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New York Post
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Post
‘A Chorus Line' turns 50 — and Broadway is desperate for another hit musical like it
Watching a new Broadway musical early on, you can always tell when one is going to be really big. The standing ovation is physically involuntary — not out of politeness or a ploy to be first in line to the bathroom. The departing audience's euphoric buzz drowns out the din in Times Square — where the air suddenly smells sweet. And your last thought as you leave the theater is the first word of one of the greatest really big musicals of all time: 'Again.' 5 'A Chorus Line' opened 50 years ago on Broadway. Kevin Mazur That's 'A Chorus Line,' Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban's heart-stopper of a show about the inner lives of dancers that had its first performance on Broadway 50 years ago on Friday. The supremely inventive piece — conceived, directed and choreographed by the genius Michael Bennett — revitalized Broadway and New York City in the 1970s with electricity, humanity and modernity during a fallow period. 'A Chorus Line' became a giant unlikely hit and gave us the songs 'What I Did For Love,' 'The Music and the Mirror' and 'One.' Its unitard-clad actors step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touched at the Shubert Theater for 15 years. From the start, everybody knew it was the 'One.' Post theater critic Martin Gottfried reviewed the experimental musical in its first risky days downtown at the Public Theater, well before the non-profit venue got a reputation as an incubator of Broadway musicals. By curtain, he realized he'd just experienced a singular sensation. 5 Donna McKechnie starred in the original production of 'A Chorus Line' on Broadway. Martha Swope/New York Public Library 5 Innovative 'A Chorus Line' tells the story of struggling Broadway dancers trying to get a gig. New York Post 'As 'A Chorus Line' launched into its finale on opening night at the Newman Theater, the audience rose and cheered,' Gottfried wrote. 'Its applause continued throughout the number. I can't recall that happening ever before.' Goosebumps. And a historic moment worth celebrating. For me, however, the mood of 'A Chorus Line''s half-century fete is bittersweet. Because the last time I walked out of a new Broadway musical feeling the thrill of having just watched a really big hit was a decade ago. Not since exiting the doors of Lin-Manuel Miranda's 'Hamilton,' which will party for its own 10th anniversary on August 6th. 5 'Hamilton,' which opened 10 years ago, was Broadway's last truly major hit. AP There have been wonderful, profitable shows post-'Ham,' of course, such as 'Dear Evan Hansen' and 'Come From Away.' But not the sort of musicals your cousin Ann in Oshkosh texts you nonstop for tickets to. Beg, borrow, steal shows. 'Maybe we could sell our French Bulldog' shows. Those flagships' absence is glaring and alarming. During the 40 years from 'A Chorus Line' to 'Hamilton,' Broadway enjoyed a huge smash that got a ton of national press attention just about every five years, more or less. Some of those titans: 'Annie,' 'Evita,' 'Cats,' 'Les Miserables,' 'The Phantom of the Opera,' 'Rent,' 'The Lion King,' 'The Producers,' 'Wicked' and 'The Book of Mormon.' That all-important well has dried up. I was wrecked by 'The Outsiders' last year, but it's not in the major league. I still find myself explaining to casual theater fans what last season's deserving Best Musical Tony Award winner 'Maybe Happy Ending' is. 5 Smaller 'Maybe Happy Ending' was this year's Best Musical Tony Award winner. Getty Images for Tony Awards Productions Solving the problem of the big-hit rut is tricky. Because, like a person whose life has spiraled out of control after a small mistake, the causes have exploded beyond an easy fix. Broadway's 18-month Covid closure forever changed audience habits. Then, costs rose astronomically and investors grew skittish. Movie studios became too involved, and plopped Saltine songs on Hollywood IP. Original musicals turned tiny and niche. I'm also convinced that the current class of producers has terrible taste and minimal skill. It rots from the head. True, the past season came close to 2019 sales numbers. But that was thanks to lousy plays starring celebrities with disgusting ticket prices, a few new musicals performing admirably and Cole Escola's comedy 'Oh, Mary!'. But A-List interventions and a bunch of quirky musicals flopping after a year will not save Broadway in the long run. It's the only-in-New-York, must-see, can't-get-in musical that is Broadway's lifeblood. The ones that, pardon the cliche, raise all boats. The ones that become tentpoles of American culture. The a-five-six-seven-eights. And, despite the odds, I'm holding out for another. I'll take the optimistic advice of 50-year-old 'A Chorus Line.' Kiss today goodbye, and point me toward tomorrow.
