REVIEW: By Tim Robey
Pre-judging Cats based on the widely ridiculed trailers wouldn't be fair, especially once you realise they did it a lot of favours... they hid the big numbers; they silenced the singing; minimised were James Corden's wobbly pratfalls into piles of dead fish, Idris Elba's leering expressions and Ian McKellen's entire role as Gus the Theatre Cat.
Once seen, the only realistic way to fix Cats would be to spay it, or simply pretend it never happened. Because it's an all-time disaster - a rare and star-spangled calamity which will leave jaws littered across floors and agents unemployed. For the first time since the head-spinningly dire dadcom Old Dogs in 2010, I'm giving a film no stars.
At every turn, you imagine the panicked justifications. Andrew Lloyd Webber's stage musical ran for 21 years in the West End and has grossed $3.5 billion worldwide. Memory, sung by the depressed ex-glamour cat Grizabella, is a household favourite even your gran has covered. All of Tom Hooper's last three films have won Oscars, somehow, and doesn't the eclectic cast have something for everyone? It becomes a scramble to get out alive. What worked in the round off Drury Lane in 1981 - a suspension of disbelief, with the whole cast pirouetting in cat-suits - has been converted into a computer-aided hellscape so off-putting you may suspect eye failure.