Cat People

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.

Erotic thriller with Nastassja Kinski starring as a young female who's gone searching for her own, inner self. In many ways a remake of the 1942 original, but also in many ways not a remake - a film that stands its own ground, this has a quality of sexual awakening and excitement that the original didn't have. Fabulous music by Giorgio Moroder (also featured is David Bowie's hit-single "Putting Out the Fire") accompanies many of the bloody and sexually occupied scenes that hammers on like they belonged in a artsy-fartsy porn flick. Kinskis performance at the center is typically her: odd, tactless, awkward, outlandish and sensual - in other words, highly enjoyable. She's fantastically beautiful, and she moves through a New Orleans during the fall, shot by John Bailey. And even though the level of thrills ain't always sky-high, the film has a charm and atmosphere that makes it a interesting, stylish and sexy cult picture.

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

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.