Jellicle cats come out tonight
jellicle cats come one come all
the jellicle moon is shining bright
jellicles come to the jellicle ball
With an all-star cast like its revolutionary prédecesseur, the mewsical of this winter season took us to the streets of interbellum London in the light of the supermoon that the Jellicle clan counts its rendezvous balls by. Unlike Les Mis or Beauty and the Beast, the source material for Cats is poetry instead of prose, so the lyrics were handed down to WestEnders on a platinum platter and all that was to do was compose the tunes, each one suited to the personality of the neko in question - thus, a cast of diverse personalities ensues, and all of these cats could have been people you may at least slightly know: the fallen woman who loiters leaning against a street lamp, the trickster twin siblings always up to their neck in shenanigans, the old thespian who now plays King Lear and such senex characters but lives on memories of his all-star lead roles (I felt that the song was every bit about Sir Ian McKellen as about his character Aspara-Gus!), the perfectionistic efficient train conductor who ensures that nothing on board goes off the rails, the wise old sage who is still alive as venerable head of a dynasty (again, the same song-performer analogy for Dame Judi Dench and old rule 63:d Deuteronomy), and so forth.
My first contact with Cats, long before the film, was as an adolescent during long road trips across Scandinavia with the recording cassette on. My paternal family of four had been to London town and seen the live show back when both dad and his bro were in their teens as well, and brought the cassette along to Sweden as a keepsake. So in the late 2000s (I think it was) I took it with me, chucked it in, and listened curiously:
There's a whisper down the line
at 11:39
when the Night Mail train's ready to depart
saying "SKIMBLE? WHERE IS SKIMBLE?"
...and the rest was history. I was there, thinking myself at the same King's Cross from which the steam-powered Hogwarts Express leaves and in the same age of steam locomotives, with all the staff combing the entire station until, finally,
At 11:42
with the signal overdue
and the passengers all frantic to a man...
That's when I would appear
and saunter to the rear:
I've been busy in the luggage van!
Then he gave one flash of his large green (actually "glass-green"; misheard lyric!) eyes
and the signal went "ALL CLEAR!"
Still today I have the song on the brain, especially since seeing the film, even though I'm a tad disappointed about those lyrics/poem lines that didn't make the cut into the screen version for want of time -- most relevantly, Skimble's drop of scotch and his rundown of the London-Glasgow line. The former verses show that there is more character depth to the ostensible perfectionistic control freak, ie that he can enjoy a drink - but not in excess, being well aware that he's an efficient train conductor on active duty:
In the watches of the night
I was always fresh and bright;
every now and then I had a cup of tea
with perhaps a drop of scotch
while I was keeping on the watch...
While the latter passage shows that he knows the railway line by heart --much like I know the Valencia-Castellón line from three or four university years of commuting-- (in fact, you can mark all the places mentioned in these lyrics/verses below on Google Earth - Gallowgate is Glasgow Railway Station - and follow a route from King's Cross in London to Gallowgate in Glasgow!), and not only more proofs of his efficiency, but also how much he cares about the train, staff, and passengers:
They were fast asleep at Crewe,
and so they never knew
that I was walking up and down the station...
they were sleeping all the while
I was busy at Carlisle
where I met the station master with ELATION!! (PS. Skimble taught me the word - anytime you read about anyone elated in my fics, you know whom to thank)
They might see me at Dumfries,
where I summoned the police
if there was anything they ought to know about...
When they got to Gallowgate
there they did not have to wait,
for SKIMBLESHANKS WOULD HELP THEM TO GET O-U-T!!!
So I was and am a bit cross that those lines in particular were not added to the film adaptation. They could at least have kept him sipping that cuppa laced with a drop of scotch (and, for an extra plus, maybe shown a map or route of the railway line as well, with Skimble-Steve pointing out each station as he sang what he does there?). Skimble-Steve tapdancing and twirling on the rail and wearing that conductor's uniform like a glove is all badass, but they could at least have iced the cake some more...
(To count a point of influence that has not to be forgotten in Dermarkian lore: In Les Mis/Wizarding World AU The Seed of the Hanged / El semen de los ahorcados, notably, Skimbleshanks is the conductor on the Hogwarts Express - as one out of several crossover cameos from author favourites - and plays a key role in some installments)
Sometimes all it takes at the start of these poems turned lyrics is an establishing character moment. In this jaunty number that is constantly allegro con brio due to its railway setting, Skimbleshanks is introduced as being slightly delayed due to overseeing the luggage - while this made the entire station despair in the meantime (even though it was less than a quarter of an hour). Jenny Anydots is phlegmatic by day because she teaches her vermin life skills in the nighttime, but at first she is introduced in diurnal mode, and even the tune changes in the stanza/day to refrain/night transition from lethargic adagio to allegro ma non troppo (not as jaunty as Skimble's but nevertheless action-packed), from lullaby to swing, to reflect this double life:
I have a gumbie cat in mind,
her name is Jenny Anydots;
the curtain cord she likes to wind
and tie it into sailor knots...
