I didn’t plan to write about this. Honestly, I haven’t written a blog post in weeks but this one’s been simmering. And after seeing one too many social media threads moaning about Evita, I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer. So here we are.
Let’s talk about the Jamie Lloyd-directed production of Evita currently running at the London Palladium. Let’s talk about Rachel Zegler. And let’s talk about that moment, the now-iconic staging of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” being sung not from the stage… but from the actual balcony of the theatre.
If you’ve seen the show, or even just clips, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Around 9pm, Zegler appears on the Palladium’s upper balcony, in full view of the street, singing directly to the crowd gathered outside. Inside the theatre, the paying audience watches it unfold via screens.
And for some reason, this has caused absolute chaos online.
People are outraged. “I paid over £150 for my seat and had to watch her on a screen.” “It broke the moment.” “It felt like a concert for the public, not the paying audience.”
But here’s the thing. And I mean this with love:
If that’s your takeaway,
you’ve misunderstood everything this musical is about.
🧠 Let’s remember who Eva Perón actually was.
Eva Duarte wasn’t born into power. She wasn’t handed a mic. She fought her way into history, into politics, and into the hearts of Argentina’s working class. Her most famous speech, the one “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” is based on wasn’t for the political elite inside the palace.
It was for the people outside, gathered in the square below the Casa Rosada, hoping she could see them. Hoping she still remembered them. Hoping she would speak to them.
That’s what Jamie Lloyd’s staging is doing. It’s not just a design choice it’s a living metaphor. Rachel Zegler stepping out onto that balcony to sing to the crowd in the street while the in-house audience watches on a screen is a direct nod to the most famous moment of Eva’s life.
It doesn’t diminish the scene.
It amplifies it.
🎭 The Theatre Is the Metaphor
This is what Jamie Lloyd does best. He strips back everything theatrical and replaces it with pure symbolism. This isn’t about lavish sets or traditional staging. This is about power. Access. Presence.
The elite, us, the theatre audience, are inside, removed from the action. Watching it happen at a distance. On a screen. While Eva sings directly to those gathered in the street.
Those without tickets. Those without privilege.
Those who, symbolically, were always her people.
🎥 But I Paid to See It in Person!
I hear you. I do. But theatre isn’t just about comfort. It’s about challenge. And if you’re sitting there thinking “I paid for the best view and didn’t get it,” maybe just maybe that’s exactly what Jamie Lloyd wants you to sit with.
It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes, the most powerful messages aren’t delivered to those at the top. They’re delivered to those outside. And if that makes you uncomfortable, good. That’s what theatre is supposed to do.
Also… you get every other second of Rachel Zegler’s phenomenal performance up close. Let the street have their moment. That balcony scene belongs to the people. Always has.
💔 My Regret and Why This Matters
I never got to see Jamie Lloyd’s Sunset Boulevard. I thought it would be on longer, and I missed it. It’s possibly my one great theatrical regret. So when Evita was announced, I knew I had to pay attention. I’ve loved this show since I first saw the film with Madonna and Antonio Banderas (don’t come for me — I still think Antonio was the best Che).
Evita isn’t just a musical I love. It’s one I understand. And this production, stripped back, symbolic, political, feels like the closest we’ve ever come to capturing the truth behind the legend.
📝 Final Thoughts
You don’t have to love the balcony scene. But if you find yourself furious about it, maybe take a moment and ask:
Is the production failing you? Or is it challenging you?
Because in this case, I think it’s the latter.
And personally? I think Eva would have loved that.