Cats

I hesitate to suggest that Tom Hooper's Cats produced its desired affects upon its audience, insofar as laughter was consistently generated within the theatre where I recently saw it, but that's not necessarily a bad thing if entertainment value is taken into account, for that very same audience no doubt foolhardily enjoyed themselves, even if their applause was critically attuned to camp as opposed to melodrama.

Is there a difference?

That would be a fun essay to write (in detail).

I would argue that Cats sets out to romantically investigate life on a thriving fringe, within a talented artistic community, independently predisposed.

It's a wonderful idea.

It introduces a variety of vigorous individuals who have taken the time to melodiously compose themselves, in preparation for a carnivalesque soirée, abounding with life and perhaps reincarnation.

A wicked cat who jealously seeks to live again nefariously disrupts the proceedings with cruel and covetous intent.

The historical social interactions of the innovative neighbourhood are observed by a fascinated newcomer who's introduced after emerging astray.

The songs are sung very well, there's no denying the musical talent, the robust sincere efficacious concerned camaraderie erupting with ecstatic charm.

But they rarely stop, there isn't much intermittent dialogue, and I'm afraid they're somewhat abstruse, or lack helpful points of clarification.

It's not that you can't figure out what's going on or find yourself lost within a byzantine delirium, but if you're not familiar with the story beforehand, you may find it somewhat obscured in the opening numbers, which are rather wordy if not longwinded, and lack sturdy lucid foundations.

Even if they are cats.

But they are cats, and there are a bunch of cool animated felines singing and dancing with paramount glamour, so if you aren't worried about what's actually going on, you have recourse to the wild absurdity.

Even though it's just a bit garrulous, I still wondered if it was primarily made for children, because the cat expressions employed fall flat throughout, but may appeal to the more innocently minded, if they're seeing a musical for the very first time.

The constant close-ups too, which seem like they're trying to generate wonder, but often cause people to burst out laughing, don't worry, the same thing happens to me.

So the melodrama's there, Cats at least approaches serious subjects with a touch that's light of heart, and leaves room for scandal and intrigue as it proceeds with the best intentions.

But if it's meant to be taken seriously, and I can't really see that happening, even if it improves as Ian McKellen (Gus the Theatre Cat) begins to sing, and there's a wonderful break where's there's no singing at all, just dancing, it may not universally succeed, although my hypothesis could be way off.

Nevertheless, films that are meant to be taken seriously which create serious comic appeal can be transformed into cherished camp, if the audience is there and willing.

The audience whom I watched Cats with was overflowing with playful cheer.

Is it always that way with melodrama?

To tell you the truth, I'm far from certain.

But people get angry if you don't take what they're taking seriously sometimes.

A matter of perspective, I try to keep quiet.