by Zach Raffio. @zachraffio.
Tom Hooper’s adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s beloved musical Cats has pounced into theaters this weekend, facing harsh criticism from critics and moviegoers alike.
How does The Broadway Beat think it fares? Well, we didn’t see it, but we did each take four tabs of compact, military-grade LSD and then go check out the cats for adoption over at Petco. So, here’s our review of that.
The ambience of the film (and by "film" we mean drug-induced Petco run) was weird from the start. We were pretty sure everyone in the theater (Petco) was looking at us, instead of the screen (cats for adoption). One man, who I’m pretty sure was wearing a suit made of glass (later confirmed to be Petco manager David Polstin), asked me to stop taste-testing the dog treats. Little did he know, I wasn’t taste-testing - they were telling me the nuclear codes.
Cats has never quite been known for its clear-cut storyline, but this adaptation was even more difficult to follow.
The cats refused to introduce themselves via whimsical songs, but rather by explaining to me how flowers work in passionate detail. Then the glass man (again, later confirmed to be Petco manager David Polstin) came back and asked me to stop trying to let the cats out of their cages, even though all the cats promised to Venmo me if I did. Also I think one of the cats was my Dad?
The performances, though star-studded, were uninspired at best.
Instead of James Corden and Taylor Swift, I got to know Buckles and Winslow - two tuxedo cats who often took the shape of my high school bully, Adam Herrigan. They would say mean things to me and threaten to shave my head when I wasn’t looking. That was… that was a lot. I had to go to the bathroom for a bit and cool down. No, no I’m good. I’m good. Nobody touch me.
After about 45 minutes of quiet rocking in the men’s room (later confirmed to be Petco manager David Polstin’s car), I returned to the theater (Petco) for the second half of the film (Petco drug trip).
By now, the cats had all gotten lawyers (paranoid much?) and were threatening to sue me for not providing equal attention during my earlier dance class. I forgot to mention, me and the cats did a dance class. Luckily they dropped the suit after I paid a settlement (I gave the cats my wedding ring).
Now, finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for - the music.
I didn’t hear any Andrew Lloyd Webber songs, but the radio in Petco was playing adult alternative radio. Do you remember The Script? What happened to those guys? Anyway, I didn’t get to hear much, because soon after the cat’s lawsuit was dropped, myself and the rest of The Broadway Beat staff were escorted out of the theater (Petco) before the movie (ill-advised LSD Petco trip) was over.
In conclusion, Cats is a loud, weird, convoluted mess of an adaptation that will surely live on as a collectively odd, endearingly laughable experience for all of us. Also I just found out that the Petco we went to doesn’t have any cats. Who was I talking to then? What were those things?
No, seriously, what was that?
So everyone took 400 mics? Why? Way to pull out your psychedelic internet dick for a measuring contest, fucking tools.
I agree with Rachel Hyman. Since the "creatures" took the shiny shiny wedding ring as compensation, it was probably ferrets.
I suspect it was the ferrets communicating with you.