Kathryn Evans in Sunset Boulevard
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Kathryn Evans is no stranger either to the West End or to musical theater, but the alumna of Evita, Mack and Mabel, and Anything Goes, among very many other titles, has surely never had as demanding an assignment as she is currently facing at the Comedy Theatre in Sunset Boulevard. Evans, who was the last West End Eva Peron in director Hal Prince's original staging, is now playing Norma Desmond—she of the outsized ego and misplaced dreams. She stars in an entirely fresh take on the show from director/choreographer Craig Revel Horwood that finds the cast—all except Evans's Norma—doubling as musicians: think of it as the John Doyle aesthetic minus John Doyle (though very much with his Tony-winning musical arranger, Sarah Travis, in tow). A different physical set—the designer is Diego Pitarch—allows for a focus on character, not hydraulics, and puts center stage a veteran performer at the top of her game. What follows are Evans' thoughts on playing, perhaps, the most extreme of actresses and on a career that, with this show, is marking its own, very real comeback.
I would imagine Norma Desmond is the sort of role of which every musical theater actress dreams.
Oh, yes! I first saw [the musical] about 14 years ago when I was playing Rose in Aspects of Love and—it was very cheeky, actually—I said to Andrew [Lloyd Webber, the composer], "I'm absolutely going to play this part," to which he said, "Don't be ridiculous; you're too young!" "You'll have to wait 14 years." Well, now I'm in my 50s, so I'm not too young anymore.
And you get to play the role anew in a fresh production, not merely as the latest in a string of celebrity Normas.
That's the loveliest thing about this; you can put your own stamp on it. And I did try and wipe the slate clean. I'd seen Glenn [Close] in a "Making of Sunset Boulevard" video, or some such, and she was just terrific, but as a performer, you like to think you can put your own mark on it. What I did do was not so much research other Normas in this show as go on youtube and look at as much Gloria Swanson as I could find.
The approach of this production goes some way toward separating it out from the Trevor Nunn production, as well.
All those instruments on stage! Norma is the one character that doesn't play anything at all, though we did at one point toy with having her bang a triangle. But in a way it's appropriate that she not play an instrument because she's quite removed from the rest of the cast in her ivory tower. Max—our lovely Dave Willetts—plays the guitar and percussion, Betty plays the flute and our lovely Joe, Ben Goddard, gets to do the double bass, keyboards, flute and guitar. He can do everything. He's one of those irritating people who can do it all.
As an actress, what it is like playing someone else who's also an actress, albeit of a fairly extreme sort?
Crikey, that's a hard one. Personally, as an actress myself, I feel sorry for Norma and would like to think I've given her some vulnerability. But in a way, I quite like her to be an enigma to me; I can't know too much about her. I mean, it's such an emotional role and it does take it out of you: it's vocally demanding, emotionally demanding. So when you're not performing, you try to be your normal self. It's funny: when we were at the Watermill, Madeleine [Lloyd Webber] said to me, "Has it got to you yet?" Apparently, other Normas had found they were taking the role home with them, and I thought, "Thanks, Madeleine!" [Laughs.] When we were in Newbury over the summer, I shared a dressing room with the lovely Laura Pitt-Pulford, who plays Betty, and after the show she would be out in about 10 minutes whereas it took me about half an hour to gather myself together. There's something about the fact that Norma's a certain age and so am I that drains me.
All the better reason, then, to have a good home life.
Thank heavens! I've got my husband [Matthew Purves, a TV industry freelance] and our six dogs—four standard wire-haired Dachshunds and two Pekingese. They keep me sane.
Kathryn Evans in Sunset Boulevard
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Do you ever find yourself pining for parts that might have been?
The one that really upset me that I didn't get to do was Kiss Me, Kate, the production at the Victoria Palace that started out with Marin Mazzie [and then Rachel York]. I was to take over but then they closed it. And Annie Get Your Gun: I'd love to have had a go at that but now, sadly, I'm too old. I was brought up on those two scores with my mother, who was quite musical in her own way, and my grandmother, who was an ex-concert pianist, so I know that music.
What about the parts that await.
There's Mrs. Lovett, which seems an obvious one, and Hello, Dolly! and Gypsy, I guess. I was supposed to be doing Momma Rose for one night only in Cardiff in a concert version a couple of years ago but I was in a car accident in Ipswich, not far from where my husband and I live in the middle of Suffolk, and broke my leg in two places and my collarbone; the thing was, the collarbone never healed up: you can't see it but you can feel it. It's revolting. So I wasn't sure I was ever going to get back on stage again. This is really the first thing I've done since then. When Hedda Beeby called me from the Watermill to suggest this, it was like, ‘Oh my God, having opportunity handed to me on a plate.’ The accident had really knocked my confidence and I thought whatever I did afterwards would have to be absolutely the right part. And this is.
Your story has the makings of an extraordinary comeback.
Oh dear, that makes it sound all a bit like Norma. Let's hope mine is more successful.