CATS - Review

London Palladium, London

*****

Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber

Based on 'Old Possum's Book Of Practical Cats by T.S.Eliot

Directed by Trevor Nunn

Kerry Ellis

Back in 1981 CATS re-wrote the rule book of musical theatre. Not just for being the first show immediately recognisable by an image that was to become an iconic brand (those flaming cats eyes with their dancers for pupils - shrewd work, producer Cameron Mackintosh), but for being one of the first through-danced musicals, a concept never before tackled in England. CATS' plot (if there is one) is implausible. Rather, it took the genius vision of a young Lloyd Webber to set this quirky anthology of Eliot verse to music. The rest is theatre history as the show went on to smash box-office records on both sides of the Atlantic.

That CATS in 2015 works at all is down to the show's (now pensioner) creatives and an exceptional cast. Disbelief is quickly suspended and in a production that eschews masks and puppets, the feline transformation is achieved solely through the human skills of the companys' voices, movement and facial expression. At all times the audience can see that these are just people, albeit gloriously costumed and made up, but people nonetheless who with catlike tread and stunning choreography achieve a fabulous illusion. 

Eliot's words are marvellously crafted. They truly don't write 'em like that anymore and his 1930's gems are just steeped in Bloomsbury and a time when trains had First and Third Class carriages, a magical glimpse into an England past. No other writer other than perhaps Matilda's Tim Minchin displays the maverick and eccentric yet profoundly perceptive wit that Eliot masters. Andrew Lloyd Webber's score, played under the experienced baton of Anthony Gabriele and ranging from the haunting minor key harmonics of the Jellicles’ motif, through to the torch-song triumph that is Memory, has evolved into a modern classic.

Legendary choreographer Gillian Lynne neatly re-works her original routines to accommodate the Palladium’s traditional proscenium setting, with modern day dance maestro Bill Deamer adding his talent to staging the coolly jazz-themed Gumbie Cat tap number. John Napier's design has similarly been tailored yet still remains a fairytale setting (beautifully lit) of over-sized trash. (The eagle eyed in the audience will spot that the bashed up car’s number plate has been updated to NAP 70, Napier’s age when the show re-opened last year.)

But CATS, then and forever, has always been about the actors. As well as some fresh young talent, many feline-hardened veterans from the show’s various former and touring productions have been press ganged into service at the Palladium. Excellence is everywhere, but particularly memorable amongst the cattery are Benjamin Yates’ Mungojerrie, who delivers impossible athleticism with an almost Russell Brand styled insouciance whilst Joseph Poulton’s Mistoffeles and Ross Finnie’s Skimbleshanks are both visual delights. (That junk-yard train gets me every time.) A nod too to Callum Train’s Munkustrap who virtually MC’s the show with a breathtaking agility and of course few West End musicals are complete these days without a Strallen. Zizi’s Demeter duly and demurely delivers.

It is however Kerry Ellis’ name that tops the bill at the London Palladium and with good reason. Her poise as faded galmour-puss Grizabella is as poignant as it is perfect. Where the rest of the cast are shod in dance shoes Ellis, fur all mangy, is forced to totter around the stage in impossibly tawdry heels, defining Grizabella's tragedy in poise and presence. And then she sings.

On its own, Memory is one of Lloyd Webber’s biggest selling singles and much like Grizabella herself, it’s a tart of a song that everyone over the last thirty years as had a piece of. The audience knows it, loves it and their expectations as Ellis, along with Natasha Mould’s Jemima tackles the opening bars, are sky high. Ellis doesn’t just meet those expectations however – she smashes them. And as her Grizabella desperately pleads for affection with the shockingly simple words “Touch me”, this queen of London’s musical theatre quite simply takes the Palladium’s roof off. The moment is electrifying and unforgettable. It has been far too long since the West End was last treated to an 11 o’clock number of such jaw-dropping magnificence.

There is no more to add. As world class musical theatre CATS, with Kerry Ellis, is un-missable.

Now booking until 25th April 2015

Dear World

Charing Cross Theatre, London

***

Book by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee

Music and lyrics by Jerry Herman

Directed and choreographed by Gillian Lynne

Betty Buckley and Paul Nicholas

Dear World is a whimsical piece of musical theatre from Jerry Herman. Inspired by the novel The Madwoman Of Chaillot and set in post WW2 Paris, it speaks of a wish to heal a world that is literally held “dear”. Much has been made of the show's chequered Broadway life and even in her programme notes director/choreographer Gillian Lynne apologises for its troubled history. In part, Lynne suggests, this is due to the show having come up against Hair when it premiered in the 1960's. Lynne's protestations are a little misplaced, as the work is far from being the composer’s finest.

Revolving around a wonderfully frivolous old lady, the Countess Aurelia, the story tells how she, in league with an as whimsically wise Sewerman,  hoodwink a trio of evil financiers, keen to lay waste to Paris in pursuit of oilfields that they have been duped into believing lie beneath the city's boulevards. Of course, good triumphs over bad in a tale that bears more than a passing nod to P L Travers’ Mary Poppins. For a magical nanny, read the Countess, the cheerful grimy sweep replaced by the filthy Sewerman and the bankers of course playing themselves. While the parallels between the two stories may be clear that is where any similarity ends, for in a songwriting contest between Herman and Shermans, Disney’s lyrical brothers win hands down.

This slight production however is redeemed by its performances. Betty Buckley is a wonderfully contrived Countess, a lady who refuses to look into the mirror in her hall, because she doesn’t like to see the old lady who lives behind the glass.  Buckley is a talented treat to watch throughout and her act two number And I Was Beautiful still marks her as a true diva. Paul Nicholas imbues the Sewerman with an ironic wisdom akin to Hamlet’s gravediggers. No airs and graces, just wry observations from a man who having seen all of the city’s garbage, knows the true realities behind the grand and the not-so-grand Parisian lives.

Notable in support are Rebecca Lock and Annabel Leveton, playing respectively a young virginal girl and an elderly but still libidinous lady, both delightfully dotty consorts of the Countess, who when the plot becomes almost too thin to discern, allow their caricatures to provide gently humoured relief. Stuart Matthew Price and Katy Treharne bring youthful vocal excellence to the show in a love interest between their two minor characters, of little relevance to the plot other than suggesting the world's promising future.

Whilst the show’s structure is dated, its heart still speaks loudly. One only has to read today of corporate fraud tainting our food chain with horsemeat, to know that some aspects of big business remain exploitative and ugly. The scenario that this fable presents of a humble Sewerman, one who deals with daily detritus, being wiser than the bankers’ besuited buffoons whom the Countess ultimately invites to descend to their grisly doom, speaks to us much as a fairy tale of wishes. Dear World is a cri de coeur to mend this fractured planet and whilst its arguments may be simplistic and a little far fetched, if one can suspend cynicism as well as disbelief then the performances on stage will capture the simple light-hearted and frothy elegance of a show not often seen.

Runs until March 30th 2013