Time Out
19-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Celebrate 50 years of A Chorus Line with Annette Bening, Ariana DeBose and more
Several singular sensations have now been announced to be part of the upcoming one-night-only benefit concert celebrating 50 years of A Chorus Line. Sunday, July 27 will see the landmark musical return to its Broadway home, the Shubert Theater, to raise money for the Entertainment Community Fund, exactly five decades (and two days) after it opened in 1975. The Fund's Board Chair Annette Bening, season highlights Jennifer Simard (Death Becomes Her) and Mandy Gonzalez (Sunset Boulevard), and Gilmore Girls ' Lauren Graham are among the latest names to have just joined the lineup, along with triple-threat talents Ariana DeBose and Bebe Neuwirth. Whether those last two will get the chance to show off their award-winning dancing chops remains to be seen, as their involvement—and most details surrounding the concert—has not been specified. The glitzy event will be directed by Baayork Lee, an original cast member from the Pulitzer winner's off-Broadway debut at the Public Theater a few months before its instant success skyrocketed it uptown. Lee has overseen virtually every major production since, preserving Michael Bennett's original vision, and his and Bob Avian's choreography. She'll replicate their work here as well. Its storied history has allowed several major talents to share its story, many of whom will also participate in the concert, including Donna McKechnie and Kelly Bishop—who won acting Tonys for their work in the original production—and their former castmates Priscilla Lopez, Wayne Cilento and Lee. They'll share the stage with alumni from other productions, an embarrassment of riches that includes Tony Yazbeck, Charlotte d'Amboise, Krysta Rodriguez, Jessica Vosk and 2025 Tony winner Francis Jue (Yellow Face).Tickets to this special evening at the Shubert (which is currently occupied by Hell's Kitchen) are available here; front-row tickets and an invite to the after-party are up for auction at A Chorus Line shattered the boundaries of what musicals could be, and how they could feel. Inspired by hours' worth of interviews with Broadway dancers, it presents soul-baring glimpses into the hardships and glories of these undervalued dreamers. With music by Marvin Hamlisch, lyrics by Edward Kleban, and a book by James Kirkwood Jr. and Nicholas Dante, it won nine of its twelve Tony nominations, and the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. When its 15-year run ended in 1990, it held the title of the longest-running Broadway production until Cats surpassed it in 1997; it is still the seventh longest running in history.
New York Times
18-07-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘A Chorus Line' and ‘Chicago' at 50: Who Won?
Just two musicals open on Broadway during the summer of 1975. 'Chicago,' in June, is received warily, like a stranger at the door. It's 'a very sleek show,' writes Walter Kerr in The New York Times. 'It just seems to be the wrong one.' But 'A Chorus Line,' in July, elicits unthrottled raves. 'The conservative word' for it, writes Kerr's colleague Clive Barnes, 'might be tremendous, or perhaps terrific.' Yet the musicals have more in common than their initial reception reveals. Both shows are about performers: 'Chicago' featuring 1920s vaudevillians with a sideline in murder; 'A Chorus Line,' contemporary Broadway dancers. Both are masterminded by director-choreographers of acknowledged (and self-acknowledged) brilliance: 'Chicago' by Bob Fosse; 'A Chorus Line' by Michael Bennett. Both are seen, regardless of reviews, as exemplars of style-meets-content storytelling in a period of confusing change in musical theater. And both shows remain touchstones today, albeit of very different things. Indeed, their differences now seem more salient than their similarities, and fate has been funny with their reputations. For 50 years, 'A Chorus Line' and 'Chicago' have tussled for primacy like Jacob and Esau, at least in the eyes and ears of Broadway fans. Which show is 'the wrong one' now? To answer that, you might look uncharitably at their faults. 'A Chorus Line' is shaggy and gooped up with psychobabble. 