Original London Cast, 1981 (Geffen)
(4 / 5) Before it became a joke, Cats was a true phenomenon. While Trevor Nunn’s direction placed spectacle above emotion and story, the show has a better score than it’s usually given credit for. T. S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats may not have been a natural choice for musicalization; still, Andrew Lloyd Webber found some remarkably creative ways to get Eliot’s feline characters to sing, whether in the style of straight-out pop (“The Rum Tum Tugger”), mock-operetta (“Growltiger’s Last Stand”), or a host of others. The magical (and highly electronic) overture, the rapidly shifting strains of the lengthy first-act Jellicle Ball, and the lush finale “The Ad-Dressing of Cats” all help to make this a musical theater score full of variety and invention. Even the now standard “Memory” works within the weird universe created by the half-posthumous collaboration of Eliot and Lloyd Webber. Here, that song is delivered beautifully by West End diva Elaine Paige as Grizabella, the Glamour Cat — the character who ties together the show’s story about junkyard strays meeting to decide which of them will be reborn into a new, presumably better life. Paul Nicholas’ Rum Tum Tugger, Brian Blessed’s Old Deuteronomy (and Bustopher Jones), and Kenn Wells’ Skimbleshanks also provide lots of fun. This recording of Cats captures the ineffably English tone of the piece, and is a highly entertaining listen. — Matthew Murray
Original Broadway Cast, 1983 (Geffen)
(4 / 5) One of the longest-running musicals in Broadway history, Cats is also the most inherently English of all the mega-musicals of its era, and so the unconvincing Brit accents and American vocal mannerisms of the original Broadway company do not lend this recording much authenticity. Still, with a cast this good, it barely matters. Betty Buckley is a worthy successor to Elaine Paige as Grizabella, and her “Memory” is one of the most powerful on record. (Many singers have recorded the song as a stand-alone piece.) Ken Page is particularly charming as Old Deuteronomy; future stars Terrence Mann and Harry Groener do very good work as the Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap; and Timothy Scott and Anna McNeely as Mr. Mistoffelees and Jennyanydots are delightful. Of special note is Stephen Hanan, whose hilarious Bustopher Jones, heartbreaking Gus, and dynamic Growltiger make him a standout. As is the case with the London album, this one is missing a certain amount of material, including some dance music and “The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles.” But the superb cast and knockout orchestra, under the musical direction of Stanley Lebowsky, make it sound fresher and more vibrant than its predecessor. — M.M.
Film Soundtrack, 2020 (Republic) No stars; not recommended. Tom Hooper’s film adaptation of Cats is a true movie musical disaster, the director providing a master class in how to make every wrong artistic decision from the word “go.” As he did with his film version of Les Mis, Hooper once again required his cast, packed with misused talent, to sing live on set, so as to make the performances seem more “authentic” and less “fantastical.” Did no one tell him this was Cats? Part of what made the stage musical a worldwide phenomenon was its ability to take audiences away from reality; not since Attenborough’s A Chorus Line has a director so misunderstood the assignment. Even without watching the CGI hellscape that Hooper created on screen, one can understand why the film is so critically maligned just from listening to this soundtrack album. Every song is sung with trepidation, as if the cast is never sure what their starting note is or if they’ll even have the breath support to get through it. Performers such as Rebel Wilson (“The Old Gumbie Cat”), Laurie Davidson (“Mr. Mistoffelees”), and Sir Ian McKellen (“Gus: The Theatre Cat”) play with the rhythms and note values of their songs so much that they’re practically unidentifiable. The enlarged orchestrations are fussier and somehow sound more dated than the 80’s originals. A new song for the movie, “Beautiful Ghosts,” was written by Webber and Taylor Swift (who also makes a brief appearance singing “Macavity”) and is sung by a clearly embarrassed Francesca Hayward as Victoria; Swift’s lyrics are filled with empty poetry, and Webber’s melody evaporates into the air. On the credit side, Jason Derulo has fun as Rum Tum Tugger, and Jennifer Hudson delivers a solid if not exceptional “Memory.” But with iconic renditions by Elaine Paige and Betty Buckley already preserved, a solid “Memory” isn’t enough to make this soundtrack even tolerable. Better it be taken to the pound. — Matt Koplik


