“Cats” isn’t quite the unmitigated disaster that some feared – or perversely hoped – but it’s not good, delivering a mostly incoherent adaptation of the long-running musical. An eclectic roster of ...

I'm going to preface this review by saying that I have made it more than thirty years of life without seeing or experiencing CATS beyond "Memory." This was a new experience. CATS is the poetry of T.S.

Given that it contains dozens of digitally smoothed-out crotches, a chorus line of “tiny human-faced cockroaches” (to borrow a suitably nightmarish phrase from my colleague Justin Chang) and the sight ...