I’ve got the worst singing voice in the entire known universe, but practically the first thing I did in Buenos Aires was sing (quietly) “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” outside the Casa Rosada. It had to be done! It’s such an iconic song, from such an iconic musical – which, according to Suzy Klein on BBC 2, is Donald Trump’s favourite musical and was so admired by Maggie Thatcher that it led her to say she said she hoped someone’d write a musical about her. Let’s not go there! South American history isn’t widely taught in schools in English-speaking countries, but we’ve all heard of Eva Peron. And we all know that song.
Our group went to a gloriously touristy Argentinian evening, involving large steaks and people (not us) dancing the tango. It also involved someone singing “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina”, which really surprised me. OK, it was a tourist thing, but I wouldn’t have expected Argentinians to be into Evita. Quite apart from the fact that it’s a British musical and Anglo-Argentinian relations aren’t exactly warm, it doesn’t portray Eva Peron very favourably. The expression “scheming tart” was how one of the people interviewed on this programme summed it up.
And she really is still hero-worshipped by a lot of people in Argentina. Our local guide, clearly a very intelligent woman with intensive knowledge of Argentinian history, couldn’t praise her highly enough. Many political leaders are greatly revered, but that’s usually because they led a country to greatness, or to independence, or saw it safely through a time of great peril. Eva Peron didn’t do anything of those things. She wasn’t even a political leader: she was just married to one. She was, as we’re reminded at the very start of Evita, known as “the Spiritual Leader of the Nation”. There aren’t too many other people seen in those terms. Gandhi’s the only one who immediately springs to mind – and he certainly didn’t wear expensive clothes and go on glamorous Rainbow Tours. To this day, many Argentinian households have pictures of Eva Peron on their walls. Often next to depictions of the Virgin Mary.
The only other person who seems to be so adored in Argentina is Diego Maradona, and the least said about him, the better. And I see that the final of the Copa Libertadores, between Boca Juniors and River Plate, has had to be postponed because of hooliganism. That’s actually quite relevant to Evita, because Boca Juniors have always been seen as the team of the poor/descamisados and River Plate as the team of the rich.
I’m not sure what story this programme was actually trying to tell. Was it the story of Eva Peron, the story of Evita the musical or the story of 1970s/1980s culture? It seemed to be a bit of all three. Maybe the same theme runs through all three – the cult of hype and image and celebrity. But that’s one thing with a film or a musical or a pop group, and quite another with someone who has huge political and financial clout.
Tim Rice informed us that he first became interested in Eva Peron when he got some Argentinian stamps for his boyhood stamp collection, and wondered why they bore the picture of a woman who wasn’t a queen! And that, years later, he heard something about her on the radio, and decided to write a musical about her. It’s certainly a great story – rags to riches, a tragically early death, hero worship, etc – but it’s still a strange choice. The Perons wouldn’t have been well-known in Britain at the time. And, even before the Falklands War, making a musical about Argentinian politics was hugely controversial. Some people accused him of glorifying fascism. And Eva Peron is a very controversial and divisive figure. The musical couldn’t make that any clearer.
This was all very interesting, but the programme then veered off the subject of Eva Peron and on to the subject of how the musical was tied in with both the idea of powerful female leaders and the media obsession with celebrity. I’m not sure that either Eva Peron or Margaret Thatcher, whilst they had ambition and ruthlessness in common, would take very kindly to being compared to each other. There are probably more comparisons to be drawn between Eva Peron and Diana, Princess of Wales, in terms of the “people’s princess” rubbish, but the programme didn’t so much draw comparisons between the two as say that the media were obsessed with the musical and its stars and that that obsession then moved on to Diana. Er, it’s a great musical, but how on earth can you claim that Elaine Paige & co got the same level of media attention as Diana did?!
All the talk about the hype was actually quite sad. OK, obviously you’ve got to have publicity, to get bums on seats and make money, but it all seemed so cynical. Much as it annoys me when anything isn’t historically accurate, I love the interplay between Eva Peron and Che Guevara in Evita. It’s so well done. That bit where they dance together, and he goes on about how she’s conning everyone and she goes on about she can’t really do anything else within the Argentinian system, is just incredible. It says so much about Argentina, and South American politics in general. So I was rather upset to hear that the reason for including Che wasn’t to make some great political point but a) to appeal to the public by bringing in a household name and b) to provide a glamorous and romantic male lead role in which an attention-grabbing good-looking bloke could be cast. OK, Antonio Banderas would be reason enough to watch the film version, even without the music and the history, but … well, it all sounds so cynical! Boo!!
