A Cats Musical Diehard Fan Attempts To Autopsy Cats (2019)
Many, many reviews, which I shall not attempt to chronicle here, have panned Cats (2019)’s distressing horniness, the absurd “plot,” the incomprehensible human/cat hybrid-ness of it all.
This article is not that.
I’ve been a fan of the musical Cats since I was twelve years old. (…We’ll get in to that later.) If you would like me to prove my Cats fandom credentials to you, I absolutely will not be linking to my old fanfiction but rest assured it exists. I was very active in the Cats fan community on our various sites, c. 2002–2004. I even (and this is the one I’m real embarrassed of) cosplayed as Bombalurina (that’s Taylor Swift, for those of you who don’t know the names of all the cats in Cats.) It involved dyeing a clown wig and painting a leotard and I will NOT be showing you pictures.
So, yeah, I’m on board for Cats. It’s absolutely ridiculous and I love it, and that’s not just teenage me saying so: I saw the stage show when it was on tour in Los Angeles last year. I went half-ironically, like “ha, guess I’ll see if this thing I was obsessed with in 2002 holds up?” and ended up having a great time. It’s a fun show that embraces its complete inanity. The dancing is legitimately awesome, the songs are catchy (for the most part), it’s a fun few hours that’s not trying to be something…
