Arts Theatre. Metropolitan Musical Theatre Company. 7 May 2015
You can't beg, borrow or steal tickets for the Met's production of Cats. It booked out way ahead. People just love Cats.
It is true that it has some nice music and it always was an unusual idea. But it is an oddly insubstantial entity and it really has no point. Furthermore, it effectively obscures its cast in makeup and headpieces. Yet the public can't get enough of it. It has always mystified me.
From a production perspective, it is a costly and complicated venture to mount. It requires a huge and very, very fit and talented cast, demanding costumes, six tons of facepaint and a good orchestra.
Lucky for all those faithful pre-bookers, The Met has the experience and resources to bring it together. There have been better productions of Cats but this one is not bad at all. Its strength is in its dancers. It is wonderful to see so many lithe and skilled hoofers.
Oddly, on opening night Ben Saunders' 18-strong orchestra seemed a little uncertain as the overture got going and the first choral numbers seemed too heavily dominated by sopranos. Then it all fell into place. For the rest of the show, the orchestra was a powerful and streamlined force for good. One could feel the musical love coming up from the pit.
The cast is a bit uneven, but director Leonie Osborne knows how to feature the strong players so they draw the eye. The T.S. Elliot characters of Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, on which the show is based, rise each to have their moment, not in the sun since the Jellicle cats meet only on this one night of the year, but beneath the full moon which dangles rather awkwardly over the set.
Among the joy of good dancers, Victoria The White Cat stands out - not only because she is bright white but because Ali Walsh is a long-limbed dancer who is a beauty to behold. Victoria is the special dancing cat of Cats and the Met is lucky to have found such a well-trained and outstanding dancer to embody her.
When it comes to cattiness, Daniel Fleming is unmatched on stage. He is Rum Tum Tugger and not only is his singing and dancing terrific but also he maintains a disdainful aloofness with touches of sly interest which are classic of the confident cat. He is almost too pleased with himself to respond to Bombalurina's affection, albeit he succumbs to a good ear rub.
Selina Britz is another terrific dancer and she does Bombalurina proud.
Grizabella is the famous faded glamour cat who sings Memory. She is meant to be a bit scruffy but director Osborne has allowed her to be more weird than scruffy. If ever there was a wig which belonged in a haunted house, this massive shock of tangle is it. Poor old thing. With a grotesquely lined face and blood red lipstick, Jenny Scarce-Tolley produces a raw rendition of the great song and the house is moved.
Skimbleshanks, the railway cat is outstandingly played by Daniel Salmond, Rumpus well done from Aled Proeve, Bustopher Jones also from Neville Langman, Rumpleteaser and Mr Mistoffelees lovely from Roberta Potamianos, and Josh Barkley is dignified and impressive as Old Deuteronomy. Exceptional with a voice of utter sweetness is Eve McMilan as Jellylorum, a loving comfort to that palsied old prune, Gus the Theatre Cat, pitifully embodied by Barry Hill.
There are others with merit, too many to mention, in this large cast.
It's just a bumper song and dance show with its stirring and toe-tapping Lloyd Webber musical formula and choreographer Carmel Vistoli has done credit to every exhausting bar of it. The stage is a mass of paws, tails, and stubby little ears. The whiskers, not so much so. That cat makeup cries out for more prominent whiskers.
Samela Harris
When: 7 to 16 May
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: bass.net.au
