★★★★☆
Whilst ‘Memory’ is my favourite musical theatre song, I knew very little about Cats. Before seeing it, I asked my mum if she knew what it was about. She sarcastically replied, “cats?” Turns out, she was spot on. Ostensibly, Cats is literally just about cats, with not much of a narrative at all – but it still has a lot to say.
Cats is based on the 1939 poetry collection Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T. S. Eliot, which composer Andrew Lloyd Webber loved as a child, and that love comes through in Cats; it really does feel like a passion project, both to its advantage and its detriment. Each poem is about a different cat, and each song in the musical is based upon at least one of those poems. It’s a sung-through musical, which began as a song cycle, and the musical has been built around those songs, which is quickly evident by the lack of much plot.
The narrative thread-line, which was added after the first concert performance, is taken from a brief mention of the “Heaviside Layer”, i.e. cat heaven, in one of the poems. Perhaps because cats mythically have nine lives, the musical creates something of a revue, in which all the cats compete to go to the Heaviside Layer and be born again. When you really think about it, they’re all just desperate to die, but I quickly realised that you should not think too hard about Cats – which is hard to do when you’re a reviewer!
It actually took 40 years before Cats truly made sense, when it was reinvented as Cats: The Jellicle Ball in New York City, in which ballroom performers compete for a crown. I’m still praying we get a London transfer.
Whilst the musical lacks much of an overarching narrative, each song tells its own story. The cats are wonderfully characterised, each distinct from the next, and not only because of the camp costumes and make-up. But I was very glad for the costumes and make-up because I otherwise would have struggled to tell much of the pretty, twinky cast apart; it was like Ryan Murphy had done the casting. But, damn, can those twinks sing and dance!
There are scene-stealing performances by Matthew Caputo and Jaydon Vijn, as Skimbleshanks and Rumple Tum Tugger, respectively, whilst Jack Wilcox is captivating as Munkustrap, the host of the show.
The talent does not stop at the twinks. Elliot Broadfoot cements himself as one of the most mesmerising performers in British musical theatre, this time playing the dual role of Bustopher Jones and Gus, somehow providing both the musical’s most hilarious and tender moments.
Old Deuteronomy is played by a woman for the first time ever onstage, after Judi Dench played a gender-switched version of the character in the terrible film. Kalisha Amarish demands attention every single time she is onstage.
As for the Pussycat Dolls, popular performers Millie O’Connell and Patricia Zhou are unrecognisable as Demeter and Cassandra, respectively, and not just because of the costumes and make-up, but because they completely embody the cats they are playing, easily bringing to life Drew McOnie’s modern, feline choreography, which blends classical jazz and contemporary ballet with street dance, commercial styles, ballroom flair, and acrobatics.
McOnie is also the director of this bold, athletic, and exhilarating reimagining of a mythical musical, which previously felt a bit stuck in the ’80s. After the recent success of Jamie Lloyd’s radical reimagining of Sunset Boulevard, also composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber, which boldly cast (and paralleled) popstar Nicole Scherzinger (who also played Grizabella awhile back) as Norma Desmond (without the turban!), it was clear that audiences have an appetite for radically reimagined ALW – and for all his faults, it really is refreshing seeing an esteemed elderly artist embrace modernity and offer younger creatives the change to put their own spin on his creations. Lloyd, of course, followed Sunset Boulevard with Evita, starring Rachel Zegler.
This production is not as radical or imaginative as “Sunset Blvd”, but McOnie has nonetheless made it his own and confidently strayed away from the original.
Set designer Sami Fendall has replaced the iconic oversized rubbish dump with a sleek, industrial metal structure shaped like a crescent moon (or a huge cat eye). The rusty, metallic moon leans into the musical’s nocturnal imagery, foreshadowing the 11 o’clock number, ‘Memory’ (the only song that most people know from the show – and the best-known musical theatre song of all time!). Whilst some might miss the cluttered charm of the original design, or even find the new design to feel gentrified, that very well might be the point, with Fendall adding some subtle commentary to a production which, whilst story-light, has lots to say underneath, from the cats’ treatment of Grizabella to the various themes and topics explored in each song.
Less successful is Fendall’s costuming, which swaps the heavy, shaggy fur of the original for sleek, contemporary bodysuits. Whilst the form-fitting leotards, athletic wear and integrated knee pads highlight the dancers’ muscle control and intense acrobatic choreography – and the conceptual, shimmery make-up and high-fashion textures give each cat a distinct personality – ditching the fur makes the cast look too human. Further, the earthy beige, black and white costumes lack the charm of the original designs. There is also not enough consistency between the costumes; they look like they come from different productions of the same show.
After the criticisms for the London production, one might have expected a redesign, especially as Grizabella’s costume was for some reason redesigned – for the worse, as she looks even less like a dishevelled glamour cat now. Ironically, Old Deuteronomy, a God-like character, looks more like Grizabella should.
Jessica Hung Han Yun’s lighting design is breath-taking, especially when the crescent moon glows. It truly elevates key moments, especially the final ascent. I imagine it looked especially gorgeous at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, the crescent moon uplighting the surrounding trees, whilst the real moon glows from above. It will have been completely lost, however, during the daytime.
As for ‘Memory’. Oh, was it memorable. Rachael Wooding (who starred in the RPOAT production and is sharing the role on tour with Louise Dearman and Alice Fearn) is perfectly cast as the outcasted, elderly “glamour cat”. She perfectly captures the nuance of Grizabella, who is consumed with grief but not lacking in pride. She walks with poise, determined to be loved again, despite being repeatedly rejected by adult cats, who even pull their sweet, innocent, curious kittens away from her. She teases the song several times before finally singing it in full towards the end of the show, shaking the audience to the core, and reducing my friend, Gabriel Clarke, to tears. I absolutely adore ‘Memory’, and whilst I already loved Wooding, I was worried that her rendition might not do it for me, but she absolutely blew me away, and now I am almost tearing up just writing about it and reliving that moment. This weird-ass show is worth seeing just for that!
Whilst Cats could be considered to be songs over substance, those songs are all so lyrically strong and substantial as standalone stories. McOnie breathes new life into the musical whilst honouring the revolutionary imagination of the original production, letting the memory live again.
