Friday, October 12, 2001
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal
REVIEW: Popular 'Cats' delivers exactly what fans want
By CAROL CLING
REVIEW-JOURNAL
In the world at large, some people love cats and some don't.
In the musical world, some people love "Cats" and some don't.
And the current touring production of Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical staple -- which concludes an eight-performance run this weekend at the Aladdin -- seems unlikely to change anyone's mind.
In structure, "Cats" remains an extended, feline-flavored variation on the old "Mousketeer Roll-Call" that opened every episode of TV's venerable "Mickey Mouse Club."
The Mouseketeers managed to keep their introductions brief, but "Cats" stretches those introductions the way a cat stretches its spine, luxuriating in the sheer physicality of the process.
We get crooning cats and dancing cats, pouncing and prancing as they sing each other's praises in lyrics borrowed from poet T.S. Eliot's "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats."
We get Lloyd Webber at his peppiest and poppiest, with only the poignant "Memory" to remind us (and remind us and remind us in multiple reprises) of his more haunting melodic gifts.
In "Cats," Webber's music ranges stylistically from a bump-and-grind salute to the mysterious cat "Macavity" to the mock-opera parody of "Growltiger's Last Stand," the show's most sustained bit of melodic whimsy.
Despite the stylistic variations, however, the theme remains the same in almost every instance: Meet the cats!
Whether that's enough to sustain a musical depends on your requirements for theatrical diversion.
If, like me, you prefer shows that boast such quaint attributes as plot and character development, then "Cats" will never qualify as a must-see.
But there's a reason it reigns as Broadway's longest-running musical, closing last year after a 7,485-performance run.
And that has to do with sheer stagecraft.
Alas, the opening-night Aladdin audience caught this "Cats" without experiencing one of its unquestioned trademarks: John Napier's magically detailed junkyard set, which didn't materialize onstage because one of the tour's trucks broke down, delaying its arrival. (Naturally, the show went on -- in a "concert" version performed before a single moon-dappled backdrop. Opening-night audiences were invited to see the show, then exchange their ticket stubs for other performances.)
The fanciful scenery provides a colorful backdrop -- and crucial context -- for "Cats' " collective skulkings and scamperings.
Without it on opening night, "Cats' " resident felines were forced to carry the burden of the fantasy themselves.
Some of them rose to the challenge more successfully than others.
As Munkustrap, the unofficial narrator of the proceedings, strong-voiced Grant Turner stalks the stage with authority. As the rockin' Rum Tum Tugger, Stan Stanley hams it up with hip-twisting glee. William Hartery demonstrates notable vocal range as the doddering theater cat Gus and his onstage alter ego, the swashbuckling Growltiger.
And Gretchen Goldsworthy proves a suitably grizzled, if somewhat melodramatic, Grizabella, the erstwhile glamour cat whose search for acceptance (and touching memories of her faded beauty and vanished happiness) provide "Cats" with what little dramatic structure it musters.
In the dance department, the tap-happy Jennyanydots (Julie Garnyé), the nimble Skimbleshanks (John Sechrist) and the whirling, twirling Mr. Mistoffelees (McCree O'Kelley) make the most of their showy numbers.
And while tour director and choreographer Richard Stafford keeps the cats capering throughout, there's a slightly nagging sense that "Cats" may be nearing the end of its seemingly endless nine lives.
These days, Napier's imaginative costumes seem to be a little more leotard, a little less fur. The synthesizer-heavy orchestra (directed by Mark McLaren) has a measured, slightly mechanical feel. Some of the oh-so-cute kitties verge on the cloying. And the emotional spark that can transform clever stage trickery into a thrilling theatrical memory seems ever more elusive.
As old Gus himself acknowledges: "The theater is certainly not what it was. These modern productions are all very well, but there's nothing to equal, from what I can tell, that moment of mystery when I made history ..."
There's no doubt "Cats" has made theatrical history. Just how much longer it can keep making it is another matter altogether.
Call me catty, but if this "Cats" is any indication, the show won't always be able to live up to its promotional slogan: "Now and forever." For now, however, it manages to land on its feet.