What ‘Cats: The Jellicle Ball’ Closing May Tell Us About Broadway’s Rent Problem

(Photo: Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)

by Chris Peterson

The announcement that Cats: The Jellicle Ball will close on August 8 caught a lot of people, including me, off guard. This was a critically celebrated revival, a Tony winner, and, for most of its run, a show playing to a very full Broadhurst Theatre.

Andrew Lloyd Webber responded with a warning that went well beyond his disappointment over one production. He wrote that “bringing almost any new show to Broadway makes little financial sense,” pointing to enormous costs, diminishing royalties for creators and investors who are often fortunate to recover part of their money. He urged theatre owners, unions, and producers to work together before Broadway becomes a place where only a few established hits can survive.

The Jellicle Ball was not a traditional flop. Through July 5, it had averaged 93.44% capacity, with an average ticket price of about $109. Its best week brought in $1,033,755, and during the week leading into the Tony Awards, it grossed another $1,027,555.

The numbers fell sharply before the closing announcement. For the week ending July 5, the show grossed $691,071 and played to about 87% capacity. That was a bad week, especially for a musical with a large company. Still, it is hard to look at the full run and say audiences rejected the production.

My concern is that a show can fill more than 90% of its seats, regularly gross close to $1 million, win major awards, and still have almost no room to survive a few softer weeks.

I keep coming back to theatre rent.

I have not seen the weekly operating budget or theatre agreement for The Jellicle Ball, so I cannot say that the rent at the Broadhurst killed it. The closing may have involved several factors. But the way Broadway theatre rent works deserves more scrutiny.

Capacity tells us how many seats were occupied, not how much money those seats generated. The Broadhurst has 1,160 seats, meaning 90% capacity at an average ticket price of $100 would produce about $835,000 during a standard eight-performance week. Raise the average price to $110, and the gross would be around $919,000.

During the show’s final reported week before the announcement, its average ticket price fell to about $86. The theatre was still roughly 87% full, but the lower price helped pull the gross below $700,000. Rush tickets, lotteries, and discounts can keep a house looking full while reducing revenue. Two productions playing at 90% capacity can be in completely different financial positions.

A weekly gross is revenue, not profit. Loeb & Loeb estimated in 2023 that a major Broadway musical could carry fixed weekly operating expenses between $650,000 and $800,000 before theatre percentage rent. Theatre owners generally receive another 6% or 7% of the weekly gross. On a $1 million week, that is $60,000 to $70,000. Productions may also pay a fixed minimum rent and additional house expenses.

A sample budget published by producer Ken Davenport included more than $150,000 a week in theatre-related costs, including house staff, ushers, cleaners, stagehands, utilities and benefits. The example is from 2013 and should not be treated as a current Broadway quote, but it shows how quickly those expenses add up. Royalties and other payments follow, meaning a million-dollar week may leave very little profit.

I want everyone working on a Broadway show to be paid properly. Cutting salaries or eliminating jobs cannot be the automatic answer whenever a production struggles. These are skilled workers living in one of the most expensive regions in the country.

Theatre owners also have legitimate expenses. They operate large, aging buildings in one of the country’s most expensive real-estate markets. CBRE reported that the average asking rent along Manhattan’s major retail corridors reached $682 per square foot annually during the first quarter of 2026. The Corcoran Group reported that Manhattan’s median apartment rent reached a record $5,295 per month in June. Broadway theatres are not leased like storefronts or apartments, so those figures are not direct comparisons, but they do show how expensive it is to own a building, run a business, and employ people in New York City.

I’m not interested in portraying theatre owners as the sole villains here. Their expenses are real, and they deserve to make money. My concern is the leverage built into a system where so few companies control so many Broadway houses.

Shubert operates 17 Broadway theatres, Nederlander controls nine, and ATG Entertainment controls seven. Together, those three organizations oversee 33 of Broadway’s 41 houses. The Broadhurst belongs to Shubert.

That limited supply gives owners considerable negotiating power. A producer unhappy with the terms cannot simply move a musical down the street. Many theatres are occupied, and the available houses may not fit a production’s stage, seating, orchestra or dressing-room needs.

The owner receives rent throughout the run, including a percentage of the gross, whether the production has recouped or not. Investors may lose everything while the theatre has collected its share each week.

Broadway leases can also include stop clauses, allowing a production to be removed if its grosses fall below an agreed level for two consecutive weeks. There is no verified evidence that a stop clause caused The Jellicle Ball to close. Still, the system leaves little room for recovery when a few bad weeks can threaten a run after months of strong attendance.

There should also be more risk sharing. Rent could decrease when a show falls below its operating cost and rise when it becomes highly profitable. New productions could receive better terms during their first few months, giving them time to build an audience.

Commercial theatre will always be risky, and some shows will close because the audience is not there. The Jellicle Ball appears to have found one. Without the production’s actual budget, we cannot know whether rent was the main factor. But how can a show fill nearly every seat, gross close to $1 million a week, and remain financially fragile?

Lloyd Webber is right that theatre owners, unions, and producers all have a stake in finding a solution. A million-dollar gross may look impressive in a headline. On Broadway today, it may barely be enough to survive.

Theatre rent did not cause all of that problem, but it is certainly part of the bill.