I recently attended a performance of Evita at the famed American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, MA and left feeling incredible pathos for the character of Che. This surprised me, as I had always experienced Che as an angry stand-in for the audience’s perspective, a single critical voice against the rise and fall of Eva Peron. This was new, a man portrayed as a victim of lost hope, whose anger is a thin shield for his hurt. In this version, we see a younger, more naive version of Che in the midst of the political movement of the Perons.
I was able to ask actor Omar Lopez-Cepero about this novel arc for Che, his collaboration with Director Sammi Cannold, what he does for self-care while carrying such an emotionally heavy role and where he finds resolution for his character in this production’s version of the story.
Can you talk about your approach to the character of Che?
Sammi’s [Director Sammi Cannold] desire has been to really elevate Eva’s story, a more fully dimensional storytelling. The audience is allowed to experience it and then make their own judgments. The original production of the show had been designed with this Che Guevara character that has its own problematic way of storytelling because of his characterization. But also he didn’t exist as Che Guevara in the time when Eva Peron had come into power.
So for various reasons, they decided to shift away from that storytelling and to live in this “every man” state. As I talked to Sammi about it, I said that for me, his argument and his feelings seem so personal that they feel more than just a general person’s negative opinion. He feels like something has really hit him in his core. I asked, “How can we explore that?” That’s how the younger Che version came into fruition. What if he was within the ranks of the Perons? What if he loved and idealized her and loved Peron like an older brother or a father figure? What if he had invested his whole self into these people and then as he starts to mature and see how the sausage is made, he starts to realize that things are going in a direction that he doesn’t really agree with? As he becomes more comfortable within these ranks, he starts to voice his opinion, his voice of opposition, which is immediately squashed. We know that in the Peron’s regime, anyone who spoke out against Eva or Juan was excommunicated.
The show starts with her death, it is immediately intense. How do you prepare off-stage to enter into that emotionally?
The imagery and the music give us a lot. Once I step onto that stage, I’m really able to transport.
In this version, we wanted to establish this Che to be in the future. This is almost like a memory play, everything that happens in the play is a recollection of that first moment on stage. So the idea of me walking out and looking at the dress is supposed to symbolize that the world is existing inside of this frame. I’m visiting her monument when her body is returned to Argentina, it’s a flood of these memories. I’m immediately taken back to that funeral. It is a difficult story to tell because the funeral is, arguably, at the height of his anger, but we’re seeing it 17 years in the future. He’s had 17 years of this underneath his skin, this has haunted him for all of those years. I start the song, “Oh What A Circus” with a bubbling energy and a sense of sarcasm and irony. As the memories start to flood in and I start to hear the voices of the people, it starts to really burrow its way underneath me and I can’t hold that anger anymore. He’s lived in a state of stress and anxiety for a long time and it explodes.
When we start the story again, when we go to Junin and to Buenos Aires, he’s remembering the beginnings of it so his anger isn’t as triggered. He can experience these things and almost remember why he fell in love with her and why he admired her and Peron. Then he starts to realize, it could have been so good, it could have been great and you ruined it. The second act is where he just can’t hold it anymore. When we get to the waltz, I can’t take it anymore, I have to say to you what I’ve always meant to say to you.
The final moment, I think, is my favorite moment in the show. While Eva sings “Lament”, Che has his mental breakdown. All of this is happening in his mind, and it all reaches to a boiling point as he’s seeing all of the things flash before his eyes right before he remembers her dying and what that meant. Then she emerges on the other side of the frame where he has been telling the story. It’s like a vision that he’s having of her talking to him directly, in present time. It’s the moment where I step down, I join her on the outside of the frame, and I understand why she was the way she was. It’s a cathartic release to say, “Okay, I can let this go.”
I play this like this is the first time I’m visiting her memorial since she passed, when her body was finally returned to Argentina. So there’s a lot of complexities that aren’t necessarily in the writing, but that with Sammi’s direction and collaboration, we really came up with something that I feel has so much more depth for people that really want to experience it in that way.
Is Che seeing her as a whole person with strengths and flaws at the end?
I think that anytime we have icons and people that we idolize, we usually see them without flaws. We put them on pedestals that are not attainable or realistic. There’s a lot in the imagery of Eva Peron. That’s why the dress is like an iconic figure.
I see my character as having loved where things were going, having believed in the mission. He idolizes these rock stars that now have taken him under their wings. I think that that’s a process of him growing up and realizing that sometimes we choose not to see things that are right in front of us. As we start to pull the curtain back, we start to make our own decisions.
I think this is a man who was so emotionally beaten down by experience, it would be like your big brother telling you that you can’t be part of the family anymore. I think that that’s why he has so much hate towards Eva, because I think he blames Eva for not letting Peron listen to him.
While preparing the show, we talked about Ricardo Guardo who was a political advisor to the Perons and very close to them. One day he raised voices of concern and was completely excommunicated and stripped of titles and land. That’s such an abuse of power and delusion to think that you are so above everything that you don’t have to listen to anyone else. That’s a very scary and dangerous place for leadership in a country.
Can you talk about the framing in this production, with your character, Che, reflecting back from the perspective of what he knows now?
Sammi really didn’t want me as Che to affect the story. She wanted me to be able to step into the story and observe, but to not be able to manipulate any scenery or anything like that. The only moment that it happens is in the waltz. In a lot of ways, that’s also in my mind because the young Che comes and dances and it’s supposed to be that he’s about to say something but he doesn’t ever say it because she gets sick. I’m interjecting with what I wanted to say in that moment. It makes our storytelling more rich because we have subtext, we have a backstory, which really justifies why our behavior is the way that it is.
After that moment during the waltz is when the emotional break really happens because he finally got to say what he wanted to say and then he witnesses her dying. It triggers that montage where everything starts flashing through his eyes. He starts seeing it all and then she dies and he’s thinking, “Is it over?” All of a sudden she’s there on the other side of the frame with him. That, for him, is the release. He finally lets it all go. I think that him being able to experience all of that is him finally putting it to rest and being able to be done.
With such an intense role and emotional journey, what do you do after the show to leave Che at the theater?
I have played two very difficult roles in the last year. I also played Judas on the national tour of Jesus Christ Superstar. I think Judas was harder for me because Judas never had a resolution. He would kill himself and then he would come back and sing the song but he never really had any reconciliation or closure. That, for me, was really tough. With this show, I think because I have that cathartic release and that closure, it allows me to kind of release.
It’s still very heavy, I definitely need a moment after the show. I also realized that I needed to make my dressing room a spa-like space. I have my diffuser, string lights and some greenery. I’ll usually put some music on just to come down after the show. I think that I’m now at a place where I can turn it on and I can turn it off.
I think it does help to really have a beginning, middle, and end for his arc and then be able to leave it once I step off the stage. I go on this journey every night and this version is much more emotionally and even physically demanding because I never leave the stage. There’s definitely those challenges that come along with it but it’s also so much more rewarding to perform a role like this and to go on that journey every night.
You can find out more about the production and purchase tickets at the American Repertory Theater website. Evita runs through July 30th.