I first saw Cats in the West End in 1993, when I was around the age my daughters are now. I was mesmerised by the music, spectacular dancing and cats prowling through the auditorium. More than three decades later, it remains one of my most vivid childhood memories.

Taking my daughters, now nine and seven, to see Drew McOnie’s new production at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre inevitably brought back memories of that first visit. Yet this is emphatically not a revival trading on nostalgia. McOnie, who both directs and choreographs, has created a Cats with a distinctive identity of its own.

Regent’s Park is an atmospheric home for the show. On a summer evening, as the light gradually fades and the surrounding trees recede into darkness, the natural surroundings become increasingly integral to what is happening on stage. The cats seem to emerge naturally into this nocturnal world, and by nightfall the Open Air Theatre feels far removed from the London beyond it.

Based on T. S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, the musical famously dispenses with a conventional narrative. Instead, we are introduced to the assorted members of the Jellicle tribe, who have gathered for the Jellicle Ball. Before the night is over, their leader Old Deuteronomy will choose one cat to ascend to the Heaviside Layer and begin a new life.

What follows is a succession of eccentric characters. There is the swaggering Rum Tum Tugger; mischievous Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer; magical Mr Mistoffelees; railway cat Skimbleshanks; the fearsome Macavity; elderly theatrical grandee Gus; and, of course, the lonely Grizabella, shunned by the other cats and yearning to be accepted once more.

Dance has always been fundamental to Cats, and this is where McOnie’s interpretation is at its most exhilarating. As both director and choreographer, he makes movement the principal means through which the characters reveal themselves. His choreography incorporates contemporary and street dance, acrobatics and breakdancing alongside more familiar musical-theatre forms, giving this incarnation a freshness that feels entirely natural.

The ensemble is outstanding. The performers stalk, stretch, leap and tumble across the stage with impressive athleticism, while retaining the individual quirks that make Eliot’s cats so memorable. The large ensemble sequences are full of flair and vivacity, with the Jellicle Ball a particular standout.

Jaydon Vijn is hugely charismatic as Rum Tum Tugger, embracing the character’s rock-star swagger and comic self-regard, while Jet Yau is an impressively agile Mr Mistoffelees. Matthew Caputo brings infectious energy to Skimbleshanks, while Katie Dunsden plays the gloriously named Bombalurina with aplomb. Danny Nattrass and Briana Craig are tremendous fun as the delinquent duo Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.

Melanie La Barrie brings warmth and authority to Old Deuteronomy, while Gary Wilmot gives Gus the Theatre Cat a touching sense of melancholy. His recollections of a theatrical career now long behind him provide one of the evening’s quieter, more poignant moments.

At the emotional heart of Cats, however, is Grizabella. At our performance, Rachael Wooding was ill and the role was taken by her understudy, Taziva-Faye Katsande, who ordinarily plays Tantomile. Katsande gives a remarkable performance. With her smudged lipstick, stricken expression and almost painfully frail appearance, her Grizabella is visually affecting even before she begins to sing. The contrast when she does is striking: from this seemingly fragile figure comes a voice of extraordinary power, richness and mellifluous beauty. Her rendition of “Memory” is electrifying, her voice building from vulnerability to a magnificent, soaring climax. It is an unforgettable performance and one of the triumphs of the evening.

Sami Fendall’s design makes imaginative use of the outdoor space. A metallic crescent rises among torn branches, while Jessica Hung Han Yun’s lighting becomes increasingly important as daylight disappears. Smoke, flashes of light and bursts of pyrotechnics add to the spectacle without overwhelming it. The staging has a bolder, more modern quality than the Cats many audiences will remember.

The costumes also avoid straightforward feline impersonation. Instead, they suggest the characters through texture, silhouette and detail, leaving much of the transformation to the performers’ movement and physicality.

Lloyd Webber’s score remains remarkably eclectic. Jazz, rock, music hall, classical influences and musical theatre sit alongside one another, while Eliot’s eccentric language gives the show a character unlike any other musical. “The Old Gumbie Cat”, “Macavity: The Mystery Cat”, “Mr Mistoffelees” and “Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat” remain irresistible.

There is also a great deal here for children. My daughters were completely absorbed, particularly by the dancing, comedy and physicality of the show. Cats does not ask younger audience members to follow a complicated plot; instead, it offers a succession of distinctive characters, songs and visually arresting set pieces.

Seeing it again reminded me why the show had made such an impression on me as a child. Cats is unapologetically strange. It follows its own rules and inhabits its own world, without feeling the need to behave like a conventional musical. That eccentricity remains one of its greatest strengths. McOnie has managed the difficult feat of respecting what made Cats such a phenomenon while giving it a convincing new life. There are echoes of the version generations grew up with, not least in the central importance of dance, but there is no attempt simply to recreate the past.

McOnie respects what made Cats such a phenomenon while giving it a convincing new life for a new generation. More than four decades after its London premiere, the musical remains unlike anything else in the West End canon. Inventive, visually striking and brilliantly choreographed, this is a triumphant revival, with Regent’s Park an inspired home for its return to London.

Cats
Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, London
Until 19 September 2026