We’re awkwardly standing in the cramped hallway backstage at the Cort Theatre, the commotion of the production crew rumbling all around us. Chessie is running late. Stuck in traffic, we’re told. As a writer, I’m used to this. I’ve been stood up by actors and musicians plenty of times. But this is the first time I’ve ever had to wait around for a cat.
But Chessie’s no ordinary cat. He’s a star. As a member of the rotating cast of cats that perform every night in the Broadway production of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he’s expected to hit his mark along with his fellow actors. Vito Vincent, the most popular cat in the cast, is out this week, so Chessie is stepping into the spotlight.
No sign of Monty, the cat who was fired from the lead feline role but, reportedly, remained as an understudy.
While we wait, it’s suggested we pay a visit to Moo, another understudy, who’s lying on the floor of his dimly lit dressing room. (In case you were wondering, the dressing room the cats share is of equal size to those occupied by the other cast members. No favoritism here.) CindyJoseph, Moo’s handler, tells us this is his first stage experience, and that he’s performed in a couple shows already. “Not every animal is a showbiz animal,” his agent, Diane, tells us. Moo is so good, according to Diane, that he even rehearses the other understudies. Right now, he looks desperate to get out of the room.
“The child’s here!” a voice calls from down the hall.
Chessie has arrived. He’s carried by Babette Corelli, the animal trainer for “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” Corelli runs Dawn Animal Agency, a family-owned business that represents the cats in the show and has been providing trained animals to the media since 1959. Their website, which features a picture of a macaque riding a horse, boasts that they have “run 16 elephants down Wall Street for Letterman, staged a 60-member dog show at Roseland for ‘Sex and the City,’ and herded 24 cows and 16 horses through Times Square for ‘Good Morning America.’”
We head to the stage to take some photos.
“That’s right, be a cat, embarrass me,” Corelli says as she attempts to get Chessie to walk into frame. He seems more interested in looking at the people chatting in the back of the theater. I start to wonder how he is going to act when there is a full house and actors on stage. Will he freeze up? Will he wander to the wings and sniff the stage curtains?
Corelli scolds him for bad behavior. “Excuse me, you’re a trained cat. Remember that fact.” She claps, bangs the stage floor, and shakes a bag in the air trying to get his attention. No response. “I hate cats sometimes,” she laughs. Chessie finally responds by exiting stage left and hiding under a bed on set.
We decamp to the dressing room to continue the photo shoot. (It’s only later that I realize, as we exited the stage, that we passed Emilia Clarke, star of the show. We paid her no attention. We know who the real star is.)
Upstairs, while Corelli gets Chessie ready for his glamour shots by furiously brushing his hair, actor Cory Michael Smith, who has a dressing room right next to the cats, seems a little peeved that I’m blocking his doorway, taking notes on Chessie’s every move. George Wendt arrives backstage moments later and audibly laughs at us.
The cast is called over the loudspeakers. It’s 30 minutes to showtime, and Chessie needs his rest. Soon enough, he’ll be purring on stage in front of a packed audience, soaking in the bright lights of Broadway.