Cat People

"Cat People" is one of those movies that, by all rights, shouldn't be shown on network TV. That's not a comment on quality; it's one of the best erotic thrillers ever made (next to "The Hunger"). But when you have a movie where, for the last half hour, the female lead is mostly undressed ... how can you *show* the last half of the movie?

Very simply stated, they *don't* show it. I tried to watch Cat People on USA or some other network one night, and the last half hour had been cut down to about five minutes and made absolutely no sense. Worse, I was watching it with someone who had never seen it before, and when it was over, she was thoroughly confused and unimpressed.

So, number one: See this movie, if you haven't already! And number two, when you do ... rent or buy the video, or catch a revival on one of the premium cable channels.

Like Joe D'Amato's "Buried Alive," this remake of "Cat People" is technically a love story with a tough horror exterior. Both aspects of these genres fit quite well to create an unconventional entertainment. The movie gets especially high mileage out of two inspired leads--Nastassia Kinski as the young, attractive virgin (she also looks like a more predatory version of Isabella Rossellini); and Malcolm McDowell, who still glows with all the playful malevolence he brought to "A Clockwork Orange," as her brother, who morphs into a panther when sexually aroused. In spite of an ill-defined supporting cast, Paul Schrader's assured direction, the bizarre script (by "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things" star Alan Ormsby), those lush New Orleans locations, and the chemistry between Kinski and McDowell keep "Cat People" afloat. It's a sexually charged horror story told with a straight face, and it works.

7/10

What made Paul Schrader tackle this production I'm not sure. In a year when John Carpenter was doing his rendition of the short story, not even entirely so much the film, of The Thing, Schrader and his screenwriter decided to go back to the source of one of those stories no one really reads but pretends they have when in reality it's the original film everyone remembers. But this is an opposite case of Carpenters: where the original The Thing was, arguably, not really the masterpiece everyone remembers (albeit influential), the remake truly was. Jacques Tourner and Val Lewton crafted one of those quintessential horror films that scares precisely because how little we see of the actual panther on camera, while Schrader's film, actually, isn't a masterpiece of horror, not quite close at all really. And it's not even because Schrader decided to show the cat on screen, many times over (maybe it's a leopard, they look similar but it's closer to panther to me).

No, it's a different film due to permissiveness of the time period (it's the 80s vs the 40s, so this time we get plenty of nudity, "bad" language, and the Giorgio Moroder musical accompaniment which has dated pretty terribly), and with its subject matter being far more based on the romantic than in the original film. It's a strange effort this Cat People, where incest even comes into question (or rather it's right out in the open, at least between the two parties), the look and feel of New Orleans and the Bayou becomes another character, and the characterizations become enhanced by the mere presence of Malcolm McDowell's inimitable face and Nastassja Kinski's irrepressible sexual charisma on camera. Not to say she can't act, since she can hold her own very well even when she's seemingly doing not much except walking naked through a field at night or, um, walking naked in a room or, you know, not naked in a swimming pool.

How much is actually taken from the original Tourner film or the short story I really can't say for certain. The pool scene is the only one I can recall specifically lifted from the original (and, not too sorry to say, 42 for the win on that one). But comparisons can get too petty in this instance, perhaps, since Schrader's goal is to analyze the characters in this setting, what sex and desire and the psychology of a were-cat does to a person, or to people who realize what they're capable of, as opposed to just simple horror. Schrader's direction has some genuine moments of thrill, or just plain artistic satisfaction, like a not-so simple composition of a tracking shot of one of the hookers walking along on a street at night at her foot level. I'm even reminded of De Palma, whom Schrader worked with once before.

But at the same time, for all of the versatility of the actors, and the occasional moments of surreal imagination, there's also much camp as well (Ed Begley's character's fate for example) and a few really cheesy parts or just scenes that don't work or, perhaps, are too saddled with a need to push the button of sex on film. It's a hot number that works well, more or less, and would take a deeper analysis to dissect than I can give it right now. It's respectable, at the least.

In general terms, the basic premise of both original 1942 CAT PEOPLE and the 1982 Paul Schrader remake are the same: an exotic European beauty is given to transforming into a black panther when sexually aroused. But Schrader unravels this fantasy concept in some very overtly Freudian directions, setting his version in against the decadent charm of New Orleans, introducing a theme of incest, and ramping up the original with a lot of nudity, a lot of sex, and some of the most graphic violence around. The result is an American blood-and-gore horror film with a hypnotic European sensibility that equates both sexual frustration and orgasm with violent death.

The story line concerns two orphaned siblings (Natasha Kinski and Malcom McDowell) who are reunited in New Orleans as adults--but they are, unbeknownst to the sister, the descendants of a mutant race who can only mate with their own kind without transforming into ravening beasts who must then kill to regain their human form. When sister Natasha rejects her brother's advances and then falls in love with a hunky zoo director all hell breaks loose.

In some respects the film is extremely, extremely frustrating, often sliding over the edge from a sexually provocative shocker into moments of annoying silliness--but on the whole it works extremely well as a both a sexual fantasy and a semi-camp statement in gratuitous sex and violence. Kinski is ideally cast as the sexy but virginal Irena; you can literally see the "cat" side of her nature emerge more and more as the film progresses. McDowell is equally interesting as her mad brother, and John Heard, Annette O'Toole, and particularly Ruby Dee offer excellent performances in the supporting cast. The New Orleans backdrop is extremely effective, and (speaking as one who has been there) the darker side of the city is perfectly captured; the Moroder score--which includes some sultry vocals by David Bowie--is also extremely good.

A great many people will loathe CAT PEOPLE, and the reasons will be diverse. The film is extremely bloody, often to a can-you-stand-to-look-at-the-screen degree; there is tremendous nudity and considerably sexual activity; and the combination of sex and violence into a sadomasochistic eroticism is quite disturbing. Beyond this, more critically inclined viewers may find themselves annoyed by the script's silliness and the fact that it does not always go as far over the top as it leads you to expect, and certainly the film's very literal depiction of fantasy elements will not be to every taste. But if you have a hunger to walk on the wild side, CAT PEOPLE (which is rapidly gaining status as a cult film) will suit your need as guilty pleasure.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

Cat People is smart. Like most remakes that stand a chance, it keeps what worked in the original and reinvents it, twisting the narrative into something else. It's just a shame that this new narrative, for all its sexual implications, isn't terribly interesting.

The beautiful Kinski stars as a young woman who reunites with her religious fanatic brother in New Orleans and begins to realize that he's involved in a series of murders. Is he just a run of the mill serial killer or is he a "cat person" devouring hookers and tourists all around the French Quarter? Also, could she have this trait within her as well?

I'm not sure if it was the Blu-Ray I watched this on or if it was poor sound mixing in general, but the dialogue is so quiet and muffled that I had to turn the volume all the way up just to hear what everyone was saying before having to crank it down every time there was an attack scene. Eventually, I just turned on the subtitles and treated it like a foreign film.

There's a lot to like about Cat People. It has moments of the style, the acting is pretty good, and there's a twisted sexual perversity running throughout the story., but it's a bit overlong at nearly 2 hours and there's not enough to justify this runtime. We still don't really get a feel for most of the characters and Kinski's mid-film switch from sheltered, repressed virgin into femme fatale fails to convince.