Slut, saint or something in between? The national tour of Evita, the Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice musical which made Patti LuPone a star and lent Madonna some credibility, is making a brief appearance at the Warner Theatre in D.C. this week, and it tries to figure out how to categorize the most famous first lady in South America. This production's verdict on its anti-heroine, however, is rather apparent – Eva Peron was certainly no angel, and her hold on the Argentine people was as chilling as it was magnetic.

Evita is, to be frank, a weird musical. Done entirely in song, the play tells the story of Argentine actress Eva Duarte’s rise to power as she marries military leader Juan Peron, who goes on to assume the country's presidency. Eva Peron was considered a saint to the working classes she championed, but her husband’s force-driven politics, the regime’s hypocrisy and her own sexually-driven rise to prominence are emphasized in the play's book as well. Though its subject matter is a strange one, and its lyrics occasionally dated, the rock-opera score is memorable and charged.

Anyone familiar with the Madonna/Banderas version of cinematic fame will remember the titular character as a complicated one, pitiable for her tough childhood, somewhat admirable for her seemingly genuine compassion for her people, but questionable in her methods and her thirst for power. This is partially due to changes from the Broadway book, but also stems from Madonna’s sympathetic interpretation of Evita. But in this production, as Eva, Sarah Litzinger is steely and sultry, brimming with ambition and fire. She’s also borderline shrill and almost entirely unlikable. This is a legitimate take on the character, and makes for a unique viewing experience, as we view Eva’s ascent to power with cynicism and even disgust. It's an intriguing portrait of the self-interested, fascist politics of Argentina, but also makes one wonder whether investing two and half hours in this woman's life story is worth the time.

Earning our allegiance instead is Keith Byron Kirk’s rage-filled Che, a revolutionary who serves as the production’s contempt-filled narrator. "Instead of government, we had a stage; instead of ideas, a prima donna’s rage," Che observes as he reflects on Eva’s life and reign at her grand funeral. In this production, Che’s point of view quickly becomes our own, and Kirk finds himself alternately amused at high society’s rejection of Peron’s mistress ("Peron’s Latest Flame"), almost sad for Eva’s psychological state in the lovely, lilting "High Flying Adored," and ultimately outraged at his country’s neglected fate, as he and Evita dance their way through the tension-laced "Waltz for Eva and Che," a production highlight. Kirk’s bellowing vocals suit the part, and his angry energy and charisma set the pulse for such numbers as the jaunty "And the Money Kept Rolling In."

As Juan Peron, Philip Hernandez does a fine job capturing Peron’s more wishy-washy qualities in the face of his wife’s resilience. His "She’s a Diamond," by contrast, becomes a furious, almost desperate defense of Eva's virtues in the face of skepticism from his military rivals. As the second-rate musician Magaldi who brings young Eva to Buenos Aires, Andrew Ragone’s narcissistic guitar player hams it up to great appeal. Lending dramatic beauty to the staging is a pair of tango dancers (Nova Bergeron and Barry Brown) who glide poignantly in and out of several numbers.

Other scenic touches include a large screen, which indicates the setting of the show’s opening number – an Argentine movie theatre - and provides flashes of real-life photos of the Perons, which is effective for such numbers as "Rainbow Tour" but can occasionally feel superfluous. The use of black and white, almost ghastly-looking flags with Eva’s silhouette plastered on them, however, packs an eerie punch during "Requiem For Evita."

Evita runs through Sunday. Tickets can be purchased through Ticketmaster.