The Cat Club Review

Cat Club

Through Dec. 1 at the Yale Cabaret, 217 Park St., New Haven. (203) 432-1566, www.yalecabaret.org

Created by Paul Lieber, Timothy Hassler, Benjamin Fainstein, Hansol Jung and Kate Tarker. Music & lyrics by Lieber & Hassler. Directed by Fainstein. Costume Designer: K.J. Kim. Lighting Designer: Solomon Weisbard. Sound Designer: Palmer. Assistant Sound Designer/Mixer: Tyler Kieffer. Video Designer: Michael F. Bergmann. Technical Director: Matthew Groenveld. Stage Manager: Will Rucker. Producer: Caitie Hannon. Performed by Lieber (Cat) and Hassler (Cat).

When considering Cat Club at the Yale Cabaret, it’s useful to read this informative article

http://yaledailynews.com/blog/2012/11/29/cat-club-highlights-cabaret/

by Anya Grenier from Thursday’s Yale Daily News. It’s a more substantial piece about theater process than that august student publication tends to run. It mostly makes the point that the Cabaret allows the creators of its shows (which average nine per semester) a chance to develop in a manner which often runs counter to what they are being taught to do as students at the Yale School of Drama.

Back when I first started going to the Cabaret regularly, some 20 years ago, this would have been an obvious point, one not worth making. Cabaret shows were frantic and slapdash. That was their appeal. Over time as a market for fringe, cabaret, installation-based and other small-scale theater pieces developed in New York and elsewhere, Yale Cabaret shows became more and more elaborate.

So Cat Club reminds me of what the Yale Cabaret was like in the ‘90s—loosely structured, casually and ingratiatingly performed, fueled with youthful energy and frustratingly unfinished.

Being that Yale Cabaret events now are usually so carefully composed, it’s an odd feeling to see such a display as this—and I’m a cat person. Timothy Hassler plays Cat, and Paul Lieber plays Cat’s adopted brother Cat. They host a low-rent public access TV show, of which we see three episodes—one of the first, the hundredth or so, and what might be the last.

There’s absurdity, naivete and surrealist intent beyond the obvious debt to shows like Wayne’s World and Pee Wee’s Playhouse. Standing in front of a green refrigerator on which lies a bright yellow ball of yarn, The Cats teach you how to cook. When, at the Friday late show, the Hassler Cat explained that there were three ingredients in a peanut butter sandwich, the Lieber Cat listed “Hope, audacity and Mary Poppins.” Ingredients likely change for each performance. The two man/cats are clearly trying to throw occasional curves at each other. Lieber is much better at keeping a straight face when that occurs than Hassler is.

Because of its cheery demeanor and outright silliness—99 percent of this show is suitable for all ages, and the other one percent is just a little creepy—you watch it cautiously, waiting for the other shoe (paw?) to drop, thinking “It can’t ALL be this light, can it?” There’s precious little conflict (Cat doesn’t like it when Cat teases him), certainly not enough to connect the stream of entertaining moments into something grander and more meaningful.

The ending brings some darkness and doubt to the enterprise, which means you leave the show with a sour feeling when by all rights you should be buoyant. It’s not enough of a turnaround to build a message or cautionary tale around, just a way to end the play.

“Uneven” doesn’t begin to explain a show like. Neither does “unnecessarily bleak ending.” Some of the routines are inspired, and a lot of care was put into the many video segments—self-contained fake commercials for perfume or a fish emporium, background images, some live-on-camera hijinks. Some “Special Thanks” notes in the program suggest paths which could have been more overtly taken: the feline behavior manual Cat vs. Cat by Pam Johnson-Bennett, “YouTube star Leelu Cutie Special for her music and inspiration.” There are one or two full rock songs in each “episode” of Cat Club, performed on a small centrally located club stage with the Lieber Cat on guitar and the Hassler Cat (who fronted the club-band-styled cancer memoir Ain’t Gonna Make It at the Yale Cabaret earlier this semester) banging a cowbell with a metal whisk. The songs are loud and sharp and well-harmonized, and end up anchoring the endeavor more than the comedy bits do.

But when it comes down to it, this is just a showcase for a couple of likeable performers who work well together. We watch them amuse themselves, and it amuses us until it gets weird. Just like cats.