La Féline

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

It works pretty well as erotic horror/fantasy. Yes, there are some quibbles. Some of the special effects seem a little cheesy now, in the age of computer graphic effects. But, hey, it was 1982. A couple of times it was obvious that a character had jumped down and walked backward, and then the film ran in reverse to make the movements look more feline. Malcolm Mc Dowell came across as creepy and menacing, as usual. I had forgotten how beautifully doe-eyed an sylph-like Nastassja Kinski looked in this. And Annette O'Toole was great as the contrasting but lovely every-girl.

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.

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.

Alan Ormsby scripted and Paul Schrader directed this 80s remake of the well-regarded 1942 Val Lewton production. Nastassja Kinski stars as Irena Gallier, who hooks up with her long-unseen brother Paul (Malcolm McDowell), who ends up making insane demands of her. You see, he's been kept aware of their heritage while she, still an innocent, has been in the dark on the subject. Meanwhile, a black panther rampages through the community, and Irena falls in love with Oliver Yates (a bland, but likeable John Heard), a zoo curator.

There are quite noticeable differences between the 1940s and 1980s renditions. Schrader is much more *explicit*, and takes the implications of the schlocky title literally, while the Lewton film was all about *suggestion*. The 1942 film ran a trim hour and 13 minutes, while this takes its time and runs close to two hours. This version is much more sexy and much more violent, with Schrader taking advantage of the big leaps in special effects technology.

It was a clever move to reset the story in New Orleans, with its incredible atmosphere and European feel. It lends a definite presence to "Cat People" '82, as does the haunting electronic score by Giorgio Moroder. And that theme song (music by Moroder, lyrics by David Bowie, and performed by Bowie) really kicks ass! One nice touch is the "cat person" p.o.v. devised by Robert Blalack, but we only see this for one sequence. Visually, the film is stunning, with "visual consultant" Ferdinando Scarfiotti and cinematographer John Bailey giving "Cat People" '82 a great look. Legendary matte artist Albert Whitlock also lends his expertise.

Schrader is at least wise enough to pay tribute to the suspense / shock sequence which any fan of the 1942 version remembers well. And it leads to a genuinely creepy confrontation between Kinski (who's since come to terms with her reality) and a vulnerable Annette O'Toole. Speaking of these two fine ladies, the film certainly does not lack for attractive women, as cult actress Lynn Lowry and the bubbly Tessa Richarde also turn up. The cast, overall, is good, with the stars given strong support by familiar faces (Ruby Dee, Ed Begley, Jr., John Larroquette) and top character actors (Scott Paulin, Frankie Faison (who's curiously dubbed by Albert Hall), Ray Wise, and Marco St. John all make appearances.) Berry Berenson, widow of Anthony Perkins, appears as the pool attendant.

Pretty enjoyable overall, but this viewer would advise against spending too much time fretting over the differences in the two versions. They're clearly playing to different audiences. Lovers of creature features will likely derive some entertainment from this.

Seven out of 10.