“When Judi Dench turned and looked me directly in the eyes to let me know that a cat is not a dog, I was terrified.” It was unclear, on balance, whether getting high made “Cats” better, or much, much worse. Certainly, it seemed to raise the emotional stakes. One person reported bursting into tears before the film even started, during a trailer for “Trolls World Tour.” Recreational marijuana is legal in 11 states and the District, and a number of the people interviewed for this story asked that their full names be withheld — either because marijuana was not legal in their state or because they worried about professional repercussions. But going to “Cats” stoned seemed to be something people were doing, and sure enough, an open call on Twitter yielded a deluge of testimonials. Annaliese Nielsen, who owns a cannabis brand in Los Angeles, used a strain of weed calibrated for relaxation, but found herself unable to relax in a dark theater illuminated by the ghastly cat face of Corden. “I’m 36 and announced, ‘I’m scared!’ to my fellow moviegoers at least seven times,” says Nielsen, who called the film “a special kind of evil.”
Charlotte Clymer, 33, an LGBTQ activist in Washington, ate THC-infused gummy candies before her screening, and also found the movie terrifying. “Three-quarters of the way through the movie,” she says, “I was like, ‘I hope I don’t hate my own cats when I get home.’ ”
Raina, a 25-year-old from South Carolina, also ate gummies. She could not get past the mismatched proportions of the cats in the film. Sometimes they were cat-sized, sometime they were human-sized, and sometimes they appeared to be the size of mice. She made it 10 minutes, she says, “and then I went to the AMC bathroom and threw up.” Soon after the tingling feeling started in her forehead, Sarah, the 26-year-old from Louisville, realized that she and her roommate had made a miscalculation. The humanlike cats (catlike humans?) were grotesque. Sarah couldn’t stop staring at their feet. Er, paws. No, hands. “Where their fur ends and their human hands start, it would move in a weird unnatural way,” she says. At one point, Jennyanydots, the cat played by Rebel Wilson, eats dancing cockroaches who have human faces, in a “horrifying” scene.
“I felt like I was losing my mind,” Sarah says. “I was just concentrating on taking deep breaths.” But then there are the people for whom “Cats” under the influence was positively moving. “I was so delighted,” says Kat (yes, her real name), a 32-year-old in Los Angeles. “I was like, ‘Is this genius? Is this the best thing I have ever seen?’ ” “I had a realization partway through that I am the only person in the world who understands ‘Cats,’ ” says Kate, 31, a medical researcher in Chicago, who soon found herself plotting a “Cats”-based doctoral thesis while still in the theater: She would examine the class dialectic of 1930s London (when T.S. Eliot wrote the poems that inspired “Cats”), the late ’80s heyday of Webber and police brutality in 2019. “It doesn’t sound as groundbreaking now,” Kate says, “but please remember I was very stoned.”
In New York, a 26-year-old man named Ryan, who messaged The Post while still high on the edibles he took for that evening’s screening, expressed his lust for “a particular cat I would love to do bad things to me.” (It was Munkustrap, played by chiseled ballet dancer Robbie Fairchild).
