Not just about cats
Believe the hype.
Has there ever been a more devastating read than Roy Cohn’s summation of Cats in Angels in America? “It’s about cats.” Well, probably. The line echoes Andrew Lloyd Webber’s explanation to Harold Prince (“Hal, this is just about cats”), and he probably didn’t intend for that to be a dismissal. Still, the Tony Kushner quote has long been my association with the musical, a reminder to never try to find any real meaning in the show. It’s just not that deep.
Generally speaking, this is helpful guidance when seeing Cats. You can focus on the dancing. You can focus on the silly names (T.S. Eliot kind of snapped with Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer). You can focus on whichever beltress has been tasked with singing “Memory.” For me, the notorious 2019 film adaptation—a movie which you can’t prove did not cause the pandemic—was really the turning point on Cats. It was so stupid and ugly that I was forced to imprint on it. It made me feel certain that the best this show can be is a glorious mess, and truthfully, there are few things I love more.
Then I saw Cats: The Jellicle Ball, and something shifted. Cats was suddenly… good. Urgent, alive, imbued with a profundity I could never have expected. The high-concept approach was not gimmicky but essential. And all memories of Ian McKellen lapping up milk, the infamous “Butthole Cut,” and James Corden were instantly wiped from my mind. It took over 40 years, but this is the way Cats was always meant to be seen.
Co-directed by Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch, PAC NYC’s production of the ALW musical moves the story from London alleyways to a New York drag ball, with the titular felines voguing their way down the runway as they vie for 10’s across the board (and a trip to the Heaviside Layer). It’s such a seamless adaptation that it makes you wonder why no one had thought of it before. Of course, it’s quite possible that others had, when you consider the unfortunate reality that mainstream theater has generally been more welcoming to anthropomorphized cats than to Black and brown queer people.
Cats: The Jellicle Ball doesn’t merely feature queer people; it overwhelms the audience with queer joy, something that few shows even tap into. The vibes are impeccable, and the crowd responds accordingly. Theatergoers encouraged to be reactive still tend to hold back, and you can feel a bit of that hesitation as the production ramps up. By the second act, though, the audience is punctuating their cheers with clacking fans and leaping to their feet after a perfectly executed death drop. The Jellicle Ball has an inescapable pull, and letting yourself fall into it is pure theatrical bliss.
But the queer joy of the production isn’t what surprised me—it’s the way this Cats is suddenly about something. By giving a silly show a very real cultural context, the adapters have created something profoundly moving.
After a series of projections introducing the audience to the Founding House Mothers, we meet Gus the Theatre Cat. He’s played by Junior LaBeija, a member of the House of LaBeija for over 50 years. Suddenly his song is imbued with history—real history, not cat history—and the respect and reverence from the younger performers feel earned. I think there are plenty of reasons to appreciate Cats when it’s just about cats, but it’s hard to argue that it doesn’t hit harder when it has meaning.
The casting across the board—which includes performers of all genders, many of whom have a background in ballroom—speaks to the authenticity that makes this Cats such an achievement. You could say the same for the choreography by Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons, who also come from the scene, and who say in their program note, “We accepted the opportunity to choreograph this reimagination of Cats to center Ballroom culture.” This attention to detail and care sets a new standard for high-concept productions—and yes, for Cats itself.
For those of us who do appreciate trash, rest assured that there’s room for all interpretations of the material, even if The Jellicle Ball has instantly established itself as the best one. We still have Rebel Wilson’s Jennyanydots, and no one can take that away from us. But don’t miss your opportunity to see a fabulous, stirring, and completely transformative production of one of the most successful musicals of all time—and maybe keep your fingers crossed for a “now and forever” Broadway transfer.
Cats: The Jellicle Ball runs through August 11 at PAC NYC. Buy tickets here.