2700
kcrep.org