Two decades after her death, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice created the musical Evita about the infamous Argentinian first lady, Eva Perón. The musical, more akin to that of an opera (much like Man of La Mancha) tells the story of Eva’s rise to power, from rags to riches in a Cinderella fashion. We see as she searches for a life of fame and fortune as an actress in Buenos Aires, in which she finds it easier to sleep her way to the top, as they say, and step into politics. Cue Juan Perón, a military colonel rapidly climbing the political ladder. Eva inserts herself into Perón’s life helping him win the people over to win the election. After their victory, Eva gives her famous speech to her relentless followers pleading them to not cry for her for she is there to help them. We see her travel, preaching about Peronism and doing charity work. “She was a fraud, but a fraud whose genuine hatred for the rich shined through in her speeches, who gave Argentine women the vote, who raised workers' salaries at the expense of corporate profits, and who took great delight in managing a vast national charity for the benefit of supplicants who brought their problems to her directly” (Lardner, Washington Post). Then, after a fainting spell at a church, we abruptly find out that she has cancer and her death is imminent. We see her beg, no, demand to be named Vice President despite her illness and Perón’s advice. But the sickness grows stronger and she gives her final emotional speech to the people before she passes.

The story is narrated and commented on by Che Guevera (similar to that of El Pachuco in Zoot Suit), who has no relation to Eva other than he was Argentinian and well known politically (though many years later).  Che “buzzing over the story like a mosquito, seems to promise an ideal perspective for delving into the mystery of why a nation would throw itself at the feet of so transparently vain, ignorant and dishonest a woman” (Lardner, Washington Post), but he mostly serves as an informative to catch the audience up on the tightly packed information thrown in this musical. “Vital scenes are simply absent, there are no conclusions, no judgments, we can arrive at on our own. They've all been handed down, hammered down, from the outset. We're not participants, we're recipients of postal cards (and photographs) from all over. Which is a chilly and left handed way to write a character musical” (Kerr, NYT). Without scenes, we are left to get the story from the lyrics which are often hard to get to from the registers they are sung in and the intensity of the music.