'Cats' comes to Grand Rapids Civic Theatre's stage

"That corpse you planted last year in your garden,

Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?

Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,

Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!"

- T. S. Eliot, "The Waste Land"

"Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark!"

- "The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles," Cats

In 2023, Emily Rutherford wrote that "film to stage adaptations and jukebox musicals have theatre in a chokehold.” She’s right.

The financial risks of launching productions has led investors to seek out “pre-existing properties,” not that it always pays off. Meanwhile, originality has gotten tougher to find.

Given those realities, why not celebrate "Cats?" One of the most popular musicals of all time, it’s earned over $3.6 billion worldwide. It’s also one of the most bizarre. Who could have expected a virtually story-free adaptation of T. S. Eliot poems performed by people dressed like cats to conquer the world? But somehow, it did.

Forty-three years after its debut, "Cats" is Grand Rapids Civic Theatre’s holiday show. It’s onstage through Dec. 15, providing the audience plenty of opportunities to be reminded just how strange the show is. Although some might not need the reminder. On the night I attended, several adults wore headbands crowned with cat ears.

The stage promises both glamour and seediness, serving up the moon and stars above an alley. An overture begins promisingly. Scott Patrick Bell, music director, deserves credit for the orchestra’s tight performance throughout the evening. It’s followed by the prologue, “Jellicle Songs For Jellicle Cats.” The number allows the audience to take in the fine costumes and feline dancing of dozens of cats, which is good. It goes on at nearly purgatorial length, however, and crams the word “jellicle” in at every opportunity.

That might sound like the verdict of someone allergic to "Cats." And to a degree it is. But I’d taken my Zyrtec and brought along two of my many daughters--Gemma (11) and Heidi (8)--and I was determined to stay open to its charms. And the charms aren’t insignificant, thanks in part to the varied cast of characters and the actors inhabiting them. 

In “The Rum Tum Tugger,” the titular cat (Robbie Ellis) struts with rock star confidence, moving his fans like puppets with each thrust of his hip. These are salad days for him, but not for Grizabella (Mary Kate Murnen), whose happiness has faded with her beauty. And we have Mungojerrie (Josh Hamilton) and Rumpleteazer (the terrific Mikki Robinson). And who could forget rotund Bustopher Jones (David Kaijala, whose costume might have been the best of the night) or aging thespian Gus (Doug Everse)?

Watching as each cat steps or vamps or taps into the spotlight, the shape of the show becomes clear. It’s less a story than a musical revue, a vehicle for strong character work, marvelous dancing and “Memory.” I first encountered the song some 30 years ago on a Barbra Streisand CD my mother owned and I’ve been powerless against it ever since. Murnen’s performance, yearning, beautiful and stunning, made the song new for me again. It’s worth the price of admission by itself. 

All in all, the show moved briskly along--perhaps due to a little judicious cutting (my wife asked me if “the orgy scene” made it in. Unless I blinked, it didn’t). The music, drawing on multiple genres, has energy to spare and the dancing rarely fails to entertain.

Who is "Cats" for, in the end? My eight-year-old, Heidi, loved the dancing. She especially loved Rumpleteazer (me, too). But Heidi’s energy flagged a little by the end, unlike that of Gemma, my strangest child. “I have a new favorite musical,” she told me afterward. Good.