Fun of ‘Cats Las Vegas’ is infectious

But that doesn’t lessen the monotony of the music, nor the awkward way the lyrics sit on the notes, nor the horror of hearing T.S. Eliot’s poetry set to gut-busting puffery.

With that in mind, though, you don’t need to like "Cats" to like "Cats Las Vegas."

The Las Vegas Academy of International Studies, Performing and Visual Arts production places the songs in a neon graveyard. Thom Bumblauskas’ design gives us a fine balance of glamour and neglect. It seems to be the sort of hangout strays would love to patronize.

Co-directors Glenn Edwards (who came up with the Vegas concept) and Tammy Pessagno wisely keep things light and fast. Some of the major characters are modeled after local icons.

The one plot point — the choosing of which feline will earn passage to cat heaven — comes off less silly than usual since the entire spirit of this show invites us to enjoy silliness. We feel as if we’re watching lounge singers carefully oozing self-mocking charm. And the 58-member cast, backed by a 34-member orchestra, does charm well.

Pessagno’s choreography is playful and detailed. She gives the big numbers the dazzle they need. The major footwork down center often is accompanied by parallel movements in the corners of the stage. It helps you feel that the dances you’re witnessing are not just production numbers but glimpses into someone else’s world.

During the quiet moments, the performers, when sitting still, don’t sit still like humans. They often slightly change positions every few seconds in a never-ending quest to get comfortable. I frequently found myself recognizing my own cat in the actors’ physical actions.

There are many gems in the huge cast, and the ensemble nature of the script allows a large number of students to have at least one well-deserved moment in the spotlight. I particularly enjoyed dance major Arielle Panrae for her carefree attitude and precision as the mischievous Rumpleteazer.

But the cast as a whole exudes exuberance, and I would imagine audiences’ favorites will vary widely. You never get the sense of anyone working hard, though this kind of effortlessness never comes easy.

The fun is so infectious that even the anti-Lloyd Webber crusaders may find themselves smiling against their better judgment.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.