Tim Burke

For a very small niche of society, furries and musical theatre lovers, Cats will be like porn, destined for midnight screenings in failing independent cinemas where everyone turns up in long coats hiding their furry fetish costumes only to drop them at the dimming of the lights and start writhing around on the floor with each other sniffing butts at that front open area of the cinema that is usually left for the screaming child of the meth heads coming down in the back row. For everyone else Cats begs just one question, “Why?”