(3 / 5) Caroline, or Change was not properly appreciated when it premiered on Broadway in 2004, as its complex and uncompromising presentation of race relations proved a hard sell for many audiences and critics. In the years since, the musical’s themes have only grown more relevant, and the quality of the material has finally been recognized by its winning the Best Musical Olivier Award for the London premiere production (a transfer from Broadway) and then, years later, via a much-lauded London revival that eventually was brought to Broadway by the Roundabout Theatre Company. That production yielded this new cast recording, and since the revival made many critics change their tune about this near-opera and give it the high praise it always deserved, you’d think that the cast recording would rival or even surpass the original. But while the singing here is stronger overall (Caissie Levy, in particular, is wildly overqualified vocally for the role of Rose Stopnick), there’s a controlled, studied quality to the proceedings that keeps the album from greatness. While director Michael Longhurst’s production included more elaborate staging than George C. Wolfe’s original, and featured some odd design choices, the recording shows that this revival was extremely faithful to the material as written and performed in 2004, even using the same flawless orchestrations. Joseph Joubert, a co-orchestrator on the original, is on hand as music director, conducting the score crisply but with little fire. Sharon D. Clarke, the lone British performer who transferred with the production, is perhaps more in command of her voice than Pinkins, but her Caroline seems more calculatedly mean; whereas the character’s unpleasantness in Pinkins’ performance seemed to stem from pain and exhaustion, Clarke’s Caroline often sounds like a brooding shark, lying in wait to snap at anyone who crosses her path. It’s an interesting interpretation of the role, though arguably less engaging. On the other hand, Tamika Lawrence proves to be a scene stealer as Dotty, and Harper Miles, Nya, and Nasia Thomas tear into the collective role of The Radio with vocal ferocity. For a work as richly rewarding as Caroline, any new interpretation is welcome; so if this recording doesn’t surpass the original, it’s well-enough done to stand alongside it as a point of comparison and an opportunity to explore more facets to this masterwork. — Matt Koplik
(2 / 5) Stephen Sondheim’s first new musical in nearly a decade, Bounce was highly anticipated when it played Chicago and Washington in 2003. Though this recording benefits from the lack of John Weidman’s book, the score doesn’t sound appreciably better here than it did onstage, despite a good orchestra conducted by David Caddick and a top-notch cast including Howard McGillin, Richard Kind, Michele Pawk, Gavin Creel, Herndon Lackey, and Jane Powell. What’s missing is a sense of vivid inspiration, although there are a few nice selections. The title song, sung by McGillin and Kind, is catchy; McGillin and Pawk have an attractive duet in “The Best Thing That Ever Has Happened”; and “Addison’s City” and “Boca Raton” make up an entertaining musical scene that chronicles the Florida land boom. Otherwise, the music has uncomfortable echoes of Sondheim’s superior work in such shows as Sweeney Todd(a vamp in the title song recalls “By the Sea”) and Merrily we Roll Along (Jonathan Tunick’s orchestrations could have been lifted from that show). There’s much here to appreciate, but little to love; Sondheim’s previous scores set the bar so high that a middling effort like this one just doesn’t seem quite good enough. [Ed. Note: Sondheim and Weidman later rewrote this show and retitled it Road Show; see separate review of the recording of that version.] — Matthew Murray











(5 / 5) Jim Wise, George Haimsohn, and Robin Miller’s ingenious salute to the Busby Berkeley movie musicals of the early ’30s never hits a false note. The show’s spoofing is so expert and affectionate that its first production in a Greenwich Village cafe soon made its way to the Bouwerie Lane and then to the Theatre de Lys, where it ran and ran. This album replaces the show’s two-piano accompaniment with wonderful full-orchestra arrangements by Jonathan Tunick, an orchestrator as talented as the hopefuls onstage. The central joke of the original production was staging huge production numbers in a tiny space with a cast of six. Of those original players, only Bernadette Peters went on to stardom. While she’s an adorable Ruby, the others are just as expert and lovable: Tamara Long’s temperamental star; Sally Stark’s best-buddy blonde; Steve Elmore as the producer and sea captain; and David Christmas as Dick, a songwriting sailor (“Why, I can see it now! As if it were happening on this very stage!”). As Lucky, Joseph R. Sicari partners Stark nimbly in “Choo-Choo Honeymoon” and is ingratiating in “Singapore Sue.” A nod to the CD booklet’s evocative production stills and to Marc Kirkeby’s smart notes. — Marc Miller









(1 / 5) Tim Robbins’ film Cradle Will Rock (no “The”) tells the story of the original production intermingled with other plots concerning art and censorship. About half of this CD is devoted to songs from the original show; the other half is new music composed for the film by David Robbins. “Moll’s Song” (sung by Emily Watson), “Croon Spoon” (Eddie Vetter and Susan Sarandon), “Honolulu” (Erin Hill, Dan Jenkins, Vicki Clark, Tim Jerome), “Reverend Salvation” (Vicki Clark and Chris McKinney), “The Freedom of the Press” (Henry Stram and Tim Jerome), and “Art for Art’s Sake” are all here in unedited form, plus Audra McDonald’s compelling rendition of “Joe Worker.” (Other songs in the film are not on the CD.) In the notes for the recording, David Robbins writes: “The arrangements you hear are, for the most part, Blitzstein’s original orchestrations.” This may be technically true, but because the orchestra here consists of only 12 instruments with a single violin, the score has more of a Brecht-Weill sound than the operatic heft that Blitzstein intended. The disc begins with an awful rendition of “Nickel Under the Foot,” heard in the film over the end titles, but don’t let this one disgraceful track keep you from exploring the pleasures of the recording. — J.D.













