Cat People
(1982)
sex horror
directed
by : Paul Schrader
featuring
: Nastassia Kinski - Malcolm McDowell - John Heard - Annette O'Toole -
Ruby Dee
running
time : 1 hour 58 minutes
In this loose adaptation of the 1942 horror
classic of the same name, a 2001-style opening montage establishes some
sort of sacrificial, mystical union between panthers and an ancient tribe
of humans. Flash forward to 1980's New Orleans, where waifish Irina (Natassia
Kinski) meets her older brother, Paul (Macolm McDowell), a minister, for
the first time since their animal trainer parents died and she was sent
to a series of foster homes. Paul's Creole housekeeper, Female (Ruby Dee),
helps Irina settle into her brother's home, but Paul himself disappears.
Cut to a fleabag motel where a blasé prostitute finds an angry panther
instead of a client; after mauling her, the cat is captured by police and
a team of zoologists: Oliver (John Heard), Alice (Annette O'Toole), and
Joe (Ed Begley Jr.). The next day Irina finds herself in the zoo where
these scientists work; drawn to the newly captured panther, she befriends
Oliver and takes a job in the gift shop. Shortly after the panther's violence
turns deadly, it escapes, and soon Paul turns up spouting an unbelievable
story about his family's were-cat heritage and his inevitable sexual union
with little Irina. On the run from her dangerous brother, Irina takes refuge
in a sexually frustrated romance with Oliver, afraid of what might happen
if she consummates their passion. Astute viewers will notice that the zoologist
characters refer to the film's panthers as leopards; "panther" is actually
a generic term for any large cat, especially a black one, but Cat People's
panthers are in fact leopards whose black color comes from a recessive
trait known as melanism.
This poorly written, ineptly edited
muddle wants to be a thrilling erotic parable about the loss of sexual
innocence, but screenwriter/director Paul Schrader focuses too much on
the softcore kink angle to the detriment of plot, characterization, and
atmosphere. Although it's ostensibly a remake of the Val Lewton / Jacques
Tourneur classic, this Cat People abandons its predecessor's psychological
shadings in favor of copious nudity and special effects that can't compare
to the previous year's
An American Werewolf In London. A few scenes in
Cat People are direct swipes from the original, including an inferior copy
of the haunting swimming pool sequence, but most of Schrader's script seems
like a naughty letter to then-girlfriend Kinski, Long before she went blonde
and right at the height of her python-poster popularity, Kinski brought
dark, Eastern Bloc sensuality to her role as Irina, a timid orphan afraid
of her inner panther; McDowell has less screen time and little to work
with as her brother, Paul, a minister with a dark sexual secret. Heard
and O'Toole play characters so clueless it's like they're in another movie,
but they play them well, while Dee makes the most of a small but colorful
role as Paul's devoted servant, Female. If you can follow Schrader's muddy
were cat mythology and stomach such improbabilities as a brother stupid
enough to hit on his own sister without at least offering her a cocktail
first, perhaps Giorgio Moroder's droning synthesizers and David Bowie's
sultry title song will lull you into a drowsy state that's receptive to
Schrader's fever-dream. Mentally alert viewers, however, will probably
chalk up this misfire to the writer/director's sexual hang-ups and move
on to one of his superior efforts from the same time period.