What Do You Want in a Revival? Reinvention or a Redo?

by Chris Peterson

Let’s ask the question: What do you actually want out of a revival?

Do you want a mirror held up to a production you already loved, almost note for note, light cue for light cue? Or do you want something new, even if it means shattering the very thing that made you fall for the show in the first place?

This season alone, theatre fans are wrestling with both ends of the spectrum, and it is starting to feel like a full-on identity crisis. Between Jamie Lloyd’s stripped-down, stylized Sunset Boulevard and his forthcoming Evita West End revival starring Rachel Zegler, the discourse is... let’s call it lively.

Lloyd’s Sunset Boulevard, currently running on Broadway with Nicole Scherzinger as Norma Desmond, is the exact kind of artistic provocation that gets people talking. Gone are the sweeping staircases and elaborate set pieces. Instead, we are given stark minimalism, black-box intensity, boxer briefs, and projections that feel closer to a European art film than a Golden Age musical. It is moody. It is stark. It is nothing like the original. Which, of course, is the point.

Critics have mostly swooned. Scherzinger won a Tony and even Patti LuPone had high praise.

But the comment sections are where things get interesting. One Redditor put it plainly: “I thought the show overall was pretty good… but surprised at the insane hype. The themes feel superficial and simplistic. Why put a modern twist on this when we could have had an original and new story?”

There it is, that tension. Not just between new and old, but between reinvention and replacement. When a revival does not remind someone of what they once loved, it is not always embraced as daring. Sometimes it is received as betrayal.

And that brings us to Evita.

Rachel Zegler is currently preparing to take on the iconic role of Eva Perón in Lloyd’s newest minimalist revival, with a West End debut just around the corner. The production already has people buzzing, and not just because Zegler sang “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” on a balcony outside the theatre. Yes, really. It is a literal echo of the show’s famous staging and, symbolically, a reminder of the show’s power when art and politics bleed into each other.

But that excitement sits alongside another kind of reaction. Some fans have voiced frustration online about buying a ticket only to find that the show’s most iconic number is performed outside the theatre. Others express a kind of fatigue. Another Jamie Lloyd deconstruction. Another Andrew Lloyd Webber score placed under a microscope. Another beloved memory recast in grayscale.

So again, I ask: What is it that we want?

There is a portion of the audience that wants to see the original magic recreated. They want their memories validated and their nostalgia celebrated. They want the chandelier to fall in Phantom, the helicopter to land in Miss Saigon, and for Eva to descend that marble staircase in Evita like she is royalty. That is a completely valid desire.

Then there are the others. The ones who want theatre to evolve. Who believe revivals should re-examine, reframe, and sometimes outright reject the assumptions of the original. Who do not just tolerate bold swings, but crave them.

And then there is the largest group of all. The people in the middle. They want to see something familiar, but through a new lens. They want to feel respected as fans, but surprised as audiences. They want context without condescension. They want reverence without repetition.

So theatre makers are stuck navigating that balance. Too faithful, and you risk being called boring. Too radical, and you risk alienating the very people who paid to come back. The truth is, no revival will ever please everyone. But maybe that is not the goal. Maybe the best revivals are the ones that start conversations and do not always finish them.

As for me, I will always lean toward reinvention. If I already loved the original, I do not need it repeated back to me. I want to be surprised. I want to see a director wrestle with the material and find something new inside it. That is where the magic lives.

So I will leave you with this. When you walk into a revival, are you hoping to revisit what you know? Or are you willing to see it for the first time again?

Because Broadway is going to keep asking that question. And you, dear audience, are going to have to decide how to answer.