Cats (Theatre Royal) ★★★½

Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Based on ‘Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats’ by T.S. Elliot. Additional lyrics by Trevor Nunn & Richard Stilgoe. Theatre Royal, Sydney. 17 Jun – 6 Sep, 2025.

Grab your leg warmers, Sydney, and escape the cold outside – Cats is back for its 40th Australian anniversary in its original Aussie home, the Theatre Royal. And for those of you in the theatrical nerdisphere – no, I don’t mean Cats: The Jellicle Ball, the New York ballroom scene reinvention that wowed audiences last year and is about to be restaged there. I mean Cats. Good ol’ middle-aged Cats.

This is where I usually write a plot summary. Hahahaha – moving on…

Cats is… well, Cats. It may be hard to picture it as the revolutionary musical theatre phenomenon it was back in the eighties, but it was huge. Like Hamilton huge. Looking back, that might seem inexplicable (or ineffable, maybe?), and it’s easy to lean into contemporary cynicism – but the fact remains: Cats changed the face of theatre. From the up-to-date-for-the-80s choreography, immersive set design, and skin-tight costumes to the iconic marketing campaign… Cats was to theatre what Jaws was to cinema – the birth of the blockbuster.

I remember seeing Cats back in 1985 when I was (checks calendar) -20 years old, and being totally mesmerised by it. It was my first proper, big theatre experience and, as a wide-eyed kid, I was completely hooked. My mind was blown by the idea that they allowed the audience on stage during the interval to talk to John Wood as Old Deuteronomy, who was gracious and charming with the kids around him. (I assume they’re still doing that – Mark Vincent stayed on stage on opening night, but I didn’t see any of the glitterati go up there.)

If you don’t know Cats (or only know it by reputation), there’s one thing you must understand before walking in: this is not a musical, at least not in the traditional sense. Personally, I see Cats as primarily a kids’ show. Secondly, it’s a dance show. Gillian Lynne’s choreography is iconic. It’s essentially plotless – but not in a “character-hang-out-vibe” way; more in a “we’re stuck in a perpetual first act as more and more characters are introduced” way. Which is totally fine. I’m a fan of Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins, and structurally it’s not that different – it just carries an air of literary respectability because it’s Sondheim.

The storytelling is confined to each song – colourful vignettes of feline life – with some thin overarching strands: the Jellicle Ball (something akin to a suicide cult where the best singer gets to die with the promise of reincarnation – let’s not think too hard about that, though it would definitely make me tune into another season of The Voice), and the threat of Macavity, the Mystery Cat, a cat burglar who strikes fear into the hearts of the others for… reasons.

And these tunes are catchy AF. Let’s put the power ballad ‘Memory’ to one side for now, but you’ll find yourself humming ‘Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat’ (Tom Davis almost steals the show with that one) or ‘Mr. Mistoffelees’ (Alex Alvares does steal the show with that one) all the way to the light rail. This may not be Lloyd Webber’s best score, but it shows him at his ear-worm-writing pinnacle. If later shows like Stephen Ward, Love Never Dies, or Bad Cinderella had a tenth of these melodies, we’d remember them much more fondly.

Other standouts among the expansively talented ensemble include Mia Dabkowski-Chandler as Bombalurina and Olivia Carniato as Demeter, who bring “Macavity” to life; and Jarrod Draper as Munkustrap, who holds the whole thing together. Lucy Maunder, as always, delivers, and makes you wish there was more for her to do. In general, if you could bottle the sheer commit-to-the-bit energy of this whole cast, you could power Sydney for a year.

Due to the show’s episodic nature, it can be an uneven experience. For every standout number, there’s a less convincing one. This production’s biggest letdown comes in its most anticipated number – ‘Memory’. I won’t elaborate too much, but I’ve seen more emotional, characterful performances in late-night basements or on boozy ships. There’s a world of difference between belting a note and really interpreting & performing a song.

Cats is such a pop-cultural phenomenon that it’s almost review-proof. You don’t come to Cats to see a musical or a story – you come to see Cats. The furry leg warmers, the Jazzercise choreography, the anachronistic poems – all of it. Everything that seems a bit tacky today was astonishingly fresh in the 80s. And that success has left the show frozen in amber for the past 40 years. It’s crying out for new orchestrations (the synths were cute then, less so now), new choreography (maybe even using some of Andy Blankenbuehler’s from the film), and a whole new vision – which is happening. In New York. Not here. It’s 2024s Sunset Boulevard all over again…

For me, seeing Cats return was a welcome trip down memory lane and a chance to relive a turning point in musical theatre history. But then, I’m a nerd – this is the kind of thing I really love. It’s easy to scoff at Cats, but hard to deny its place in the MT pantheon. Do yourself a favour: take some kids along and enjoy the magic through their eyes. We could all do with being a bit less cynical – and a bit more Cats.