I went into Cats with a mix of excitement and curiosity.
I’ve always been a fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber, and like most people, I already knew some of the music. “Memory” in particular exists far beyond the show itself. But alongside that familiarity came something else: years of mixed reactions, criticism, and general confusion around what Cats actually is.
So the anticipation was high; not just to enjoy it, but to understand it.
First Impressions: This Is Theatre
The first thing that stood out was the set.
At first glance, it doesn’t appear to change much. But as the show progresses, you realise how deceptively versatile it is. Elements that seem purely aesthetic early on are later repurposed in clever, unexpected ways.
That level of intentionality keeps you engaged. It subtly supports the storytelling, even when the story itself isn’t always clear.
That’s the kind of theatre I gravitate towards.
There’s a clear appreciation for theatrical technique here. Practical effects. Physical staging. Clever use of space. It’s not about constant change. It’s about how what’s already there is used.
And that’s very much in line with Lloyd Webber’s style.
Then Comes the Confusion
Very quickly, though, something becomes apparent.
You’re not really watching a story. I found myself trying to follow a narrative that simply wasn’t there. Waiting for a structure to reveal itself. A central conflict. A sense of progression.
And when it didn’t come, there was a moment of irritation. I like a linear story. I like clarity. I like resolution. And Cats doesn’t offer that in the way most musicals do.
Once you realise that, the experience shifts. But getting to that realisation can feel disorienting.
Why It Feels This Way
The structure makes more sense when you understand where it comes from.
Cats is based on Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T. S. Eliot. These weren’t written as a story. They were character-driven poems, originally intended for children.
When Andrew Lloyd Webber began working with them, he wasn’t trying to build a traditional musical. He was experimenting with setting these poems to music.
The turning point came with Grizabella the Glamour Cat, an unpublished poem that introduced emotional weight to the otherwise fragmented material.
But even then, the structure didn’t change.
What you’re watching isn’t a narrative. It’s a collection of moments.
Where the Show Truly Shines
If the structure is unconventional, the execution is anything but.
The costumes are exceptional. The makeup is detailed and transformative. And the performances are, quite simply, flawless.
The choreography, though, is where the show really elevates itself. This isn’t just dance. It’s endurance. It’s athletic. At times, it borders on acrobatic.
There are moments where performers are leaping, climbing, contorting, and sustaining an energy level that feels relentless. It’s technically demanding and, more importantly, consistently engaging to watch.
It adds a layer of excitement that carries the show, even when the structure doesn’t.
There’s also something worth calling out here.
Watching a South African cast deliver at this level is genuinely impressive. The quality is on par with any international production. There’s no sense of compromise.
It’s just world-class theatre, and that matters.
“Memory” Live Is Something Else
Then there’s “Memory”.
Even if you’ve heard it before, seeing it performed live is something entirely different.
This was the moment that cut through everything else for me. The confusion, the abstraction, the lack of structure. It all falls away.
It was one of those rare theatre moments where you feel it physically. Goosebumps. Stillness. Complete focus.
The performance was flawless. Controlled, emotional, and powerful without feeling forced.
It’s not just the highlight of the show.
It’s the moment where everything finally aligns.
A Spectacle, Not a Story
By the end of it, I found myself reframing the experience.
Cats isn’t trying to tell a story in the traditional sense. It’s trying to create a spectacle. An atmosphere. A world.
And when viewed through that lens, it makes more sense.
It’s still unconventional. It’s still, at times, confusing. But it’s also undeniably impressive in what it sets out to do.
Final Verdict: Should You See Cats?
If you’re expecting a clear, structured narrative, you may find Cats frustrating.
But if you go in understanding what it is, and what it isn’t, there’s a lot to appreciate.
- The production quality is exceptional
- The choreography is both technically demanding and visually thrilling
- The performances are world-class
- The staging is more intelligent than it first appears
- And “Memory” alone is worth the experience
It’s not a musical that tries to please everyone.
But it is a musical that commits fully to its identity.
And that, in itself, is worth seeing.
Final Thought
You may not leave Cats with a clear understanding of what you’ve just watched.
But you will leave having experienced something.
And in theatre, that’s often the difference between something forgettable and something that stays with you.
