Let’s Talk About Cats the Movie

Reviews for the film adaptation of the long-running West End and Broadway musical Cats have been brutal, even blistering. From the creepiness of the CGI effects to the ridiculously choppy editing and camera work that detracted from the choreography, Cats on the big screen has proven to be... well... a “cat” astrophe, bringing-in well under its projected box office receipts during its premiere weekend. Sure, the film was up against one of the year’s most eagerly anticipated films The Rise of Skywalker, but Cats failed on its own terms, and the force just wasn’t with it. That is not to say that there aren’t some things it got right. A few of them splendidly so.  

Let’s begin by admitting that the stage version of Cats was never strong on plot. Composer Andrew Lloyd Webber took T.S. Eliot’s beloved book of poetry Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, a series of poems about clever and colorful felines, and transformed it into a piece where these animals come together to share their individual stories, vying for their chance to be selected as the kitty that will ascend to the “Heaviside Layer” (think cat heaven) and return in their next life. In many ways, Cats onstage played like a musical revue, with the thinnest strand of story serving as connective tissue. The original production was more about the spectacle, dancing, the music, and unique perspective that came from looking at the world through the eyes of felines known as “Jellicles.” 

For the film, authors of the screenplay Lee Hall and Tom Hooper actually solved some of the challenges of the script and lack of story arc by creating the character of “Victoria” (Francesca Hayward) a cat that has been abandoned in the junkyard where the Jellicles congregate. By introducing a new cat into the mix, we have a reason for the likes of Jennyanydots, Bustopher Jones, Skimbleshanks, Mr. Mistoffelees, and Grizabella to share their stories. Victoria learns about each of these inhabitants of her new home and gets caught-up in the event of the Jellicle Ball where Old Deuteronomy will make the ultimate decision of which cat deserves a new life. No, this doesn’t impose a deeper meaning on the piece or elevate Cats to great storytelling, but the journey now feels justified. Not as easy to swallow is a subplot regarding the yellow-eyed villain Macavity (Idris Elba) who, in order to improve his chances of being Old Deuteronomy’s choice, begins kidnapping the Jellicles one-by-one, removing them from the equation. It is an unnecessary way to create an antagonist for a show that doesn’t have enough plot to sustain one. 

The performances in the film are all over the place, ranging from brilliant to ambling. The most arresting is Sir Ian McKellen as Gus the Theatre Cat, giving a thoughtfully understated turn delivering a monologue about the state of contemporary theatre, one that almost seems to be predicting musicals like Cats that are long on spectacle and short on substance. It is always a pleasure to watch McKellen work, wrapping careful consideration around each word uttered, reminding us of the beauty of Eliot’s poetry. Equally at ease with the language is Dame Judi Dench as Old Deuteronomy, the wizened cat who seems to be in charge of the Jellicle clowder. Though one cannot help but shake images of Bert Lahr’s Cowardly Lion in Salvation Army acquired drag, Dench gives a mystical quality to the character, almost like a kindly grandmother reading a bedtime story to her grandchild. It’s just the right tone, reassuring and calm, offering a gravitas that holds the film together. From there, the director (also Tom Hooper) seems to have less faith in the performers at his disposal, as well as in the film’s audience, choosing to have the actors act out every lyric literally, as if the filmgoers won’t listen. Comedic performers such as Rebel Wilson and James Corden, usually quite hilarious when given some room to breathe, appear trapped in a mechanical physical comedy machine, as if marionettes rather than actors. Jennifer Hudson, as the faded glamor cat Grizabella, limps around in pain in the pooled light of a streetlamp, eventually singing the musical’s most-recognized number “Memory.” Hudson has a powerful voice and commits to the song’s heartbreaking intensity, but this arrangement feels like an uncomfortable match fToor her always rafter-shaking, confident voice. Hooper, who seems to enjoy taking the camera into performer’s nostrils for a moment of bubbling emotional snot (remember Anne Hathaway in Les Miserables) does the same here with Hudson, making the final moments of “Memory” an uncomfortable, gooey mess. The number “Mr. Mistoffelees”, usually a showstopper, is slowed-down to less-exciting pace, and the actor playing this kitty magician (Laurie Davidson) is saddled with what now plays as an empty, unneeded lump in the late part of the musical’s second act. 

Regardless of its detractions, I found myself occasionally enjoying the film version of Cats. Setting aside some pretty awful visual effects for creating the illusion of fur, much of the physical production was a visual treat. Hooper opens up the film to keep the locale from being limited to a junkyard, extending the action into a derelict ballroom, an alleyway, a railroad track, and Trafalgar Square. The new song “Beautiful Ghosts” may feel a bit out of place with the rest of the score, but it does have a haunting effect in the context of the story. Andy Blankenbuehler’s choreography is energetic, occasionally clever, but one wishes the film’s frantic editing choices didn’t inhibit our actually seeing more of it. 

I am not sure what audiences and critics were expecting from a film adaptation of Cats. Personally, I always thought it was a bad idea and went into the movie theatre ready to leave with a bagful of snarky opinions to wield. Perhaps it was my low expectations that allowed me to enjoy it more than I thought I would. It is certainly not as awful as many are saying, nor is it a masterpiece. Considering what it could have been, Cats as a movie can be enjoyed if you are willing to set aside such things as pre-conceived notions and impossible expectations, you might find yourself smiling here and there, recalling that the stage show that inspired it wasn’t exactly high art.