I’d loved to have been in the same room when Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice got together in the 70s, to discuss their latest project.

“Yo, Andrew! Let’s talk hit musical.”

“Good idea, Tim, old boy. I was thinking we should collaborate on a moving portrait of a South American dictator...”

“Are you wacko, Webber!? Mel Brooks only got away with his Third Reich romp about dictators because it was a spoof musical performed during the conclusion of The Producers.”

“Come on, Tim! Where’s your sense of adventure? We’ve already had a hit with show tunes about the messiah. Let’s do the same for Eva Peron!”

I imagine that’s how it happened. Though, of course, I’m only guessing.

Whichever way the conversation ran, I’m glad Webber and Rice did write Evita.

The music... the drama... the dazzle... the danger. It’s all there.

It’s so good, in fact, they really should adapt it for the cinema.

Oh, that’s right. They did. Though it starred Madonna, which made it a bit of a soggy squib.

That’s certainly not the case with this fresh and frisky incarnation, currently wowing Hippodrome audiences.