'Chicago' is mechanical, a big hammer pounding one nail. But both are so well crafted for performance that those faults fade in any good production. For me, having seen each many times, the highlights are more telling. In 'A Chorus Line' my favorite moment comes near the end of the song 'At the Ballet,' in which three women auditioning for an ensemble role in a Broadway musical sing their hearts out about sad childhoods redeemed by dance. Up the 'steep and very narrow stairway' that led to ballet class, Sheila learned to be happy despite her unloving father. Bebe came to see herself as pretty despite her disdainful mother. And though Maggie lacks the words for how dancing allowed her to feel, she doesn't lack the music. At the climax of a number that has been troubling its way through various cloudy keys for five minutes, her salvation comes in the form of a high E cast over a horizon of sudden D Major sunlight. It's gorgeous harmonically (the songs are by Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban) but also emotionally (the book is by James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante). Having learned to love the only home that loved them back, the women alchemize their personal despair into public joy and share it with us through bravura singing and dancing. As for my favorite moment from 'Chicago' — actually, I can't even quote it. It's too vulgar. Vulgarity is what you'd expect from 'Chicago,' in which the central figure, Roxie Hart, makes a bigger name for herself on Death Row than she could ever make on the stage. To her and the show's other 'merry murderesses,' the upshot of shooting a lover isn't justice but fame; indeed, justice is fame. 'She made a scandal and a start,' runs a typically biting lyric by Fred Ebb, to the catchiest possible melody by John Kander. We are in two very different worlds. 'A Chorus Line' is psychological, wholesome, sincere; 'Chicago' is sociological, jagged, jaded. 'A Chorus Line' keens: When one of the dancers injures his knee rehearsing a tap routine, the others sing the wonderfully weepy 'What I Did for Love' as a kind of professional obituary. But in cold 'Chicago,' with songs like 'Razzle Dazzle' and 'We Both Reached for the Gun,' the tears are only for show. No one can sing her heart out because no one has a heart. If we can't judge the shows by whose world is better — how to compare sweet apples and bitter oranges? — we can ask a bigger question about the birthright of the American musical theater. Which delivered our local art form into the future? At first it seemed certain to be 'A Chorus Line,' and not just because it won nine Tony Awards and a Pulitzer Prize, famously skunking 'Chicago.' Nor because the original Broadway production ran for more than 6,000 performances, its first national tour for six years. ('Chicago' did not quite crack 1,000 Broadway performances; its first national tour eked out a year.) Nor even because, within a year or two, 'What I Did for Love' had been recorded by pop stars as stylistically diverse as Aretha Franklin, Bing Crosby, Grace Jones, Petula Clark and Peggy Lee. The biggest number from 'Chicago,' 'All That Jazz,' was heard mostly on its cast album. Something else favored 'A Chorus Line.' Its story of 24 performers auditioning for eight spots in the ensemble of a flashy new musical flattered the hopes as well as the gumption of theater people in a time of commercial collapse. During the early 1970s, Broadway attendance dropped precipitously, falling to half of what it had been in the late 1960s. By January 1974, 15 of the 38 Broadway theaters then extant were empty, with no bookings in the offing; six were for sale. But thanks in part to the enormous success of 'A Chorus Line,' Broadway began to rebound, allowing the scope of adventurous taste to rebound with it. The Sondheim revolution that had begun in 1970 with 'Company' reached a climax with the flop 'Pacific Overtures' in 1976 and, three years later, the quasi-hit 'Sweeney Todd.' Now considered classics, both looked backward in time to look outward at the world, 'Pacific Overtures' considering America's 'opening' of Japan in the 19th century; 'Sweeney Todd,' the violence unleashed during the same period by the Industrial Revolution. In that company, 'A Chorus Line' began to seem provincial and era bound, looking not outward but inward, at the theater of the 1970s itself. The invasion of the British mega-musicals, starting with 'Cats' in 1982, pummeled 'A Chorus Line' from another direction, knocking the wind out of its touching soliloquies. Richard Attenborough's overblown 1985 movie, earning just $14 million on a budget of twice that, seemed to slam another door on the original stage show, which closed in 1990. An 'archivally and anatomically correct reproduction' in 2006 did little to suggest it had more to offer. By then, the underdog fortunes of 'Chicago' had begun to grow. A minimalist staging for the Encores! series in 1996 led to a Broadway transfer, which won six Tony Awards and turned the previously provisional critical acclaim into wholehearted hosannas. Now the longest-running American musical in Broadway history, the revival long ago surpassed both versions of 'A Chorus Line' put together, with more than 11,000 performances earning $800 million to date. Rubbing salt in the wound, Rob Marshall's sleekly kinetic movie was a triumph, grossing $300 million and winning six Academy Awards (including best picture) in 2003. To understand why 'Chicago' swamped 'A Chorus Line' in the public imagination, you must also look at how the two musicals work. 