You cannot call yourself a musical geek if you have not been exposed to the inane joy that is “Cats”. Is it ridiculous? Yes. Plot-less? For the most part. Immensely entertaining? Absolutely.
Perhaps nothing epitomizes, and stereotypes, Broadway fanatics more than “Cats,” that musical which is only second to “Phantom of the Opera” as the longest running musical in Broadway history. It opened in London in 1981 and ran on Broadway from 1982 to 2000.
It is currently playing at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood until March 21.
Based on T.S. Eliot’s “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats,” with music by Andrew Lloyd Weber, “Cats” contains no coherent storyline, forgoing that for song and dance numbers.
In between the songs, there is a skeleton of a story, which takes place during a moonlight gathering of a gang of cats called the Jellicle Cats (for cats need to have dignified and particular names). At this gathering, the cat leader, Old Deuteronomy, will choose one cat to be reborn.
But whom should he choose? The musical will help him answer that question via singing, prancing, and energetic choreography and songs dedicated to a myriad of cats, all with distinctive personalities and colors.
The main emphasis is on Grizabella (Anastasia Lange), an aging cat whose purpose is to tug the audience’s heartstrings through her rendition of the show-stopper “Memory.” The other cats, aside for the main group dancing on stage, you will see only once.
The singing voices are lacking at places. Most prominently is Lange’s initially weak version of “Memory,” though all is forgiven when she enters that final verse of the song and a chill runs up your spine as you feel the full power of her entreaty. Adam Steiner’s Rum Tum Tugger (the “curious cat”) could also have clearer delivery.
Yet the singing is not the reason to go see “Cats,” even though the show contains very few spoken lines. The songs are catchy, as any Weber songs generally are, but less important than the skill of the singer singing them is if he or she can sell the songs and make the audience laugh at the senseless lyrics.
And for the most part, the performers succeed in pulling the audience in with their energy and exuberance. Yet the songs would not work without the dancing to accompany it; either in the slow, melancholy solo dance of Grizabella or the group dance “The Jellicle Ball”.
The real star of the show is the choreography; there is rarely a moment where there is no dancing. Each individual cat (no two of whom look alike) having their own way of moving. No two dancers perform the choreography the same way, making for a diverse viewing experience.
You may have questions during the musical, and you will probably wonder why certain songs are being sung. For its part, “Cats” will definitely not answer any of your queries and will refuse to make any sense.
Hence the appeal of “Cats” and perhaps the reason why it has been on stage for so many years. It is a safe musical, not meant to offend. There is no deep message about life or the universe and it is not meant to hold the audience in too much suspense. There is an attempt to question the meaning of happiness but that is readily tossed aside in the name of song and dance.
As such, go to “Cats” for the pure spectacle of it all. Where else can you see people somersault, flip, stretch, and dance in fabulous synchronicity on stage, all the while wearing leotards with fur on their faces?
It is not meant to make you think. Instead, it is meant to make you smile and to take you away to a world where cats can be theatrical, thievish, ambitious and silly.
If you are a viewer who prefers story over style and spectacle, then it would be best to avoid “Cats.”
Yet for those who want to let their minds roam for two and a half hours, go see “Cats” for the dancing, the lights, for the inane, sometime incomprehensible lyrics. If you leave with a smile and humming the songs, then the musical probably did its job.
E-mail Tran at dtran@media.ucla.edu.