By BRUCE DENNILL
Cats / Resident director: Duane Alexander / Teatro, Montecasino, Fourways, Johannesburg
TS Eliot wrote Old Possum’s Book Of Practical Cats in the 1930s, presumably for a lark, and the decision to use the collection’s fluffy poems as the basis for a full-length stage show – never mind a musical – will always feel like an unlikely one. Once that decision was made and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Trevor Nunn-directed production was launched in 1981, Cats became one of musical theatre’s biggest success stories – and that still feels weird, as the story remains a fever dream set in a gargantuan back alley, with different characters introducing themselves in song and dance, assisted by the ever-present ensemble, as they collectively go through a ritual in which, ultimately, one of them will be chosen to be reborn into a new life.
Whatever your level of cynicism, however, it’s very difficult to argue that what plays out on stage doesn’t work, and there are a few reasons for that. First and foremost, the entire cast is wholly committed, maintaining constant feline behaviour and svelte movement patterns on top of whatever other acting, choreography and character work is required for their specific roles. This requires a level of focus and dedication to a deeply strange standard that is made to look completely credible, if not normal.
All of the action takes place in a massive, detailed set, originally by John Napier, designed to make the full-sized human actors relate to their surroundings in the same way cats would a space filled with junk – everything from balls of yarn to parts of old cars and an enormous tractor tyre. That and lighting designed to highlight the various solo moments, underline the character of the various protagonists (flashing red for the nefarious Macavity, for instance) and make the more psychedelic passages positively hallucinogenic.
There is, of course, the music, with the iron-clad Lloyd Webber classic Memory an obvious high point. What is easy to forget if you’ve seen the show before is how appealing and evocative many of the other pieces are, from the catchiness of the opening Jellicle Songs For Jellicle Cats to the moving instrumental refrain at the centre of Old Deutoronomy, the eccentric storytelling of Gus The Theatre Cat and the multi-layered production of Magical Mister Mistoffelees.
This production’s cast provides, almost without exception, more or less flawless performances. It is a musical in which soloists are given prominence, though, and some performers stand out even in the general excellence. Cindy-Ann Abrahams as Grizabella acts and sings with palpable heart before she takes centre stage for Memory, and then writes herself into the permanent lore of the show by singing the song with such transcendent brilliance that it feels possible to imagine everyone from Elaine Paige to Barbra Streisand applauding from the wings. King B gives Old Deuteronomy gravitas and authority; Che-Jean Jupp has powerful presence as Munkustrap and Noa Duckitt is a notable vocalist as well as making Jellylorum a sweetly caring companion to the elderly Gus. Dylan Janse Van Rensburg is deliriously, hilariously charismatic as Rum Tug Tugger, Cassiel Eatock-Winnik is a standout dancer and Zoe McLaughlin’s Jennyanydots is cheerful and engaging. Logan Timbre is precise and appealing as Skimbleshanks and Tshepo Ncokoane, playing both Bustopher Jones and Gus the Theatre Cat, gives both – particularly Gus – genuine character depth through both song and physical tics and movements.
There are still, as in any production of Cats, moments when the narrative thread meanders somewhat too much (for instance, even by the what-the-hell standards of the show as a whole, The Awefull Battle Of The Pekes And The Pollicles is distractingly bonkers. Even there, though, everyone and everything, down to the scene-specific costumes, underlines the whole-hearted commitment to the musical’s idiosyncracies that make everything work overall and which, in the hands of this company, are delivered at a particularly elevated standard.