'A Chorus Line,' based on the taped reminiscences of Broadway dancers, is a lot like a yearbook: You get the class picture (buff, bluff, proud) and then the dig-deeper individual portraits (I'm tone-deaf, I'm flat-chested, I'm gay). But after each revelation, the dancers return to the anonymity of the line, because their destiny, at best, is to support and never upstage a real star. In that way, the show, however perfect, is self-sealing. You close the yearbook and put it away. But if the theater is the whole world in 'A Chorus Line' — the stage is literally all you see on the stage — in 'Chicago' the opposite is true: The whole world is theater. The book, by Ebb and Fosse, based on a 1926 play by Maurine Dallas Watkins, seeks to literalize the showbizification of American justice by performing it as a series of variety acts. Each song repurposes a familiar genre and personality from the period as commentary on the courts. Roxie essentially auditions for acquittal. Another showgirl, Velma Kelly, tries to ride her legal coattails, suggesting a sister act. Their lawyer, Billy Flynn, does a ventriloquist bit, with the defendant as his dummy. We are not supposed to care about any of them, only about the world that would turn 'two scintillating sinners' into stars. And because we still live in that world — celebrity remaining the best get-out-of-jail-free card — it seems inevitable that the show has proved eternal. Clever, merciless stunt casting by the producers has underlined and monetized that theme, dredging up C-list names to play roles they are qualified for only by virtue of being unqualified. What's eternal in 'A Chorus Line' is something else entirely. Its dancers, despite their disappointments, universally accept their fate as a fair trade. 'Love is never gone,' they sing in the 11 o'clock number. Because both directors, Fosse and Bennett, understood how to tell a story congruently, the visual and choreographic styles of the two shows are as different as their perspectives. Bennett's staging — Bob Avian was the co-choreographer — is poetic and minimal: When the dancers cover their faces with their résumé photos, we see how individuality is obscured even in the act of self-presentation. And when, in the finale, the black wall at the back of the stage revolves to create a palace of glittering mirrors, we see how the multiplication of the self does the same thing. The mirrors anonymize perfection. In 'Chicago' we are forced into complicity with imperfection. The dancing, however brilliantly performed, is sweaty and scuzzy; the characters are not meant to be talented. Nor is Fosse's visual poetry pretty. Bangles, fans and fedoras are just props and strategies, the way a gun is. In the original production, when Gwen Verdon, who played Roxie, inhaled a piece of confetti, it got caught in her vocal cords, necessitating surgery. You know your show is cold and cutting when it makes sense that a shred of celebratory paper would become a weapon. Cold and cutting turned out to be the ticket to the future. If 'A Chorus Line' is a culminating expression of one strain of musical theater — the Rodgers and Hammerstein strain, in which individuals must come to grips with society — 'Chicago' is a foundational expression of a new one, in which, society be damned, individuals are out for themselves. 'Now, every son of a bitch is a snake in the grass,' goes a lyric from the ironically titled 'Class.' And: 'Ain't there no decency left?' Fifty years have taught us to leave decency to 'A Chorus Line.' In an indecent age, 'Chicago' is inevitable, the treacherous confetti in our throats. Animations by Doug Reside, curator of the Billy Rose Theater Division of the New York Public Library. 'Chicago' images by Friedman-Abeles/New York Public Library for the Performing Arts; 'A Chorus Line' images by Martha Swope/New York Public Library for the Performing Arts.