She sits upon a windowsill
or anywhere that's smooth and flat...
she sits and sits and sits and sits
and that's what makes a gumbie cat!
But when the day's hustle and bustle is done
then the gumbie cat's work is but hardly begun;
she thinks that the cockroaches need: Employment,
to prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment!
Similarly, the fashionable and obese aristocat Bustopher Jones is introduced with a classical-eighteenth-century-sounding moderato tune, that sounds like him striding with a slight wobble, and an understatement about his weight/waistline:
Bustopher Jones
is not skin and bones:
in fact he's remarkably
fat.
He doesn't haunt pubs,
he has eight or nine clubs,
for he's the St. James' Street Cat.
And so on for most of the general cast, with their appearance and their tunes, and even sound effects (the train whistles in the sleeping-car section of Skimbleshanks being the most obvious!), reflecting the personalities given in their respective poems/lyrics. The characterisations in the tunes and the settings, to fit the respective lyrics, give the diverse cast of Cats a Shakespearean air, true to the source poemary.
But it's the character arc of fallen woman Grizabella, not that different from Fantine, and her power ballad Memory that give the most psychological insight, both in the dark first installment and in the optimistic reprise:
(First Installment)
Every street lamp seems to beat
a fatalistic warning...
Someone mutters
in the street lamp gutters
and soon it will be morning!
Memory...
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember
the time I knew what happiness was...
Let the memory
live again!
(Optimistic Reprise)
The streetlamp dies,
another night is over,
another day is dawning!
Daylight...
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
and I musn't give in!
When the dawn comes
tonight will be a memory too
And a new day
will begin...
There's a whole tragic-heroine-subversion character arc here; maybe for a Les Mis AU of Fantine's character arc where she makes it through consumption, marries Valjean, and all three live happily ever after, for these kindly adults raise Cosette together! It's like a brighter mirror image of the tragedy of Fantine, showing that there is hope and respite for the fallen women...
Notably, the film shows Aspara-Gus and Growltiger as distinct characters, unlike the stage version that presents us them on a show within the show, altering the original theatre cat's poem verse "I once played a tiger" to "I once played Growltiger" to segue into that premise. The film subverts this, showing Gus and Growltiger (originally the second lead character he played) as different cats who interact with one another... which raises the possibility of a biography à clef. On screen, the pirate captain kept all of MacCavity's prisoners on his boat in the middle of the Thames and was defeated by all their combined efforts, but it was 'Gus who gave the coup de grâce by forcing Growltiger to walk the plank and make his last splash with his best rendition of THE FIEND OF THE FELL!! (who is the title role of a show within a show in the film). I can picture myself the old thespian cat writing down his swan song for the stage in preparation for the next Jellicle Ball, in which he will star in Growltiger's Last Stand and will be the chosen one to ascend to the Heaviside Layer - thanks to an action-packed tragedy on the high seas about the romance between the fierce, infamous pirate captain Growltiger and his lovely ladylove Lady Griddlebone, one of MacCavity's perky female minions, who betrayed him to the enemy till he was forced to walk the plank.
Yasss, we're speaking of Gus penning a biography à clef just like in so many 1990s Recycled: The Series episodes with the biography à clef premise -- to give some examples: Hercules and the Trojan War, episode 26 with Helen being whisked away by the Trojan Academy students, Adonis sulking like Achilles, and even the gift horse, and Homerus as a news reporter covering the Greeks' rescue mission; the Little Mermaid's episode 22 Metal Fish, in which Hans Christian Andersen and his pet cat, on board the titular bathysphere, are saved from decompression/drowning and returned to terra firma by Ariel and friends; Tarzan and the Mysterious Visitor, episode 35 in which Edgar Rice Burroughs comes over from the US to Darkest Africa to investigate reported sightings of an ape-man for the press of his home country as well as inspiration for his adventure novels; and, going from Disney to anime, the Kaiketsu Zorro episode 36 ついにバレた！ゾロの正体!? / Tsuinibareta! Zorro no shōtai!?, in which a young Johnston McCulley, who went to boarding school in Barcelona together with Diego de la Vega, shows up at the latter's hometown looking for literary inspiration and finds himself roped into El Zorro's freedom fighting. Because the artist or author of the source material is well-known, someone decides to make a biographical work anyway and this leaves writers and producers scratching their heads how to make it work. And one way to do it is mix the artist's/author's life with their fiction. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote Detective Fiction, so have him investigate real murders and more or less play Sherlock Holmes, with a Watson and all. Here's Charles Dickens having a terrible childhood like Oliver Twist, leaving for London, having his pocket picked by the Artful Dodger, or an Expy of him, who makes Dickens think "I Should Write a Book About This. The Dark Tales series is a gothic take on the biography à clef, with E.A. Poe investigating the sinister, mysterious events allegedly based upon future Poe stories. Works using this trope vary from being sly and playful, to straight drama to outright MetaFiction. While examples of this trope do exist in earlier times, it certainly took off big time in the 20th Century, where psychology and other ideas made many people try and analyse works of art as an expression of the artist's personality. Biography à Clef more or less makes that subtext literal; in this premise, the real life of artists is presented with a key via their interactions with the inspirations for their fictional creations. Apparently, the Recycled: The Series premise always finds, if it's an animated adaptation of a film that is a literary adaptation in turn, the chance to squeeze the author in as a one-episode character of the week and have him interact with the cast of the show based upon his characters in a metafictional way. This is what a biography à clef is... and thus I picture myself, within film canon, Aspara-Gus in the title role in Growltiger's Last Stand, the final show and farewell to both life and the stage that he wrote inspired, like Cervantes, by his own experience in pirate captivity.
