I would like to share something very cool that g.d.e.l.g.i. shared on another thread a few years back. It talks about how Liza Minnelli and Barbra Streisand were in the running to play Evita in the film. It's really fascinating:
1982: Paramount Pictures purchases the rights. Robert Stigwood, set to produce, chooses Ken Russell to direct. Russell spends three months working on the script, looking for European locations, and scheduling screen tests. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice are adamant about casting Elaine Paige (helps the latter happens to be warming her bedsheets at the time, I'd say). Ken seems to be the lone dissenter: "Although there is no doubt that across the footlights her performance brought tears to the eyes, the eye of the camera proved to be made of sterner stuff." He auditions an endless cavalcade of blond-wigged and gold-laméd "Evita clones, each doing an interpretation of 'Another Suitcase in Another Hall,'" with Webber and Rice forcing yet another screen test on Paige again and again, and Russell still holding strong. About the only casting decision he is sure of is David Essex as Che Guevara, thinking he would be "charming."
Russell desires a female lead with balls. For whatever reason, that reminds him of Barbra Streisand. He attempted to work with her once before in the Seventies on a picture about Sarah Bernhardt that never got made, so he has an "in." She treats him to a chilly dinner, and is munificent enough to fulfill his request for some wine by ordering half a bottle and downing most of it herself. She tries picking his brain on everything from camera lighting to crane shots to zooms. Finally, he realizes that "a Jewish princess playing a Catholic whore" is a nonstarter, and moves on to greener pastures.
Liza Minnelli is next on the block. Rice and Stigwood aren't sure; Webber is starstruck and thusly more open-minded. For her audition, she throws on a blond wig, and skips the gold lamé, and Rusell apparently gets the performance of her career. Quote: "So Liza sang in her jeans and T-shirt, and when she didn't know the words she improvised, soaring above obstacles that would have floored most aspirants to produce a performance so charismatic, so charged, so inspired, that she totally transcended the sentimentality and superficial glamor of the stagy, two dimensional character and turned her into a vibrant woman of flesh and blood who had clawed her way out of the slums and slept her way to the top to possess the very soul of a nation... And when she reached her climax with an orgasmic 'I'm coming,' so was everyone else in the place: man, woman, dog."
So Stigwood summons Russell to his estate to get his opinion. Quick 70 mph ride by speedboat clashing with gushing winds, during which he falls flat on his face and takes this to be an omen. Hits land, checks into a guest bungalow, is taken where to Stigwood is sat watching multiple news reports at once. Stiggie then takes the trouble to show Ken all the holes on his estate where the spider crabs hang out and mate (can you spell 'stalling'?). Finally, Ken gets him to sit down and watch the tape of Liza's audition.
Stigwood isn't ready to commit to a decision; he'll send Ken a message as soon as he's home. Ken leaves L.A., and as he's arriving at Heathrow in London, he's handed a message: "I opened the folded paper bearing my name scribbled in pencil. The message consisted of two words: 'Elaine Paige.' I immediately phoned my agent, who brushed aside my protestations... I couldn't believe it. I'd been set up. I'd been humored. It was always going to be Elaine Paige. My dreams of coming up with an alternative Evita were just dreams."
So Ken nips into a bottle of Beaujolais and weighs his decision. On the one hand, swallow his pride, brave the insult, and try for a hit; on the other, be an idealist, keep his dignity, and quit. The idealist won. He told his agent he was off the picture. Sherry Lansing had him over to Paramount to try and sweet-talk him, thinking he wasn't serious about bowing out and laying on the royal treatment, down to a magnum of champagne. Ken tells her flat out, no Elaine, no Evita, and she promptly puts away the champagne: "'What are you doing?' I said, raising my voice at the sight of my lunchtime tipple being locked away. 'We've nothing to celebrate now, have we?' she said, icily."
The creatives were the polar opposite of gracious winners as well, if Tim Rice's comments to the New York Times are any indicator: "Russell was an insane choice, and would have wrecked the film if he had gotten his hands on it. I was relieved when he got the boot."
Countdown til Jordan comes on raging about how much loves me! 3..2..1...
Updated On: 6/14/15 at 12:27 PM