A euphoric NYC reinvention of a Broadway classic…
Theater review
CATS: THE JELLICLE BALL
2 hours and 25 minutes, with one intermission at the Broadhurst Theatre, 235 W. forty fourth Street.
There’s a loud, pulsing get together occurring every evening in Midtown.
Bodies gyrate in a warehouse as the membership beats nntz nntz. The neon outfits vary from “Let’s Get Physical” to totally architectural while performers battle each other for glory on the runway. On the sidelines, frenzied revelers wave folding followers that blow air around the venue like a cyclone.
And what’s the recent, horny music that’s getting everyone all revved up?
“Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat.”
“Cats: The Jellicle Ball” reimagines Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical in the world of ballroom. Matthew Murphy
More From Johnny Oleksinski
That’s proper — Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Cats,” that outdated jellicle juggernaut, is back on Broadway with a fabulous new glow-up. Smartly retitled “Cats: The Jellicle Ball,” the awfully intelligent show sashayed open Tuesday evening at the Broadhurst Theatre after a profitable run off-Broadway in the summer time of 2024.
What was once a spooky and balletic spectacle of Eighties extra, best identified for the hit track “Memory” and purring chorines crawling on the seats, is now a glitter bomb of euphoric pandemonium. I used to be delighted, and fortunately confirmed unsuitable, to discover it’s even better and more form-fitting uptown. You’ll have the time of your 9 lives.
Good luck naming a musical revival that has ever departed so radically from the unique. In idea, “Jellicle Ball” is about as dangerous as they arrive.
Why? Well, instead of cats, the characters are people.
Sounds ridiculous, I do know. But what is Lloyd Webber’s love-it-or-hate-it “Cats” if not utterly ridiculous?
The recent thought from co-directors Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch works. It just works. The creative pair have achieved a sensible job with their de-meowing.
Emma Sofia is fabulous as an MTA-conductor Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat. Matthew Murphy
T.S. Eliot’s junkyard cats from London — Munkustrap (Dudney Joseph Jr.), Old Deuteronomy (André De Shields) and the remaining — have been reimagined as people in New York. And the jellicle ball held to attain the Heaviside Layer has been morphed into a Harlem ball — a scorching competitors of fashion, angle, dance and “vogueing.”
If you’ve ever watched “RuPaul’s Drag Race” or the documentary “Paris Is Burning,” you get the gist. Various “houses” convene under cowl of evening to specific themselves and duke it out for trophies.
You see? That is the same plot, such as it’s, of “Cats.”
New York’s ballroom tradition has a wealthy historical past value studying, but “The Jellicle Ball” is right here not to edutain, but relatively entertain. And how.
Sydney James Harcourt is the forged standout as the Rum Tum Tugger. Matthew Murphy
The bash, in which choreographers Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons swap pirouettes and grand jetés for strip teases and death drops, is kicked off by DJ Griddlebone (Ken Ard, the unique Macavity), who whips out a “Cats” Broadway forged recording LP to cheers from the group.
But the music isn’t actually piped in. There is a live orchestra hidden from view, and every word of the rating is performed and every lyric is sung. Some are campily remixed a bit, such as “The Ethel Merman Disco Album.” What you’re in the end listening to, though, is 100% “Cats.”
André De Shields’ Old Deuteronomy oversees the motion. Matthew Murphy
De Shields’ grand Old Deuteronomy enters just like the pope in Vatican City to oversee the motion — a royal procession that must be seen to be believed — and rotating superstar company decide the head-to-heads in numerous cat-egories.
For occasion, Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat will get “Old Way vs. New Way.” So, the vivacious Emma Sofia is a saucy MTA conductor.
For “Tag Team,” twin kitties Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer (the marvelous Jonathan Burke and Dava Huesca), who are often portrayed as cockney burglars, use harsh and zany New Yawk accents.
The jellicles compete in different cat-tegories to win trophies. Matthew Murphy
The show’s dynamo standout, Sydney James Harcourt as the Rum Tum Tugger, is given “Realness.” Ripping his shirt off at every alternative, the actor with a luxurious voice and rockstar’s command of the stage turns the frisky feline from a jokey Jagger into a smoldering Usher.
Sometimes, the singing and spirited motion, which occur all over the Broadhurst, have Broadway polish. Elsewhere, it’s scrappier than at 3 a.m. at Pieces in Greenwich Village. That distinction, along with mixing conventional musical theater with less-stuffy ballroom, offers the show its beating coronary heart and eclectic character.
“Tempress” Chasity Moore belts out “Memory” as Grizabella. Matthew Murphy
Two actors lend specific authenticity to the up to date setting: Junior LaBeija as Gus the Theater Cat and “Tempress” Chasity Moore as poor, ostracized Grizabella.
Sixty-eight-year-old LaBeija, just about the best Gus I’ve ever seen, appeared in “Paris Is Burning” in 1990 and thus provides a natural authority and pathos to the growing old, whiskered thespian.
LaBeija is profoundly transferring without attempting to be and will get big laughs by merely lifting an eyebrow.
Junior LaBeija has straightforward pathos as Gus the Theater Cat. Matthew Murphy
And Moore performs the “Memory” songstress who’s been kicked out of the membership but is deep down the most deserving of the pack.
Like LaBeija, her emotion is earned and radiates effortlessly. The notes? Somewhat less so. While Moore sounds a lot better than she did off-Broadway, it’s still not your typical Broadway “Memory.” But nothing about this “Cats” is typical. That’s what’s particular about it.
Without fail, the best Broadway exhibits are the off-the-charts creative ones that couldn’t have probably originated wherever else but the 5 boroughs. This season, that’s “The Jellicle Ball.”
Only in New York, kittens. Only in New York.
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