Cats
If you're not acquainted with Cats, let me offer one piece of advice before you go. It is based on a collection of whimsical poems by T. S. Eliot and, when I say whimsical, I mean lots of made-up words, wonderfully odd names and a plot that isn't really the point. There is a loose narrative running through it, but I wouldn't spend too much time trying to work it all out. Instead, simply sit back and enjoy one of Andrew Lloyd Webber's greatest theatrical spectacles from his golden era.
Drew McOnie's reimagining embraces moonlight throughout the design. A huge rusted crescent moon frames much of the action, while a glowing full moon hangs high above the stage, changing subtly as the evening progresses. Sami Fendall's set and costume design creates a world that feels mysterious and magical, while still remaining distinctly different from the iconic original production.
With a show as beloved as Cats, comparisons are almost impossible to avoid, although I tried to judge this revival on its own merits. The costumes abandon the bright, exaggerated colours of the original in favour of earthy autumnal tones, with textured fringing giving every cat a unique silhouette. Whether it was the concept or simply the lighting, there were moments where several cats appeared distinctly green. Oddly enough, this was one of the few visual choices that briefly took me out of the moment, yet somehow Mr Mistoffelees sporting silver details and even a beanie didn't bother me in the slightest. Theatre has its own strange logic.
I will admit I miss the elaborate wigs from the original production, although there is a lovely nod to them. Gary Wilmot's Gus the Theatre Cat is the only character to wear the classic-style headpiece, a charming wink to those familiar with earlier productions. His knowing delivery of lines such as "These modern productions, they're all very well" earned knowing laughs from the audience.
If there was one costume that didn't quite convince me, it was Elliot Broadfoot's Bustopher Jones. Rather than looking every inch the distinguished St James's gentleman dressed to the nines, his costume felt more like an apron than tuxedo and spats. The oversized padded waist bolster also leaned a little too close to pantomime for my taste. Thankfully, it was a very small quibble in an otherwise beautifully realised production.
One thing this version excels at is its pacing. I genuinely found myself wondering whether parts of the score had been rearranged because the evening feels considerably less episodic than I remember. Instead of one number abruptly following another, scenes gently flow into each other. Even when the focus is elsewhere, the stage remains alive with curious cats prowling around the edges, climbing across the apron and constantly observing one another. It creates the impression that the Jellicle world continues regardless of who currently has centre stage.
Danny Nattrass and Briana Craig are tremendous fun as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, providing one of the highlights of the first act. Their playful chemistry is infectious, and the audience clearly adored every mischievous moment.
Then there is Jaydon Vijn's Rum Tum Tugger. Wow.
If anyone wants to learn stagecraft, simply watch this performance. His charisma is extraordinary, and his connection with the audience never falters. It isn't just the swagger that impresses; it's the stillness. Even when he isn't moving, your eyes are drawn to him. Every glance feels deliberate, every pose completely inhabited. It is one of those performances where you simply cannot look anywhere else.
He is often beautifully framed by Katie Dunsden's Bombalurina, affectionately referred to during the interval by more than one audience member as "the sexy cat". It isn't difficult to understand why. She performs completely from head to tail, every movement measured, elegant and unmistakably feline, with the vivid red lipstick providing just the right touch of glamour.
Following the interval comes Gary Wilmot's Gus the Theatre Cat, and the revised pirate sequence was one of my favourite surprises. I don't remember it being in previous productions, but I absolutely loved it. Watching Wilmot transform into the younger Growltiger version of himself is theatrical joy from beginning to end. We don't actually see a huge amount of him during the evening, but when he does appear, both he and the audience seem to be having enormous fun.
The choreography also takes an interesting new direction. So many dance schools and colleges perform excerpts from Cats because Gillian Lynne's original choreography became iconic through its incredible synchronisation and feline precision. McOnie's version feels much more contemporary musical theatre, favouring ensemble storytelling over recreation. There are still memorable moments, but this production confidently establishes its own movement vocabulary rather than trying to imitate the original.
A few of the acrobatic sequences looked understandably more precarious in the open-air setting, and Diante Lodge's Macavity slipped on his entrance during this performance. It looked genuinely painful, yet he recovered instantly and carried on professionally. Hopefully no lasting harm was done. Interestingly, it also highlighted that Jet Yau's Mr Mistoffelees wore shoes with noticeably more grip, almost certainly because of the spectacular breakdance-inspired choreography that makes his magical number feel so fresh and exciting.
One of my favourite changes comes with Memory. Rather than belonging solely to Grizabella, the song becomes something shared between the older and younger generations of cats, creating a beautiful emotional thread running through the production. I found myself expecting Grizabella to transform into her younger self by the finale.
On this particular evening, Grizabella was played by understudy Taziva-Faye Katssande, who delivered an outstanding performance. The audience rewarded her with a mid show standing ovation, and deservedly so. It wasn't simply about producing the famous notes; every lyric felt lived-in and emotionally truthful. Understudy performances can sometimes feel like a pleasant surprise. This felt like a star-making turn.
Matthew Caputo's Skimbleshanks remains enormous fun, although I did find myself wishing the train emerged more organically from the set rather than being wheeled on. More generally, with such an imaginative design, I occasionally wanted a few more hidden entrances and theatrical surprises built into the scenery. That said, this is a touring production, and compromises inevitably have to be made.
There was one ensemble performer whose movement lacked the feline poise and tension displayed by everyone else. They weren't doing anything technically wrong, but the flow simply wasn't there, occasionally drawing the eye for the wrong reasons. It may well have been an off night, and against such an exceptionally strong ensemble, perhaps it stood out more than it otherwise would have.
Ultimately, this isn't trying to recreate the original Cats, and I think it is better for that. While I still miss the tap-dancing cockroaches and a few of the nostalgic touches from earlier productions, Drew McOnie has crafted a revival that respects its source while confidently finding its own identity. Which, incidentally, is considerably more than can be said for the film adaptation. Supported by a superb company, memorable individual performances and an atmosphere that feels magical from beginning to end, this production reminds us exactly why Cats has remained one of musical theatre's most enduring phenomena.
It may not replace the original in my affections, but as a modern revival it is an absolute triumph.
This show was reviewed on the 6th August 2026 at Regents Park Open Air Theatre where it runs until the 19th September 2026. Tickets avaliable here: https://openairtheatre.com/production/cats
Review written by Valentine Gale-Sides
AD/Gifted
Photo credit : Mark Senior
Check out other reviews from Curtain Call Reviews and get in touch to have our reviewers head to your show