James Olivas, Evita London’s leading man, on Jamie Lloyd’s radical new production
Jamie Lloyd’s new production of Evita is commanding headlines for Rachel Zegler’s nightly balcony sing-a-longs, but the show’s portrayal of her husband is arguably deserved of the same level of attention. The show is inspired by the real life marriage between Zegler’s heroine, Eva Perón, and the Argentinian leader Juan Perón. In actual fact, Juan was 35 years her senior – but in this buzzy new adaptation, he’s been given an elixir of youth to be around the same age.
Lloyd cast a relatively unknown actor, James Olivas from Texas, in the role of Juan – perhaps because he is “attractive”, Olivas says, making quote mark signs with his fingers. But partly because he shared Lloyd’s vision that bringing back Evita 50 years after it was written by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber calls for a radical rehaul.
“I spent a lot of time at the beginning being very self-critical, with imposter syndrome, thinking, ‘Why am I auditioning for this?’” Olivas tells City AM. “Over time, working with Jamie, it has made more and more sense. I’ve started to lean into who I am as an individual, and what I can bring to the character, and how it’s so different from the versions that have come before. How me being so different makes so much sense for this production.”
Evita: London musical stars James Olivas opposite Snow White’s Rachel Zegler

Read more: Evita, Palladium review: Rachel Zegler isn’t the problem
Lloyd is one of the great British theatrical visionaries of our time. His productions are radically stripped-back and often look unrecognisable from their source material. Over the past five years he has reimagined classics including The Tempest, Romeo + Juliet and most famously Sunset Boulevard.
His incorporation of live video into performances has become a trope that has been criticised for feeling overused. In Evita, though, filming Rachel Zegler singing Don’t Cry For Me Argentina on the London Palladium’s balcony has been a masterstroke, as much a PR stunt as a comment about how Eva Perón’s roots are with the Argentine working classes rather than the theatre-dwelling elite. Zegler isn’t new to political readings of her work: as an actor of Colombian descent, her casting as Snow White meant the 24-year-old from New Jersey was at the receiving end of racist abuse: “Eva Peron being such a controversial figure, having so much hate and love, is so directly parallel to Rachel Zegler’s very young career,” says Olivas.
De-aging Juan Peron is arguably another marketing tool: Zegler romancing Olivas is a far more appealing prospect than some guy double her age. “The element of casting younger is to be more of a player,” says OIivas. “An older man coming into a room with power is very different from a young man. It gives you a lot more to play with. You’ll see a lot more skin. The old ladies will be shocked, but they’ll come back!”
For Olivas, who agrees with the popular consensus that the source material has dated, the age gap is “not a thing that you can do in 2025,” but it’s also a distraction. Introducing a similarly aged pair “allows you to not worry about that” and engage with them on a deeper level, he says.
There’s much to explore: Juan has Fascist tendencies, and helped Nazis exile to Argentina after the war, and there are allegations that he forced Eva to have a lobotomy when she was ill with cancer. It’s debateable whether removing some of the power dynamic dilutes the abuse between them, although Olivas believes that, actually, a young Juan Peron represents the new breed of Populism around today.
“We want to talk about a more modern version of what politics is like,” says Olivas. “You’re not getting someone with a Hitler mustache, you’re getting young, engaging people. They’re relatable and they’re charming. I think we have a responsibility as artists to respond to the time that we are living in and make things relevant and pursue making it relatable to the audiences.”
Until Evita came up, for Olivas, London hadn’t been on the cards. But on a warm day in June, we’re sitting outdoors at Smokestak, the Shoreditch barbecue restaurant that kickstarted the low ‘n’ slow trend in the capital at the turn of the last decade.
Olivas, who is 28, grew up in Texas and is excited for a taste of home. We’re sharing pastrami and brisket cuts plated up artfully and designed for sharing. He misses his family and says his life recently has been spread throughout different cities, depending on where the work takes him.
Before acting called, Olivas eyed up a professional career in football, but injuries prevented him from progressing. As a teenager his mum suggested he involved himself in community theatre, which he loved, and he has worked professionally since 2019, including on the FX series American Horror Stories for television and a trio of theatre roles in Los Angeles that includes American Idiot, a production using sign language inspired by the Green Day LP.
Evita is his breakthrough lead role. He was the last major cast announcement and says being involved means the world to him. “As a Latino actor, you’re always aware of the small amount of opportunities that are on the floor,” he says. “I’m very fortunate. I’m a very white-passing Latino person, so I can play white roles where other members of the community cannot.”
After a fizzy rosé chaser, Olivas is excited to carry on exploring London (earlier that Sunday, his only day off, he’d been to Borough Market and got stuck in a tourist scrum). London fulfils a bucket list ambition, he says, but really Olivas just seems super excited to be working on something so boundary-pushing.
“If you’re doing exciting art, there should be people that are very upset about it,” he says before we get the check. “If everybody was good with it, part of me would feel that maybe this isn’t exciting. Maybe it’s not engaging enough. I look forward to the people that will dislike me because I want to be doing productions that are divisive.”
Photography by Alex Johnson and styling by Crystalle Cox; until 6 September; book tickets at Evitathemusical.com
Read more: Evita, Palladium review: Rachel Zegler isn’t the problem