Theater has long been regarded one of the most cerebral arts, especially in recent years, since ticket prices have risen to monstrous levels and the average quality of American television and cinema has dropped proportionally. How, then, does one explain the painfully drawn-out existence of The Scarlet Pimpernel, which critics laughed off the stage and then looked on in chagrin as it survived for several years and two complete overhauls? Or the all-too-soon demise of Parade, which closed after just eighty-four performances and shortly before nabbing nine Tony Award nominations? In my short life as a theater snob, I have seen dozens of extraordinary shows trounced by others that the theater circuit uniformly hated.

The audience for Cats consisted primarily of steadily dwindling hordes of tourists who perpetually flooded the Winter Garden Theatre to lowering percentages of capacity. Without the tourist crowd, Theater Row would be only a fraction as bright as it is today. The majority of visitors to the city, however, place their persuasive financial backing behind the wrong shows. If someone visits from Ohio just once in their life, they want to be able to brag about having seen a show that everyone back home will recognize. More often than not, they choose from a list that includes requisites such as Miss Saigon, The Phantom of the Opera, and Les Miserables. Due to some bizarre perversion of American values, it simply isn't very impressive to go home raving about awesome shows like Chronicle of a Death Foretold or Parade, which were virtually unheard of outside the tri-state area. The sad truth is that there is a booming demand for the truly mindless. As thought-provoking as theater is supposed to be, a large majority of people would rather see a show filled with glittering lights and songs they immediately recognize than one that stimulates thought.

The undying ignorance of tourists who flock to the theater in droves is a trend that big name producers would rather capitalize on than complain about. It would be unfair to expect producers to kill a show in the lucrative prime of its life or to coddle one that isn't financially sustainable. However, their support often continues in spite of lukewarm reception. Of late, Cats has frequently played to seventy percent capacity or less. Nonetheless, official theater sources reportedly denied the show's precarious status up until days before the official closing notice was posted. Producers unerringly stand behind mediocre shows with flagging ticket sales just to maintain the appearance that the empire they have created is unshakable.

It is nearly impossible for new blood to stand a chance in this hostile environment. Space in Broadway venues is a limited commodity. Because of this, innovative shows are often yanked without being given a chance to develop a following or are relegated to off-Broadway, which renders them nearly invisible in the eyes of tourists.