Mad Cat's just got something. The Carbonells might not see it, billionaire philanthropists have yet to see it, your great-grandmother might have a hard time figuring it out, but it's there. And in the years since the company began, legions of smart young theater people with more taste than money have found Mad Cat and responded. It's partly the tiny, immersive space; partly the company's knack for creepy mood lighting; partly the fabulous taste in music. But mostly it's balls, enthusiasm, and verve — the sense you're entering a space where smart and passionate people are doing what they do best. In any given country in any given decade, it's a good bet there are only a few places where the real art is going down, where the stakes are high and everybody looks and feels like they're on amphetamines, just from the wild rush of creation. Sometimes it's Max's Kansas City; sometimes it's City Lights. Maybe now it's Mad Cat. It's a long shot, but these things do have to start somewhere.