Review of Cat People, directed by Paul Schrader
By Gary Switch
GarySwitch@aol.com  
Posted with the author's permission, all rights reserved

Don't let its genre elements -- wet horror, dark erotica, and shape-shifting black leopards -- lower your expectations for this remake of Jacques Tourneur's 1942 Cat People. It's a surprisingly solid film by any standard: well-crafted, evocative, and stylish. (However, if wet horror, dark erotica, and shape-shifting black leopards happen to be your thing, you've hit the jackpot.) Add 1982-version (early twenties) Nastassja Kinski, who displays an utter lack of inhibition toward removing all her clothes for the camera, an attitude that seems to have inspired the rest of the attractive cast in the same direction, and you've got the ideal movie for those special evenings when it's just you, a close friend or two, and your fur suits.

With her exotic looks, trim bustline, narrow shoulders, and muscular haunches, Kinski (Paris, Texas; Tess; the poster with the python) makes her character, the orphan Irena, a perfect cat woman. And when she moves into the New Orleans townhouse of her sinister, long lost brother Paul, a brother with distinctly unbrotherly desires, you know you're in for a major perv-fest, especially since Paul is played by the poster boy for cinematic sadomasochism Malcolm McDowell (A Clockwork Orange, Caligula, If..., O Lucky Man).

Irena and Paul come from a circus family and share astounding acrobatic abilities as well as a few other quirks. "I've always had a weird metabolism," Irena confesses to handsome zoo curator Oliver, played by John Heard (O, Pollock), who chases her up a tree when he finds her staring intently at the leopard's cage after hours. She's a vegetarian and a virgin, having always felt some dire premonition about what would happen if she went all the way with a man. The black leopard in this particular cage was captured after mauling a prostitute. Smitten, Oliver gives Irena a job at the zoo, where his perky ex-girlfriend Alice, played by Annette O'Toole (Smallville, Smile), also works. Oliver confesses, "I've always preferred animals to people."

You can fill in the rest of the plot details yourself -- the film pretty much spells things out; it's not going for suspense. But what happens isn't so important as how it's done. Superb cinematography, a brooding score by Giorgio Moroder, atmospheric Big Easy locations, brisk pacing, taut direction, and understated acting all make Cat People a highly enjoyable experience. It's worth watching just for the magnificent animals -- even the elephants are well-coached. The shocking moments of gore and steamy episodes of casual nudity and sex aren't given big build-ups. They just happen, adding immensely to their effectiveness.

Irena's tender consensual bondage at Oliver's hands is the penultimate scene; her climax is also the film's. She sees no other way out, so she asks Oliver for one last dance. With the twining shadows of the porch screen winding sinuously over her bare torso, like a skintight cage she can never escape because she carries it within her, she pleads with him, "Free me!" She walks inside his bayou shack. Standing in the window (another cage motif), she pulls down her jeans. Putting down his shotgun and grabbing a coil of rope off the wall, Oliver follows her inside. They embrace. He gently picks her up and places her on the bed. Grasping one wrist, he binds her arm to the bed frame. After both her arms are secured, he takes a time-out to fondly stroke her hair and her bicep before doing her legs. Firmly, but not brutally, Oliver tugs her ankles apart. Irena stretches her lower back and arches her pelvis up, not as a sexual gesture, but simply to make herself comfortable. With Irena firmly tied, Paul takes off his leather jacket, shirt, and pants. The music pulses in a techno jungle beat. Irena closes and opens her eyes. Her chest heaves. Paul slowly crawls up her naked, bound form. He mounts her. Close-ups on Irena's feet and hands as she twists and turns them, pulling against the ropes. She gives a cry as he enters her. Fade to black.

Runner-up erotic moments include Irena possessed by bloodlust, skulking naked through the forest and employing her newfound night vision to stalk a cute little bunny rabbit, Paul offering some full-rear nudity when he comes to in a bathroom after a date that went terribly wrong, and Alice's topless swim while being menaced by an unseen predator.

For the cursed descendants of an ancient leopard-worshiping cult, sexuality boils down to an unbearable choice between incest, killing, and giving up their humanity. But what's most transgressive about Cat People is that, for humans, celibacy doesn't seem to be a viable option.

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Copyright 2005

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