EVITA -- The Gilbert & Sullivan Society -- City Hall -- Through October 15.

It may not have been a Night of a Thousand Stars but there were certainly a few of them sprinkled on the stage of City Hall on Wednesday evening to lead an excellent supporting cast through the triumphs and travails of the young prostitute who became Argentina's `Santa Evita'.

This production of Andrew Lloyd Webber's hit musical was also a personal triumph for Janice Moran, making her debut as artistic director. It was an enormous challenge, taking the Gilbert & Sullivan Society into the uncharted waters of a sung-through musical which is actually an oratorio-style rock opera rooted in Latin American rhythms.

She kept a fluid control over a complicated scenario that traces the transformation of Eva and her country over a period of 18 years. Despite the many abrupt changes of scene and mood, she managed to sustain the vital momentum and, most important, aroused a perhaps reluctant sympathy for a heroine who, at best, remains wildly controversial.

Political in theme and tracing the life of Eva Maria Duarte, whose rise to power reduced the richest country in South America to bankruptcy, could hardly be considered the stuff of hit musicals. Lloyd Webber succeeded against the odds, largely through his creation of (and some beguiling music for) the bewitching Eva, realising perhaps, that the celebrity-mad '70s and '80s would have an instant affinity with the young woman who shamelessly, and brilliantly, had manipulated the publicity machine conveniently at her disposal back in the 1940s.

Janice Moran was extremely fortunate in the performing and technical talent at her disposal. For those of us who remember the London and New York productions, it was the spectacular dance routines devised for armies of macho male dancers which posed the most daunting potential problem for local producers. Janice Moran, through close collaboration with an inspired Coral Waddell (choreographer) have wrought the impossible, however. While retaining the menacing aura of an immutable military force, Waddell has devised simple movements, well within the range of the enthusiastic amateur.

Ultimately, though -- and certainly from the audience's point of view -- it was the stellar quality of the five stars of this production which lifted it to the heights. One of the weaknesses in many past productions has been the shortage of accomplished male singers. This time, we had three.

Joel Froomkin, who has displayed a precocious talent for just about all branches of the theatre since his teens, came into his own on Wednesday evening with an intelligently perceived and subsequent brilliant execution of the pivotal role of Che. Based loosely on the sixties revolutionary hero, Che Guevera (who was actually a fellow compatriot and contemporary of Eva Peron) he represents, in the play, the voice of conscience and reason in Argentina's hysterical rush to ruin. What a joy it was to watch a talent of this calibre, where every nuance of gesture, meticulous diction (whether spoofing Spanish, Italian, French or English accents), formidable comedic timing in the many humorous moments of the show, and the physical stamina expected of a top professional, all topped off by an excellent tenor voice. Who can forget his cynical humour in `Goodnight and Thank You' as he observes the calculating Eva work through a string of men on her flight up the social ladder, the sardonic posture as he swaggers through the ranks of the marching armies and minces beside the shocked aristocrats in `Peron's Latest Flame', or the sheer force of an impassioned personality as he leads the chorus in the magnificent rendition of `A New Argentina'? Evita is one of the few `dream roles' in the modern musical, combining as it does, a show-stopping number that has long passed into the annals of showbiz history, with a challengingly complex, potentially unsympathetic character. It is a dangerous role, for the understanding of the audience has to be won without resorting to sentimentality. Karen Musson brilliantly achieved this tight-rope credibility balance. Her powerful voice which is as effortless in the lower register as it is in the highest soprano range, is matched by an alluring stage presence.

One of the high points of her interpretation was the first meeting with Juan Peron -- the electricity between these two was palpable. Another was a relatively minor incident, as finally, defeated and in physical pain, she collapses over the table -- and still bangs her fist in frustration at not getting her own way.

The great set piece of the show, as Evita walks, in white ball gown and dripping jewellery, on to the scarlet-draped balcony above her adoring masses to sing the transparently seductive `Don't Cry For Me, Argentina', is poignantly echoed as, defiant to the end, she drags herself to the microphone to sing the last farewell to her millions of disciples.

Brian Webb, who reveals a too-rarely displayed professionalism just by the way he makes an entrance, was a marvellous partner to this calculating creature.

As Juan Peron, he brought a solid splendour and rich baritone voice to the general who fully abetted Evita's courting of the unions in what soon became their dual bid for power.

Providing yet more comic relief in this fairly gloomy tale of `vaunting ambition' and death, was Keith Madeiros, obviously in his theatrical element as the preposterous Magaldi, the "cheesy'' nightclub tango singer who reluctantly takes Eva to Buenos Aires. Two of the best numbers belong to him, `On this Night of a Thousand Stars' and the lovely `Eva Beware of the City', and Madeiros made them uniquely his own.

The Mistress, unceremoniously thrown out of Peron's life when Eva moves in, has only one song but it, too, is a show-stopper. Soprano Stephanie Butler brought a strong, yet lyrical sweetness to `Another Suitcase, Another Hall'.

Musical director Tom Ray led a generally accomplished orchestra (apart, perhaps, from some brash brass which tended to drown the singers) through a highly complicated score which never lacked in verve and sparkle. He has done a fine job with the mixed chorus, who sang in fine and strong unison throughout, with Louise Cabral and Dee Edmunds maintaining a stylish control over the dance element.

Costumes, while adequate, were no more than that, a disappointment in that they were hired from a professional set-up in Boston, and comforting in the realisation that home-spun costumes of the past have earned far greater admiration. Why, incidentally, were the army corps saddled with toy-soldier uniforms that seemed to have come straight from `The Nutcracker'? The only serious `debit' in this production was the sound system by Great Sound, but often sounding anything but. Accustomed, presumably, to the ear-splitting cacophony of reggae and soca, Great Sound's expensive system is all over the place in the small confines of City Hall. It was especially infuriating to hear the customary purity of sound achieved by Karen Musson often distorted in her high notes thanks to this dubious `improvement'. At the dress rehearsal where, for some reason, most of the system was not working at all, she sounded perfect.

A relatively minimal set by Richard Klesniks and Michael Mello managed, however, to convey, often through giant placards and posters and filmed pictures of the real characters intermittently projected across the back of the stage, a sense of place. This only wavered in the living quarters of Eva and Peron, the utilitarian kitchen table and chairs being surely at odds with the claimed ostentation of their lifestyle.

The set was enormously enhanced by the imaginative lighting design of Annette Hallett, particularly in the dramatic opening and closing tableaux of Evita's funeral where the central characters (Eva and Che) were dramatically highlighted against the surrounding gloom.

This was, above all, a wonderful achievement by producer Marjorie Stanton, toiling through the endless minituae of these huge productions for the first time without the help of her husband and co-producer, Keith Stanton, who died earlier this year and to whose memory the show has been dedicated.

Wary as we all should be of Bermuda's unaccountable, yet ever-increasing fascination with standing ovations where, it seems, just about any old rubbish brings a sheep-like audience to its feet, `Evita's' first-night rapturous reception was richly deserved.

PATRICIA CALNAN THE MAGIC OF EVITA -- The famous balcony scene from `Evita' when President Juan Peron (Brian Webb) leads his wife (Karen Musson) before the masses as she sings `Don't Cry For Me, Argentina'.