Rollerskating naked to a DJ set of Lloyd Webber classics is a bold opening to any show. Yet that’s exactly how Rebecca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole introduce theirs, before diving into the story of the first ever female president in the world, the largely forgotten Isabel Perón. This production questions why Evita should be so famous simply because of a male-written mega-musical, whilst Isabel remains largely in the darkness. What does a woman have to do to create a legacy?
It’s a pretty genius concept, delivered with unbelievable charisma from the writer-actor duo. Their deadpan delivery of pun after pun immediately creates audience rapport, whilst Ursula Martinez’ direction ensures Isabel’s story is told in the most engaging way imaginable. There’s puppetry, music, dance, projection, this is a history lesson on steroids. Admittedly the musical numbers are ultimately forgettable and generic, yet are sung with such enthusiasm that it’s almost forgivable. Watching an audience member crush ice as a percussion instrument is likewise entertaining.
Occasionally, this bonkers energy leads to a tad too much incoherent sidetracking. Large sections spent on Elaine Paige, and the recurring manifestation that Gillian Anderson has died and received a state funeral, make the show feel fresh when delivered briefly, yet do eventually drag. What is more interesting are the genuinely serious questions that the show poses at its core, and the several moving moments that accompany them. When the duo declare that Isabel Perón is still alive, a small collective gasp ripples through the auditorium; the character suddenly feels real.
Likewise, it’s incredible to discover the meticulous research that Biscuit and Mothersole have engaged in. Through clever use of projection, we watch the pair take a trip to Spain in an effort to find their beloved Argentinian leader, which even culminates in the opening of their very own Spanish art exhibition. Despite the goofy energy, immense care has clearly been invested in this show.
In fact, perhaps the absurd digressions are central to this show’s fundamental point. Will naked rollerskating, duck costumes, and a grotesque puppet of Evita/Andrew Lloyd Webber make audiences remember this woman? Or will they unjustly fade into the darkness like so many impressive women before them? I, for one, am positive that, with Evita Too, Sh!t Theatre have certainly left a legacy.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
