The explosions of joy emanating from the Broadhurst Theatre these days are the rapturous response to “Cats: The Jellicle Ball,” a reimagining of the iconic, Andrew Lloyd Webber musical that ran for 18 years on Broadway from 1982-2000. The musical, based on a 1939 book of poems by T. S. Eliot, is an anthology of charming, anthropomorphic stories that spins typical feline behaviors into characters, many as recognizable “types” — at least in the human world.
The original production was always a bit bonkers and disjointed, with actors, covered in fur, pretending to be cats, clambering about a junkyard at their annual “Jellicle Ball,” where one of their number would be selected to go to the “heaviside layer” to be reborn and, presumably, claim another of its nine lives. At the time, theater cognoscenti delighted in criticizing “Cats,” but it seems equally bonkers to argue with the success of a show that has entertained more than 73 million people worldwide, according to Lloyd Webber’s site.
What’s remarkable in the new production, which had a sold-out run Off-Broadway last year downtown, is that without changing a word of the original, directors Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch have set the show in the world of Ballroom. Many people would know Ballroom from the movie “Paris Is Burning” or the TV show “Pose.” It was a movement, and an entertainment that emerged in the late 1960s in the Black and Latino communities in response to exclusion from predominantly white drag pageants and the implied racism. These new celebrations provide opportunities for queer people of color to express their full identities freely without the typical strictures of conventional gender roles. At the same time, a variety of “houses” were established to provide identity, social structure, and a safe haven from a world that was hostile to perceived outliers.
The concept is not just a theatrical trick; it’s an emotional, cultural, and spiritual grounding in the effort to find and express one’s authentic self. It is the unbridled joy of these cats who each find a stage in the world of Ballroom, momentarily freed from the rejections of an oppressive society, that gives this show its complexity and profound depth. It provides an internal logic for the piece, giving it cohesion and an emotional foundation in the search for individual authenticity and artistry.
The show is still an anthology, but rather than giving each song an isolated spotlight, the directors have created a dynamic world where the characters interact and support each other. It’s cast as a competition from the various houses, but it’s mostly a celebration of each cat’s vision and performance.
The ball proceeds under the watchful eye of Old Deuteronomy, the leader of the Jellicle cats. The cats compete for the trophy, and while every performance is memorable and exciting, a few stand out.
Sydney James Harcourt as Rum Tum Tugger, the “curious cat,” is ripped and strutting, making every heart (onstage and off) skip a beat. The “cat burglars” — Jonathan Burke as Mungojerrie and Dava Huesca as Rumpleteazer — are delightfully comic. Robert “Silk” Mason, as Magical Mister Mistoffelees, the “conjuring cat,” has a fluid physicality and unique style and attitude. Xavier Reyes is Jennyanydots, the house mother from The House of Dots,” and plays that role beautifully. Particularly moving and rich is the performance of Junior LaBeija as Gus “the theater cat.” LaBeija himself comes from the world of Ballroom as an emcee and member of the original House of LaBeija, which gives extra poignancy as a cat who has come from a world that has largely vanished.
Directors Levingston and Rauch also emphasize the transitory nature of, well, everything, with the portrayal of the elders. Most moving, though, is “Temptress” Chastity Moore as Grizabella, “the glamour cat.” She appears on the fringes of the Ball, and, of course, sings the classic song from the show “Memory.” Yet, when she sings, “I can smile at the old days. I was beautiful then,” we feel the inevitable losses in the passage of time. It’s bittersweet and moving.
In addition to the visionary direction, the splendid choreography by Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons capture the camp of Ballroom and marries it perfectly to the physicality of contemporary Broadway dance. It is at times gasp-inducing, and executed perfectly by each member of the cast. Of course, the costumes by Qween Jean are dazzling in their creativity and color and pattern riots. Rachel Hauck’s set design captures the sense of a warehouse where the cats may or may not be squatting to build their runway and their safe and magical home. Adam Honoré’s extravagant yet nuanced lighting makes wonderful use of color.
Special mention, though, must be made of sound designer Kai Harada. From the pre-show announcement, audience members are encouraged to respond vocally and not be a “typical” Broadway audience. At the performance I saw, audience members were given fans to snap, and it seems everyone embraced the chance to participate. That said, every lyric, every note was clearly audible over that, and that, my friends, is no small feat.
In a world where being proudly out, queer, and/or trans can be dangerous and representation lacking, “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” defiantly asserts itself and the validity, individualism and joy of personal authenticity. It is art providing a model for all of us to find that in ourselves.
Who knows if this version will last 18 years? Live for today, and don’t miss your chance to revel in this production as these brilliant performers as they strut the catwalk.
Cats: The Jellicle Ball | Broadhurst Theatre | 235 West 44th Street | Tues, Thurs, Fri 7 p.m.; Weds, Sat 2 & 8 p.m.; Sun 3 p.m. | $58-$321 at Telecharge | 2 hours, 30 mins, 1 intermission
