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I’ll get to “Memory” in a moment, but every other song in “Cats” is rinky-tink to the extreme. Only when William Waldrop’s orchestrations riff on the original score by imposing a bump, stomp and grind dance rhythm does this “Cats” spring alive to grow painted claws. The cast really knows how to wear clothes and strut, although Arturo Lyons and Omari Wiles’ choreography doesn’t do much more than let the dancers show off their incredible extension and flexibility. I would have liked more stripping and display of bare skin. Curiously, this “Cats” too often comes off as a PG-rated “Broadway Bares,” the exceptions being Baby’s slinkier-than-thou White Cat and Sydney James Harcourt’s hot-hot-hot Rum Tum Tugger, who’s more than ready for a Grindr hook-up.

Regarding the competitions between various street types (construction worker, school boy, etc.) and a couple of fashion labels, these contests are signaled by projections on the back wall of Rachel Hauck’s warehouse set and have next to nothing to do with Lloyd Webber’s songs. There’s a huge disconnect between what’s being choreographed and what’s being sung, the lyrics unintelligible due to Kai Harada’s shrill amplification.

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