Cats are very much like you

"As Cats is coming to a close on Broadway this month let's get nostalgic. What does cats mean for you?"

That was the first thing I saw when I woke up and checked Facebook on Thursday morning. The post, prefaced with "#themethursday" was exactly the sort I would expect to see in Conventional Cats Conversations -- a group dedicated to Cats cosplayers, which I am. The group attracts all sorts of Cats fans, and I love it dearly, but it's no secret that all the moderators and the majority of the more experienced members and regular theatre-goers and con-attenders are based in Europe. That doesn't really mean anything; after all, anyone from anywhere can be attached to a production of Cats. And in fact, the prompt wasn't specifically about the Broadway production at all. So why did it feel both like I was being mocked, and a punch in the gut?

It wasn't intentional, obviously. But I guess-- the reference to closing by people whose local production this isn't was... strange. Because it was a reminder that Cats belongs to everyone. Broadway isn't a little corner just shared by myself and the rest of the Junkyard. A similar realization hit me on Friday when the woman sitting in front of me and Connor turned around and told us it was closing on the 30th. As if we didn't know. Because... why would we know? Why would the average theatre-goer know? I felt somehow like I was looking into a mirror.

But anyway, back to #themethursday.

The Broadway production has some... interesting politics surrounding it when it comes to the Facebook group, which I won't get into for the sake of not starting any fights or raising any tensions. We don't need that. But I always feel a need to defend it to the fans only used to the original production, without the changes to Gillian Lynne's choreography and the rearrangement of the Pekes and the Pollicles to replace Growltiger. People who haven't spent as much time around this production as I have just might not get it. And judging by other people's answers to the post, I've had somewhat of a different experience with Cats than most. 

Here's what I wrote:

"Okay well first of all, shhhhhh we don’t have to talk about it"

Always have to start out with a little bit of humor to hide the pain. And then I continued:

"But in all seriousness- Cats has been part of my life since I was very young, as I know is the case for a lot of people. And between then and now, it’s importance and relevance to me has fluctuated. But since the bway revival opened and I’ve been fortunate enough to see it as many times as I have, it’s taken on an entirely new meaning for me. The friends I’ve made because of it, the actors who I’ve become close with and have been able to learn from and admire, they are what make Cats so special to me. Feeling like I have a second home, a place I belong, and all the smiles and laughter I’ve shared there. And the show itself of course, it’s what everyone else has said. It transports you, as all good theatre does. But there’s just a charm about Cats that for me, no other show has ever captured. The costumes, the dancing, the characters themselves bring so much. There really is nothing that makes me happier."

After that, I went back to sleep because I had been up until 3am writing a paper. When I woke up again, it was to a number of texts from the Junkyard saying that my comment had made them cry. Go figure, right?

Anyway, a lot of people have gone out of town for the holidays. Friday was Connor's last time before closing, Thursday was Stina's. Me and Tori are leaving on Thursday for a well-needed escape from the city and as much as I don't want to be away from the show, I couldn't afford to stay anyway. My wallet is already aching. 

Tuesday was the last time the four of us -- me, Tori, Stina, Connor (or, as our groupchat is named: "robert 'robbie bobert bob robbinson bobertson' nicholson" ...if you see this Robbie, then I'm sorry) were together until right before closing. And naturally, I got a little emotional. I'll share my Facebook post about that here too, because originality is dead. 

"Alright, time to get a little emotional. In the last few months, these three have been “my people”. We’ve spent at least one day a week together, often more, since basically the end of the summer. We see Cats, we door, we hang out in Starbucks, and have late-night McDonalds trips. Because of our individual holiday plans, last night was the last time the four of us would be together for a while. So naturally, we made the most of it. Baking cookies, dinner at Bareburger, a trip to Schmackarys, waiting in Times Square for a half hour for the Cats billboard that never appeared, hot chocolate at Starbucks, and one last stage door. The next time we all see each other, Cats will be closing. It’ll be a sad reunion, but a welcome one."

Stina, Connor, me, Tori

I failed to include going to the Marriott that day too, but honestly that happens so frequently it doesn't seem like a big deal. RIP doing Cats makeup in the bathroom 2017-2017. 