Yahoo
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Back to the Future' at 40: All the ways the Robert Zemeckis classic was snubbed by the Oscars
Great Scott! Back to the Future has hit the big 4-0, roughly half the speed required to send Doc Brown's DeLorean back and forth in time. But the Robert Zemeckis-directed movie doesn't feel like ancient history, even if it first zipped into theaters in the distant past of the 1980s. Fueled by pedal to the metal pacing, ingeniously-designed set-pieces and the dynamic duo Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd, Back to the Future, released on July 3, 1985, remains an eternally youthful summer blockbuster even while other studio films of that era are rattling around with broken parts. Genius isn't always recognized in its time, though, which is why the movie's relatively poor showing at the 58th Academy Awards — held on March 24, 1986 — hangs extra-heavy four decades later. Back to the Future received four nominations and took home a single statue as Sydney Pollack's Out of Africa emerged as the evening's big winner. Here's a look back at which Oscars the movie was up for... and which categories it should have been contending in. More from Gold Derby The 'Jurassic' rebirth that never happened: How an Oscar-nominated screenwriter almost took the franchise in a wild new direction 'Jurassic World Rebirth' set to take a bite out of July 4 weekend box office Best Original Screenplay Zemeckis and collaborator Bob Gale were rightly recognized by voters for their expertly crafted script, which took five years to develop into the finished product. That calibration wasn't just about getting the action right — it was also always keeping the McFly clan front and center. "It's a movie about family," Gale remarked in one interview about why the film endures. "Movies about families always resonate." The other nominees: Brazil, The Official Story, The Purple Rose of Cairo, Witness (winner) Best Original Song Did you hear the news? Huey Lewis came thisclose to winning an Oscar for "The Power of Love," only to see the statue go to another '80s legend — Lionel Richie for "Say You, Say Me." No shade on Richie, but we say that the Lewis peppy tune has more staying power. The other nominees: The Color Purple, White Nights (2 nominations, 1 win), A Chorus Line Best Sound You win some, you lose some. In this case, Back to the Future lost one of the two Sound statues it was up for — back when the Academy Awards still had two Sound categories — but got the one it really deserved. The other nominees: A Chorus Line, Ladyhawke, Out of Africa (winner), Silverado Best Sound Effects Editing Back to the Future's lone win at least acknowledged its skillfully edited audio effects, from the screeching tires of the DeLorean to lightning striking the Hill Valley clock tower. Don't call it a consolation prize — consider it well-rewarded expertise. The other nominees: Ladyhawke, Rambo: First Blood Part II Best Picture The push-pull between art and commerce has long been a source of tension when it comes to the Oscars — remember Steven Spielberg's Jaws snub? But Back to the Future is a prime example of great artistry in service of lucrative commercial entertainment. Sometimes the movie that tops the annual box office isn't the best of Best Pictures (looking at you Batman Forever), but in 1985 it was. The actual nominees: The Color Purple, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Out of Africa (winner), Prizzi's Honor, Witness Best Director Back to the Future catches Zemeckis as he closes out the wunderkind phase of his career and enters Phase 2 — established hitmaker. He would go on to helm more sophisticated and technically complex movies, several of which also should have merited nominations. (His absence from the Best Director category for the still-remarkable Who Framed Roger Rabbit? smarts.) But this one has all of the effects sizzle along with plenty of emotional stakes. The actual nominees: Héctor Babenco (Kiss of the Spider Woman), John Huston (Prizzi's Honor), Akira Kurosawa (Ran), Sydney Pollack (Out of Africa, winner), Peter Weir (Witness) Best Actor Michael J. Fox famously replaced Eric Stoltz midway through production, and hit the ground running as the quintessential '80s everyteen-turned-time traveler. It's not a showy star turn, but if he slows down for even a minute, the movie dies. Maybe instead of an Oscar, they could have awarded him an Olympics-style gold medal. The actual nominees: Harrison Ford (Witness), James Garner (Murphy's Romance), William Hurt (Kiss of the Spider Woman, winner), Jack Nicolson (Prizzi's Honor), Jon Voight (Runaway Train) Best Supporting Actor Christopher Lloyd brought the mad scientist trope out of the '50s and into the '80s — but really, Doc Brown is a timeless character. While the Taxi star isn't shy about playing the buffoon, he always grounds his portrayal in the good doctor's emotional connection to Marty. "Michael came on [set] and the electricity was there from the get-go and it never went away," Lloyd once said of his co-star. "It's still there when we get together today." The actual nominees: Don Ameche (Cocoon, winner), Klaus Maria Brandauer (Out of Africa), William Hickey (Prizzi's Honor), Robert Loggia (Jagged Edge), Eric Roberts (Runaway Train) Best Visual Effects There's a reason why almost everyone believes that DeLoreans really can travel through time. The wizards at Industrial Light & Magic created a sound-and-light show accompanying each era-jump that seems like a natural add-on to an already-futuristic looking car. ILM can also boast to creating the largest lightning bolt in history for the climactic sequence, which seems like an Oscar-worthy achievement on its own. The actual nominees: Cocoon (winner), Return to Oz, Young Sherlock Holmes Best Original Score Be honest — who among us hasn't cranked up Alan Silvestri's Back to the Future theme when our odometer approaches 88 MPH on an open stretch of highway? That soaring piece of music is as instantly recognizable as any '80s Oscar-winning score, from Chariots of Fire to The Little Mermaid. Its snub was and still is completely tone deaf. The actual nominees: Agnes of God, The Color Purple, Out of Africa (winner), Silverado, Witness Best of Gold Derby Everything to know about 'The Batman 2': Returning cast, script finalized Tom Cruise movies: 17 greatest films ranked worst to best 'It was wonderful to be on that ride': Christian Slater talks his beloved roles, from cult classics ('Heathers,' 'True Romance') to TV hits ('Mr. Robot,' 'Dexter: Original Sin') Click here to read the full article.
