From the twinkling sets of green eyes that sparkle like stars to the sinuous bodies that twist away from the audience hands when you try to stroke them, Cats is just magical.

It was clear from the audience reaction at the end of the show on Wednesday night that the care each dancer has taken to create ‘their’ cat has more than paid off, and that each had their own band of devoted fans.

From the raunchy, sneering Rum Tum Tugger to the smug perfection of Mr Mistofelees, the slow sadness of Gus and the swagger of his early life as Growltiger, the delicately-stepping White Cat and the elegant Bombalurina, each cat ‘personality’ was easily recognised.

Given that the inspiration for Lord Lloyd Webber’s musical was a book written by master poet TS Eliot, a devoted cat lover with more than just a knack for a descriptive turn of phrase, it’s hardly surprising that the lyrics are so spot on.

What is still so impressive about this musical, 32 years after it first exploded onto the stage, is that the quality of the dancing still amazes.

Before Cats, dancers were usually the backdrop to the songs: now there is a host of dance-based films and musicals. But the sheer inventiveness of the choreography and the amazing costumes, the way the cast become cats as they move around the auditorium, constantly doing that cat thing of blending into the background and then popping up where they are least expected, is still a delight.

My favourite? I’ve always liked a tabby with attitude, so if Munkustrap, brilliantly danced by Ben Palmer, would like to move in, that’d be fine by me. I’m sure the resident tabby-and-white would welcome him too. The show runs until October 26, so plenty of time to get down to Bristol and choose your favourite.