Jellicle cats come one come all -
jellicle cats come out tonight
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 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 old 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 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 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 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 a 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 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 on the rail or 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 from lethargic adagio to allegro con brio (not as jaunty as Skimble's but nevertheless action-packed), from lullaby to something ragtime style, 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 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.
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:
the catnip raining from the ceiling
epic finale in which MacCavity...
jellicle cats come out tonight
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 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 old 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 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 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 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 a 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 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 on the rail or 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 from lethargic adagio to allegro con brio (not as jaunty as Skimble's but nevertheless action-packed), from lullaby to something ragtime style, 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 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.
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:
the catnip raining from the ceiling
epic finale in which MacCavity...