Time Out
23-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Photograph: Supplied/Daniel Boud
In musical theatre circles, Cats is the show that everyone loves to hate, dismissing it as 'weird' and 'uncool'. So let me begin this review by stating that I love Cats. I listened to the cast recording over and over as a child, I met my best friend on a Cats mailing list (remember those?) when I was sixteen, and there's probably still some old Cats fanfiction floating around out there that I wrote in my teens. This much maligned show doesn't deserve the hate it gets. When Cats was first performed in the early 1980s, it was hailed as groundbreaking, bridging the gap between concept musicals and mega musicals in a way no show had done before. It won both Olivier and Tony awards for best musical, and ran for decades on the West End and Broadway. These days, it's viewed more as a 'guilty pleasure' – the show you secretly enjoy but are supposed to pretend you don't, lest you be seen as uncultured. But why? Concept musicals based around a theme rather than a traditional narrative have existed since the 1950s, with notable examples including Cabaret, Hair and Company. Dance-heavy musicals are also not a unique concept. Cats isn't even the only show to combine these two elements. But while shows like A Chorus Line and Pippin are hailed as iconic, Cats – which is essentially A Chorus Line with tails – is not shown the same love. Cats may not be too heavy on the plot, but it's a show for people who love the little details Much of the criticism surrounding Cats comes from wanting it to be something it isn't, instead of appreciating it for what it is; a visually spectacular, dance-heavy, surreal concept musical. And on that front, Australia's new 40th anniversary production well and truly delivers. Andrew Lloyd Webber is known to mess around with his shows, and thus, Cats has undergone some changes through the years – including the questionable hip-hop styled 'street cat' version of Rum Tum Tugger, who has thankfully been returned to his original Mick Jagger-esque rockstar form in this production (played with hip-swivelling panache by Des Flanagan). But much of the show remains true to its 1980s roots. This production, which celebrates the show's 40th Australian anniversary at Sydney's Theatre Royal (the very same venue where Cats made its Down Under debut all those years ago), retains the original set and makeup designs by John Napier, direction by Trevor Nunn (brought to life here by associate director and choreographer Chrissie Cartwright) and, most crucially, the choreography of Gillian Lynne. The choreo for this show is truly iconic, and as a lifelong Cats fan it was a joy to see it executed to such a high standard. In particular, Claudia Hastings (The Phantom of the Opera) as Victoria and French ballet dancer Axel Alvarez as Mr Mistoffelees (a role he has played in various international productions) expertly handle their challenging solo dances, garnering spontaneous cheers from the audience throughout the show on opening night. Other standouts are Jake O'Brien (West Side Story, & Juliet) and Savannah Lind (Hairspray, Chicago) as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, performing their number with mischievous joy and impressive vocal control. Particularly impressive is Lind's ability to sing while cartwheeling. Playing Grizabella, Gabriyel Thomas (Sister Act the Musical, Hairspray) has the unenviable task of bringing something new to an iconic song that must be one of the most overdone in all of musical theatre canon. Her connection to the role shines through in her performance and her rendition of 'Memory' is deeply heartfelt and authentic. At its core, Cats is a true ensemble show which provides every performer a moment to shine. As a fan, much of the joy comes from the smaller moments that might not be noticed by more casual pundits. I loved looking out for Tantomile (Sarah Bourke) and Coricopat (Joshua Gordon) moving in unison, and watching the way Munkustrap (Jarrod Draper) protects the other cats and directs their performances during 'Pekes and the Pollicles'. I found myself delighted by the close relationship between Demeter (Olivia Carniato) and Bombalurina (Mia Dabkowski-Chandler), and the slightly antagonistic behaviour from Rum Tum Tugger (Flanagan) towards Munkustrap. Cat s may not be too heavy on the plot, but it's a show for people who love the little details. Every single moment tells us something new about the characters, and you could truly just choose one cat to watch for the entire performance and you'll be entertained the entire time. If you've never seen Cats before – or worse, if your only exposure was the disastrous 2019 film – let this production be your formal invitation to join the Jellicle Ball. The Australian 40th anniversary production of Cats is playing at the Sydney Theatre Royal until September 6, 2025, before embarking on a national tour. Find out more and book your tickets at
