Review: Cats the Musical at Her Majesty’s Theatre

Opening night of Cats the Musical at Her Majesty’s Theatre Adelaide was always going to be a moment of high anticipation. For some in the audience, this show carries four decades of memories, while for others, it was the first encounter with Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical built on the whimsical verses of T. S. Eliot. This 40th Anniversary Australian tour did not set out to reinvent the show, but rather to celebrate it with respect, polish and a touch of feline daring, and on Thursday night, the company delivered a production that was both nostalgic and alive with energy.

The transformation of Her Majesty’s Theatre into a moonlit junkyard was immediately effective. John Napier’s original design gave the Adelaide stage a sense of vast scale, filled with scaffolding, nooks and mysterious corners where cats could emerge, vanish and prowl. The lighting, credited to Howard Eaton with associate Matthew Tunchon, often deepened the mystery with smoky pools and sudden shafts of illumination, though at times the dimness veiled the performers’ faces a little too much, swallowing some of the makeup artistry that deserves to be seen.

Costumes and wigs, under the stewardship of Billy Roache and Kellie Ritchie with makeup supervision by Maria Cave, looked superbly detailed. Each cat was individualised in its markings, hairlines and fur patterns, ensuring the ensemble felt like a living tribe rather than interchangeable dancers.

As ever, choreography was the lifeblood of Cats, with Gillian Lynne’s iconic movement vocabulary honoured and refreshed through Chrissie Cartwright’s work as associate director and choreographer for this tour. The ensemble slinked, leapt, stretched and curled with feral precision, and in moments where the tribe moved as one organism, the theatre seemed to vibrate. Associate’s Tommy Luyben and Amy Berrisford kept the production tight, and the orchestra under Paul White’s musical direction supported the action with lush and lively playing. Greg Pink’s sound design struck a strong balance, letting both voices and instruments breathe.

Among the cast, there were standout performances that defined the night. Gabriyel Thomas as Grizabella delivered a ‘Memory’ that was raw and heartfelt, grounding the show’s emotion in a way that pierced through the spectacle. Mark Vincent’s Old Deuteronomy commanded the stage with gravitas, his sonorous voice and calm authority anchoring the Jellicle Ball.

Des Flanagan swaggered and screlted through Rum Tum Tugger with cheeky charisma, drawing both laughs and admiration with his rock-and-roll bravado. Todd McKenney proved versatile in his roles, finding humour in Bustopher Jones and poignancy in the elderly Asparagus, while Jarrod Draper gave Munkustrap the necessary strength and clarity to hold the show together as its quasi-narrator. The ensemble sparkled too: Lucy Maunder’s Jellylorum, Leigh Archer’s warm Jennyanydots, and the playful antics of Savannah Lind and Jake O’Brien as Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie brought life to their vignettes. Claudia Hastings glided through Victoria’s balletic solos, and Xavier Pellin, doubling as Mr Mistoffelees, electrified the stage with dazzling footwork that drew spontaneous applause.

The vignette structure of Cats has always been a double-edged sword: while it allows each character to shine, it also threatens the momentum of the evening, especially in the first act where energy can sag. A few moments of staging felt dimmer than ideal, yet these were minor distractions against the overall discipline and commitment of the cast, who gave themselves completely to the feline illusion.

What made opening night in Adelaide memorable was not just the spectacle of fur and dance, but the emotional sincerity the performers managed to uncover beneath it. Thomas’s Grizabella made the house hold its breath, Vincent’s Old Deuteronomy reminded us of wisdom and time, and the ensemble created a living, breathing community on stage. The audience responded with warmth, leaping to their feet as the final notes rang out.

Forty years on, Cats remains an oddity – plotless, indulgent, at times bewildering – but when done well, as it was here, it can be strangely moving.

Adelaide’s Jellicle Ball opened with style, discipline and heart, reminding us that even a musical with nine lives still has the power to surprise, captivate and haunt.

If you surrender to its eccentric rhythms, you may just find yourself leaving the theatre humming ‘Memory,’ touched by the strange beauty of this tribe of cats.

4.5 stars

Lia Loves.