'Cats' are back, right up some fans' alley

Everyone has a strong opinion on Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical Cats, whose national tour stops at the Merriam Theater this week.

Those who say they don't haven't seen the show, or are straight-up lying. One either eagerly pays to watch feral felines prance and sing T.S. Eliot's poetry decade after decade, tour after tour (this is the 26th straight year Cats has toured), or wants to toss the whole juggernaut in a bag and drown it in the nearest river. There's no in-between.

It's why there's chocolate and vanilla, Webber and Weill, dog people and yes, cat people. It's also why some of Tuesday night's audience felt compelled to give the cast a standing ovation, while others ran for the exits like frightened mice, right in the middle of the climactic rendition of "Memory." Sublime, meet ridiculous.

Based on the fanciful poems of Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, the musical is less a work of narrative than a succession of tuneful entrances, introductions, and exits in heavy makeup. Gillian Lynne's choreography is gratingly obvious, all twitchy limbs, wiggling rumps, and hands cupped into paws; Trevor Nunn's songs are as hard to dislodge from one's subconscious as taffy is from teeth.

Yet these are also the reasons families love it - it's easy to analyze . . . or not, and visually exciting enough to keep the little ones' attention. There's certainly a reason the thing's been playing to sold-out houses since 1981.

Still, the current production of Cats shows signs it's reaching the end of its ninth life. On opening night, the house didn't open until curtain time, and the show didn't begin until a half-hour later. When the curtain finally rose, it was on a cast that featured no fewer than four understudies - one of whom was Adam Steiner, in the central role of the Elvis-like Rum Tum Tugger. Steiner's performance was more overwrought American Idol castoff (and not finalist-grade, either) than hip-swiveling showstopper, and though Anastasia Lange's Grizabella hit the notes, she also chewed them to pieces on the way to the soaring conclusion of "Memory."

The tour's director/choreographer, Richard Stafford, requires a moderate baseline of effort from his performers, resulting in the peculiarly silent and deflated "Jellicle Ball," while John Napier's costumes are more mangy, Sharpie-scrawled unitard than fur. Musical director David Andrews Rogers has trouble staying aligned with the performers, particularly during "Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer," which also wasn't helped any by its out-of-breath performers.

To be sure, there are highlights, such as Jonathan Mercer's chain of pirouettes as Mr. Mistoffelees and the company's triumphant chorus during Cats' grand finale, "The Ad-dressing of Cats." But it's too little, too late, and ultimately, a case of the kittens drowning themselves.

Through Sunday at the Merriam Theater, 250 S. Broad St. Tickets: $34.50-$72. Information: 215-336-1234 or www.Ticketmaster.com.

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