As I said, it wasn’t quite clear exactly what story or whose story the programme was trying to tell, and it this point it went back to Argentina and discussed the “Evita Movement”, set up in 2004 as a sort of social protest movement, and also commented that Eva Peron now has admirers from all social classes. I like that. Whatever you think of Eva Peron, you’ve got to love the line “But our privileged class is dead. Look who they are calling for now”. I think that’s only in the film, not the stage version, isn’t it? Great line. And the line about “No we wouldn’t mind seeing her in Harrods, but behind the jewellery counter not in front” is a reminder that, long before the invasion of the Falklands, the privileged class was very Anglophile and there was huge British influence in Argentina. There still is. Harrods might have closed down, but there are still red postboxes in Argentina, and the uber-iconic Café Tortoni in Buenos Aires serves extremely nice scones. Take that, Peron!
Lovely, lovely city, by the way. Beautiful buildings. Great food. Everyone talks about football all the time.
They then flipped from Eva Peron to Madonna. It does say a lot that Madonna was so absolutely desperate to play the lead role in the 1996 film version of Evita. Like Bridget Jones J , I pretty much know all the words to The Immaculate Collection. A lot of people who grew up in the ’80s will do! You want celebrity, hype, image, and someone who really made the most of what they had? Madonna. I can’t imagine ever being friends with her, if I knew her personally, but what a woman! Really, it was quite a risk for her to become involved in something that was very controversial at the time, because filming took place in Argentina at a time when, in addition to anger over the way Eva Peron was portrayed by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber, both Britain and America were very unpopular there. The programme showed us some of the “Fuero Madonna” and “Fuero Ingles” graffiti that appeared in Buenos Aires at the time. It wasn’t mentioned in the programme, but the Argentinian government actually produced its own film about Eva Peron, as a direct response to all the controversy.
I can’t believe that the film’s 22 years old! I’ve seen it more often than I’ve seen the stage version (which is now 40 years old!), because cheap and easy to watch a DVD in your own front room, so I know it better than I know the stage version. I’d never thought that much about the reasons for the differences between the two, but, as this programme pointed out, the portrayal of Eva Peron in the film is much softer and much more appealing than in the stage version. “You Must Love Me” was a new song for the film, and the portrayal of terminally-ill Eva practically being propped up on the balcony of the Casa Rosada really tugs at the heartstrings. Was it a sop to Argentinian sensitivies? Well, the programme didn’t really go into that. It just said that it was inaccurate, because the real Eva Peron was making feisty, rousing speeches right until just before the end.
It didn’t really answer any questions. It didn’t go into the real history of Eva Peron’s life and Juan Peron’s rule of Argentina, which is now all so confused, between the myths of Eva and the myths of the Evita musical, that it’s very hard to know what to think. Even putting the myths aside and trying to rely on actual sources, historians can’t agree on exactly what was going on. What was going on with the money from the Eva Peron Foundation? Was Peron a fascist? No-one seems to be sure. But not too many people in the West talk like this, or even in Argentina, talks this much about General Galtieri, or about any of the umpteen other very questionable people who ruled Argentina or other South American countries during the 20th century.
Musicals and history are an incredible combination, when you think about it. Look at some of the subjects covered by the most popular musicals of all time. The June Rebellion of 1832. The Anschluss. Pogroms. The rise of the Nazis in 1930s Berlin. Criminal gangs in Victorian London. Gangland conflict in New York. The Vietnam War. The Second World War in the South Pacific, also covering racism. The miners’ strike. Pretty weighty subjects. I assume that the word “superstar” in the title of this programme was meant to refer to Eva Peron, not Evita the musical, but the image of Eva Peron outside Argentina, certainly in the Angophone world, has largely been determined by Evita. That says a lot about the power of musicals. It’s quite frightening, actually! Imagine if someone did make a musical about Margaret Thatcher, or Donald Trump, or any of the other controversial figures of our times. Maybe not …