Anyway. As I was constructing this particular post in my head during the show on Friday there was a lot more I wanted to say, and naturally I've forgotten it all now, or I can't think of a way to put it into words. But you know, if you haven't gotten the point from this post or any of the last few, I don't think there's much more I can do.

And now I remember. Silly me.

During the Addressing, I was thinking about what makes Cats so beloved. (This is something I usually do, it wasn't unique to Friday's visit.) And maybe it's stupid, but I had a revelation I hadn't had before.

Cats attracts people for many different reasons. And in the end, maybe it is just a musical about Cats. 

Maybe.

But maybe... Cats works because it's a story about being human. A story that celebrates the best (and the worst, but in the end, still the best) of humanity, even while singing about "unashamed felinity". 

Remember the line "you've learned enough to take the view that cats are very much like you"?

When I was younger and I watched the DVD, this was the part that always messed with me. I always viewed the song as Old Deuteronomy singing not to the audience, but to the cats themselves. I'm watching the recording now as I write this, and I don't see it as strongly as I used to, although I understand why I thought that. It isn't anything I ever really consider when watching it live. But what this meant to me as a 5th grader who was hopelessly in love with Jacob Brent's Mistoffelees, and longed to live in the world of the Jellicles, was that the show was getting meta before I even knew what meta was. The cats weren't cats at all. They were humans. They were actors, of course, but even within the story, they were human all along. Using the appearance of cats and the songs about cats to talk about humanity. And the final song of the show was Old Deuteronomy, perhaps the only one of the company who actually was a cat, wrapping up not what the audience had learned about cats, but what the tribe had leaned about being human. It was... actually pretty deep for an 11 year old. And I guess at the time, this upset me, because it meant that they had never really been cats, and I couldn't pretend that somewhere in the multiverse there really was a junkyard full of attractive anthropomorphic felines. Or something like that. But now, that interpretation of the story is much more attractive to me. 

There is nothing in the lyrics of the songs-- T.S. Eliot's poetry-- that is exclusive to these animals, that cannot be applied to people. Eliot for sure was talking about real cats in his poems, but that language was heightened. Cats don't talk, they don't manage trains, they aren't magic. They have strong personalities, but not as specific as what we see onstage, which such an acute understanding of how the world works. There are Grizabellas in the world. There are Rum Tum Tuggers. Munkustraps. Demeters. Skimbles. And yes-- even a fair share of Carbuckettys. People see themselves in every cat, and it's because of how human they are. How do you watch Demeter during the Macavity fight, or even listen to "The Moments of Happiness" or "Memory" and think to yourself, "ah yes. This is about Cats"??

A question we asked a lot in my Text Analysis class this year when reading plays was why that story needed to be a piece of theatre. Why not a book, or a movie, or a comic strip, or any other medium. Why theatre? And so the question may come up-- if Cats is a musical about the personalities of humans, then why make it... a musical... called Cats... and force your actors to wear heavy makeup and lycra unitards? Well, primarily, Andrew Lloyd Webber wanted to adapt Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, and it's easy to see why. But-- the story the musical tells, and the lesson it teaches about humanity could never work if the characters were humans. It's too on the nose. You can't write a song about an old fat guy who likes to eat a lot. But make him a cat, give him a giant spoon, and let him experience the world through the eyes of a creature much smaller and in a way more innocent than a person, and suddenly you can tell his story easily.

Or take Gus, my favorite example. I didn't get the appeal of him when I was younger. His song was quiet and slow, and longer than it needed to be. He wasn't fun and Jellylorum pissed me off. That was always the bathroom break number. But then when I re-watched the movie in my junior year of high school, I suddenly got it. By then, I had been doing theatre for four or five years. Not as long as Gus of course, but long enough to have played some really wonderful roles and had some experiences I wished I could relive. I'd gone from a newbie in school theatre to an old pro, and watched younger kids join up. And I'd seen how in some ways, I had gotten better training when I was their age than they were now. So yeah. I was starting to understand Gus, and I didn't hate him anymore. He was me, in so many ways that I never thought possible. The fact that he was a cat was irrelevant because I saw myself on the screen, singing about theatre. That's when I accepted that for me, Cats had stopped being about cats. And I embraced it.