Those pesky Andrew Lloyd Weber/T.S. Eliot Cats seem to have a lot more than nine lives. This time the divisive musical, which ran on Broadway from 1982 to 2000 (toppling A Chorus Line as the longest running show of all time—at the time) is set in the drag ballroom milieu, reconceived as a showcase for marginalized queer people so they may express themselves on their terms.
I missed the smash off-Broadway run of Cats: The Jellicle Ball, which extended three times and had rabid fans purchasing many a repeat ticket. The Perelman Performing Arts Center production was honored with two Outer Critics Circle Awards including Outstanding Revival, three OBIE Awards, a New York Drama Critics Circle Special Citation, a Chita Rivera Award, three Dorian Theater Awards, and other accolades.
It’s no surprise (okay, maybe a wee bit of one) that it is making its Broadway bow at the revamped Broadhurst Theater.
I actually enjoyed the original show, which I saw in the 1990s—mostly for some of the songs and the tremendous voices singing them. A lot of it was just nonsensical. But “Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats” still pops into my brain quite often, even when I don’t want it to. Oh, and the less said about the 2019 debacle screen version, the better (poor Judi Dench)!
Directed by Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch, this Jellicle Ball reinvention leans heavily into camp—queer camp—via a ballroom runway theme. Anyone familiar with the Ryan Murphy TV series Pose or the classic doc, Paris is Burning will get it. Those who aren’t, may feel a bit lost—like going to a Lady Gaga concert with little to no knowledge of her music, dazzled but perplexed. The audience at the performance I attended were made up of screechingly loud fans (fluttering real fans) and patrons with rather bewildered looks on their faces.
A quick interjectory rant: recent theater has become so audience-interactive—even built into the fabric of some shows, that patrons seem to think they matter more than the performers. But it takes something away from the enjoyment when you can’t even hear “Tempress” Chasity Moore as Grizabella belt out “Memory,” because fans are making so much freakin’ noise. It’s not about you, people! Honor the performers by shutting the freak up! Rant over.
It is refreshing to witness these talented performers embody new types of retro cats that joyously celebrates uniqueness, daring and some swagger.
Standout Sydney James Harcourt is a sexy and seductive Rum Tum Tugger, and he nails his big Act One solo. Harcourt commands the stage, even when he slips off to a dark corner. His Act Two number dazzles and he even steals the stage from the ‘magical Mr. Mistoffelees.’ This entertainer is the answer to the Eliot lyric query: “Are you cock of the walk, when you’re walking alone?”
The legendary Tony-winner André De Shields arrives in royal fashion as Old Deuteronomy and was bestowed a tremendous ovation at my performance.
The most satisfying moment was watching a washed-up Grizabella get her groove and glamour back before she ascends to the heaviside layer (the heaven-like place where cats are reborn). And that ascension is done with the help of a stunning staircase that falls from above the catwalk. (Pun intended?)
The energetic, vogue-style choreography by Arturo Lyons and Omari Wiles should definitely be in Tony contention. Ditto the fab costumes and wigs (by Qween Jean and Nikiya Mathis) No one is made up to look like a cat. It’s more feline-friendly, drag-superior.
The Cats problem still remains, there’s no real story, save for Grizabella’s journey, just a host of vignette-like musical numbers, but the ballroom competition theme helps give it substance.
The underground drag balls were born out of a defiant group of mostly Black, queer folks who weren’t going to be defeated by poverty, AIDS and a world that demonized them as less than—without a fight. They bravely and proudly created a place for themselves where they could shine and thrive…and hopefully win a trophy!
At a poignant moment in the show, historical photographs are projected, a nice touch, but with no tags to give audience members any context –although a small but loud group made a lot of random noise in a manner that made it seem like they had no clue about the people in the photos, they just wanted to hear themselves cheer.
Cats: The Jellicle Ball is a fine tribute to ballroom. I just wish some of that history was conveyed to all audience members.
The show is playing at the Broadhurst Theatre (235 W. 44th Street, NYC) For tickets visit CATSTJB