The main setting of the film is a little district theatre with a theme of Pharaonic Egypt going on and even called the Egyptian Theatre, both from outside and on the stage itself --the theme of sacred cats goes really well with the premise of the show--, though the characters change to some other places in London (Piccadilly Circus, King's Cross Station, Trafalgar Square, a gentlemen's club, the posh townhouse that 'Jerry and 'Teazer turn inside out...) as the story unfurls, cutting between settings as a way to establish the home/habitat of each and every individual.
Of course I was flabberghasted by the climax; catnip raining from the theatre ceiling from a moon stage prop, courtesy of MacCavity's perky female minions, including a prominent popstar of last decade - not even Gus and Skimble are immune to absorbing the drug and showing signs of effect, and thus Deuteronomy is quickly whisked away until Mr. Mistoffeles brings her, and all the other Jellicle prisoners, back - although he has little confidence in the reach of his powers and everyone who remains at the Egyptian has to sing Misto's theme to encourage him:
Oh! Well!
Never was there ever
a cat so clever
as Magical Mr. Mistoffeles!
And the encouragement works, with surprise effects - I think Misto, like Elsa and the X-Men, has only got a case of adolescent power-controlling failure and has been repressing his supernatural abilities for too long - but unleashing them in a burst at the right hour comes in handy; time waits for no one, after all!
Speaking of Misto, he and Victoria look like the bride and groom on a western-style straight wedding cake (she is white and he's tux), and we got a lot of Mistoria (Mistoffeles*Victoria) moments that did not disappoint us... they're the closest thing to a canon couple we get in the cast of this film, actually. Victoria herself is the naïve newcomer to the Jellicle clan, the ingénue, our audience surrogate. Her friendship with the more experienced and jaded Grizabella is brilliant - the innocent adolescent and her broken, older counterpart are true foils that make each other shine even brighter when together.
We even learn Grizabella's backstory, something not expanded in the stage show, on the silver screen: she was seduced by the sinister pimp-looking master criminal MacCavity and left the Jellicle clan to become his partner in crime... but he left her for younger and perkier female minions, leaving her in the lurch to fend for herself on her own, with no humans to adopt her and the Jellicles rejecting her as a traitor. Read between the lines and you get an age-old story of female tragedy - think of Fantine, or of the French Lieutenant's Woman, in neko form.
Which makes the young and innocent Victoria's lilting sweet song to Grizabella, Beautiful Ghosts, even more cathartic and heartwarming; the innocent adolescent ingénue and her broken, older counterpart are true foils that make each other shine even brighter when together. Not an eye will be dry at the end of this song, that, just like its counterpart Memory, is guaranteed to tie your heartstrings into a knot:
All that I wanted
was to be wanted;
too young to wander London streets alone and haunted...
Born into nothing,
at least you had something...
something to cling to...
visions of dazzling rooms I'll never get let into...
And the memories were lost long ago,
but at least you have beautiful ghosts...
Victoria has always been a stray orphan - Grizabella has had a social life before her coat turn and the consequences thereof. She has the memories her younger counterpart has not, those "beautiful ghosts" - and thus, both female outsiders, in spite of their differences, admire what one another has.
SPOILERS AHEAD! Highlight for spoilers!
A lot of catharsis and excitement came during the epic finale in which MacCavity seized the ropes of the montgolfière that would carry Grizabella up to the Heaviside Layer and her future reincarnation... but his grip slipped and he fell stranded into the bicorn of Lord Nelson, on the topmost top of the column of Trafalgar Square, while all the Jellicles gathered at the foot of the column's majestic, massive lions as the sun gradually rose over everyone in the capital and the cast took its leave of us at dawn in chorus - just like in Les Misérables when TO-MO-RROW COMES!!! This was exactly the same breathtaking impression, only that the Jellicle clan sang a different coda line:
AND THAT'S HOW YOU AD-DRESS A CAT!!!
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