'Cats' May Still Be Nonsensical, but the 'Cats: The Jellicle Ball' Revival Just Makes Sense

New York's hottest club is the Wall Street queer revival of "Cats."

In the liminal space between the Oculus World Trade Center and the 9/11 Memorial, where finance guys in blue shirts and tourists mingle on carless concrete, there is a joyous, colorful, queer reimagining of “Cats.”

If theater is meant to transport you, “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” takes its audience on the ride of their lives. The new Perelman Arts Center, of which “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” is one of its first mainstage productions, has blocked out the Wall Street hustle and traditional style. Instead, it immerses us in the thrill, noise, and splendor of Ballroom culture — a place “Cats” has certainly never gone before.

This revival doesn’t just revive "Cats" but reimagines it. The show’s new title, "Cats: The Jellicle Ball," pays homage to its new setting in the Harlem Ballroom scene. Ballroom is a scene typically led by queer communities of color, where participants walk the runway — involving dancing, performing, lip-syncing, and modeling — to compete for prizes and trophies. Participants walk in themed categories like “Opulence” or “Realness.” 

In not only this new setting but new culture, “Cats” may still be a senseless musical, but this production absolutely makes sense. 

“Cats: The Jellicle Ball” uses Ballroom culture to elevate the original plot and put it into a context that gives power to its performers. “Cats” is originally about a tribe of Cats gathering on the night they make the “Jellicle choice,” deciding which Cat will ascend to the Heaviside Layer and get to be reborn. The show progresses as each Cat introduces themselves with a song. 

In “Cats: The Jellicle Ball,” there’s still the same Jellicle choice to make. This time, however, each Cat struts, vogues, death drops, dances, and sings their heart out as they introduce themselves and try to win their category. The categories elevate the Cats and their personalities, embellishing the original score and giving the lyrics new meaning. For example, Rum Tum Tugger (Sydney James Harcourt) is supposed to be a show-off Cat. In this production, he competes in “Realness,” ripping off his pants and shirt as a way to flex and win.

It’s not just the layers of new meaning that make this revival work, but the dedication to immersing the audience into the show’s new culture. Instead of a traditional stage with seating in front of it, the set (Rachel Hauck) is a long runway with seats on both sides, stretching to a judge’s table. Cabaret tables litter the sides of the stage; my friends and I were lucky enough to snag tickets to one of them, which included pre-show prosecco and intermission M&M’s. Complete with flashing lights (Adam Honoré) and even a disco ball, the design of “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” demands that you not just admire this new setting — you become a part of it.

It’s not exactly immersive, but rather inviting, encouraging the audience to engage with the performance as they watch it. The show’s performers move in and around the stage, right up against enthusiastic audience members. It’s hard to know where to look because there’s something incredible happening in every corner. It’s also hard to stop yourself from clapping and cheering when you have a group of performers so talented. 

This ensemble does what feels like the near impossible, contorting their bodies, death dropping in the highest of heels, and strutting in gorgeous, sparkly, colorful costumes (Qween Jean). (You can also be awed by videos of this dancing in a new NYT feature.) There were multiple mid-song standing ovations — when a dancer finished another impressive solo, or when the wise Cat Old Deuteronomy (André De Shields) strutted down the runway for three minutes, effortlessly exuding power. 

I’ve never been so exhausted from watching a performance. I left the theater in the breathless way you do when you’ve experienced something intense and exciting, eyes wide open, jaw dropped. 

I also left the theater a little confused and overstimulated, but that’s not a knock on “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” — it speaks to what “Cats” is. It’s an ensemble show that’s mostly plotless and makes me wonder about Andrew Lloyd Webber’s mental state. 

To get rid of that confusion is to get rid of the core of “Cats” itself. This revival doesn’t try to explain the odd lyrics or structure, but rather reimagines the chaos and fluidity. It doubles down on the ensemble nature of the show, letting multiple performers have their moment. It shows us a new way to think about competition as Cats walk in the Ball’s different categories. It turns a tribe of Jellicle Cats into a community of queer people, and generously invites us in on their fun.

“Cats: The Jellicle Ball” isn’t just show — it’s a celebration, a communal experience. It’s the best of a revival: reimagining something to make new meaning, and a hell of a fun time.

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“Cats: The Jellicle Ball” has been the buzz of the summer, and I can certainly see why. It’s already been extended multiple times, and while this Off-Broadway run is currently sold out, there are also rumors bubbling of a Broadway transfer...

• How I found out about it: Twitter! I follow a few theater journalists, but it felt like my entire feed had been filtered to talk about “Cats: The Jellicle Ball.”

• Why I went: I’d never seen “Cats,” nor had I ever had any desire to. However, the buzz, premise, and videos on the show’s website made it seem like an opportunity I couldn’t miss.

• How I got tickets: The theater had $30 under 30 tickets available over the phone or in-person! Emily, Naomi, and I went in-person to get them and the box office even let us choose our seats.

What’s next? There’s a lot I’m excited about that’s just opened or opening soon (and you can read about some of these shows here), but I’ve yet to book some tickets. If you’re in the same boat as me and looking for something to start your September with, Broadway Week is back and you can get 2-for-1 tickets from September 3rd to 15th. I’d always recommend “Hadestown,” but I also loved “Suffs,” “Job,” and “Stereophonic.”