Behind a table edged in flowing gold fringe stands the legendary Broadway actor André De Shields. He holds up a small, cat-shaped sign that simply says “Meow.”
It’s the first thing I see upon entering a rehearsal for Cats: The Jellicle Ball at New 42 Studios—the company’s last in that space before they move into their Broadway home. (Previews begin March 18 at the Broadhurst Theatre.) After a wildly successful run downtown, at the Perelman Performing Arts Center (PAC), this singular reimagining of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s classic megamusical—rooted now in Harlem’s ballroom culture—Cats has found a new life.
Rows of people take their seats in front of the makeshift stage, its long runway evoking those of balls past and present. Trophies, topped with little gold cats, line the back of the stage, ready to be snatched by the show’s cast of characters. Times Square advertisements flicker behind the studio’s glass windows.
Nora Schell, the show’s Bustopher Jones, warms up their voice to the plink of a piano. Baby Byrne, who plays Victoria, stretches a leg into her face before zipping into a pair of shiny, knee-high heeled boots. Primo Thee Ballerino—our Tumblebrutus—rolls out his back, wearing boots with tiny, cat-like claws affixed. Silk, playing a Magical Mister Mistoffelees with legs for decades, twists their limbs into the sky. Xavier Reyes, as Jennyanydots, twirls in a leopard- and tiger-printed coat, straps gold heels with cigarette bows to his feet, and saunters away. On the sidelines, meanwhile, sits the ballroom icon Junior LaBeija, this production’s Gus the Theatre Cat.
What follows is a performance so immersive, invigorating, and infectiously joyful I forget how long I’ve been sitting there. (The show’s runtime is two hours and 45 minutes, including an intermission, but it doesn’t feel like it.) Shouts of “Yes, henny!” erupt from the audience, as well as the odd “Pump, mama, pump!” from fellow performers as each ball category is revealed and each character introduced through song.
As in the PAC production, influences from gospel to house music, voguing to ballet to jazz abound (courtesy of co-choreographers Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons) as we follow the story of these cats at their ball, where the ultimate prize is being reborn. Ballroom icon and “Wonder Woman of Vogue” Leiomy tickles us with her mischievous Macavity. Sydney James Harcourt, as Rum Tum Tugger, becomes our resident heartthrob. I get goosebumps as Tempress Chasity Moore, playing Grizabella, sings “Memory.” I’d never understood that song, it seems, until now.
For a while, it seemed the original incarnation of Cats—which continues to be performed around the world—had become something of a cliché, a show high school drama teachers begged their students to avoid for audition songs. (The instantly memefied film adaptation from 2019 didn’t help.) But now, with The Jellicle Ball, I wonder if this is perhaps the version of the show that should have existed from the start. In this iteration, the cats live in a world with stakes that exist beyond the merely fantastical.
See more from rehearsals for Cats: The Jellicle Ball—opening on Broadway this April—below.
