The Evolution of 'Cats': From Leotards to Ballroom Beats – A Cultural Renaissance?
When I first heard about Cats: The Jellicle Ball, my initial reaction was skepticism. Another revival of Cats? Really? But as I delved deeper, I realized this isn’t just a rehash of the 1980s classic. It’s a bold reimagining that marries Andrew Lloyd Webber’s timeless score with the vibrant, underground world of Ballroom culture. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it bridges two seemingly disparate worlds—the high-gloss Broadway stage and the raw, queer subculture that emerged from 1920s Harlem.
A New Coat of Paint on an Old Favorite
From my perspective, the most intriguing aspect of this revival is its fusion of Ballroom culture with Lloyd Webber’s feline fantasia. The original Cats, with its ballet-inspired choreography and leg-warmer-clad cats, was a product of its time. But this new iteration feels like a cultural dialogue, not just a costume change. The inclusion of voguing—a dance form born out of Black and Latino queer communities—adds layers of meaning to the Jellicle Ball. It’s no longer just a whimsical gathering of cats; it’s a celebration of identity, resilience, and self-expression.
One thing that immediately stands out is the casting. With legends like André De Shields reprising his role as Old Deuteronomy and newcomers like Leiomy (from Pose) joining as Mavacity, the production feels both nostalgic and fresh. What many people don’t realize is that Ballroom culture has always been about reclaiming space and visibility. By bringing it to Broadway, Cats: The Jellicle Ball is doing more than entertaining—it’s amplifying a marginalized voice.
The Ballroom Renaissance: More Than Just a Trend
If you take a step back and think about it, the rise of Ballroom culture in mainstream media isn’t just a coincidence. Shows like Pose and now this revival of Cats are part of a larger cultural shift. Ballroom isn’t just about dancing; it’s a lifeline for queer and trans people of color, a space where they can be seen, celebrated, and unapologetically themselves. This revival feels like a natural extension of that movement, bringing Ballroom’s ethos to a broader audience.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the production’s use of dance music-inspired beats, courtesy of Trevor Holder. It’s not just a gimmick; it’s a way to honor the roots of Ballroom while keeping the show contemporary. Personally, I think this blend of old and new is what makes Cats: The Jellicle Ball so compelling. It’s not just a musical—it’s a cultural statement.
The Broader Implications: What This Revival Really Means
This raises a deeper question: What does it mean when a mainstream institution like Broadway embraces a subculture like Ballroom? In my opinion, it’s a sign of progress, but it’s also a reminder of how often marginalized communities have to fight for recognition. Ballroom culture didn’t become mainstream overnight; it took decades of activism, artistry, and resilience. This revival feels like a tribute to that struggle, but it also risks commodifying a culture that has always been about resistance.
What this really suggests is that Broadway is finally catching up to the diversity of its audience. But it’s not enough to just include Ballroom elements—the industry needs to ensure that the people behind these cultures are also given a seat at the table. The creative team behind Cats: The Jellicle Ball, including voguing choreographers Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons, is a step in the right direction. But it’s just the beginning.
Final Thoughts: A Revival Worth Watching
As someone who’s always been fascinated by the intersection of art and culture, I’m genuinely excited about Cats: The Jellicle Ball. It’s not perfect—no revival ever is—but it’s ambitious, thought-provoking, and unapologetically bold. What makes it stand out is its willingness to challenge our expectations of what a Broadway musical can be.
If you’re still on the fence about seeing it, I’d say go with an open mind. This isn’t your parents’ Cats. It’s a reflection of our times, a celebration of queer culture, and a reminder that art can—and should—evolve. Whether it’s a masterpiece or a misstep, one thing’s for sure: Cats: The Jellicle Ball is a conversation starter, and that’s exactly what theater should be.
