When I think of cinema classics
Cat People is always one that comes to mind first. Granted, it's no
2001, but damn if it isn't a potent little gem in it's own right. I pay it a visit every few years and always thoroughly enjoy it. The last visit was just a few days ago and it's been floating around in my head since.
The moment this wonderfully dark Art Deco title card comes on the screen you know you're in for a treat.
Part of what fascinates me about Cat People is it's origins. Released in 1942, it's the product of a struggling studio trying to make a quick buck with a trendy "creature feature". Orson Welles'
Citizen Kane nearly bankrupted RKO Pictures; the studio needed a hit, and the cheaper they could score one the better. They saw the money the Universal horror flicks were raking in and devised a plan: they would make cheapie horror flicks, cashing in on the horror trend and, hopefully, earning back the money they lost on Citizen Kane. They set up a department headed by Val Lewton, who would produce the films. They would give him titles and it was his job to build a film around them. The first of these films was Cat People. RKO anticipated a scary movie following a monstrous being, a la
The Wolf Man or
Frankenstein. What they got was an intelligent character piece that also serves as an early example of psychological horror. Much to RKO's delight the film was a smash success, and a handful of cheaply made Lewton horror flicks followed in quick succession. The element of surprise may have played a role in the film's success. People probably weren't expecting a movie called Cat People to be so gorgeously shot, it's sumptuous shadows and light giving it a sophisticated, noir-ish tone. That it was filmed in a matter of weeks on a shoestring budget truly astounds me; it looks like a million bucks, as they used to say. And the subject matter, when you really get into the psychology of it, is very dark.
The creature feature poster art, though certainly beautiful,
doesn't quite convey the dark, psychological depths this film will plumb.
The story revolves around Irena Dubrovna, a Serbian-born fashion designer working in New York City. She meets all-American "good boy" Oliver Reed and the two promptly fall in love. But Irena has a problem. She believes she suffers from an ancient curse: if she is emotionally aroused she will turn into a panther and kill her lover. This creates problems in their relationship. Irena loves and wants to be with Oliver, but is afraid that if she lets her love fully engulf her she will transform and kill him. What are they to do?
Oliver and Irena have their meet-cute... but things won't stay cute for long...
The strength of the story here lies not in the literal plot but rather in the subtext. And, boy, is this movie loaded with subtext! Back then films were much more restricted in what they could say and show onscreen. Topics that were considered "taboo" had to be dealt with through symbolism and metaphor. Here, Irena's curse is an obvious stand-in for sex. But beyond that, what the movie delves into is fear and power, of letting go, or the opposite, self-repression.
As seen in the above three shots, visual symbolism tells us as much about these people, their motivations,
and their fates as the spoken dialogue does.
Beautiful French actress Simone Simon played Irena and she does an amazing job. She is sweet, kind, approachable, and yet, as we see later, can also be quite menacing. She's also conflicted; Simon plays Irena's alternating joy and fear perfectly. There are moments when we see Irena is so full of longing, of wanting to let her love for Oliver burst forth, but she just can't. And later in the film, as she finds herself literally and metaphorically cornered, we see her vengeful, angry side come out. It's a complicated, multi-layered role; my hat's off to Simon for handling it so adeptly.
The stunning Simone Simon as Irena, relaxing in her apartment in front of her alter ego,
the same Art Deco panther we saw earlier in the film's title card.
Irena drops to her knees in frustration, unable to open the door she leans against to let her lover in.
Cat People occasionally flirts with surrealism. The first and best of these moments comes during Irena's first visit to her psychologist. She's under hypnotism, laying down with her eyes closed, and she speaks in a dreamy, distant voice of her childhood in Serbia. A spotlight is pointed on her. All we see as she speaks is her face surrounded by pitch black, almost as if she is floating. It's a stark visual, beautiful and atmospheric. It also highlights the isolation Irena feels because of her curse.
Under hypnosis, floating into her subconscious, Irena speaks of her deepest fears.
Although not scary by today's standards, Cat People has two extremely tense scare sequences. The first one involves a late night walk through Central Park and a particularly loud bus. The other, an underground swimming pool and some atmospheric (and frightening) shadows. Both scenes are gorgeously shot and perfectly edited. The tension just builds and builds until it finally explodes! Just don't expect Nightmare On Elm Street caliber scares; Cat People is from a different time and what was scary then is much tamer today.
Alice is being stalked by... what? A jealous woman? Or perhaps a vengeful panther?
Shadows and light give Cat People a moody visual tone. Horror never looked so lush.
One thing I really love about films from this era is that they didn't underestimate their audience. A perfect example is the handling of Dr. Judd, Irena's psychologist. Judd is not a good man. He is the person Irena is most depending on to help her. The nature of their relationship is intimate, he's her psychologist after all. But he really has no intentions of helping her at all; instead he plans to exploit her because he finds her attractive. In a modern movie Dr. Judd's motivations would be shouted out at us through obvious dialogue and actions, because modern filmmakers don't trust their audience to be smart enough to pick up on subtleties. In Cat People this storyline is handled smartly; his motivations are initially hinted at, and only later come to the fore, but the whole time we understand that he is not to be trusted. Another example is Alice, Oliver's coworker. She will eventually become a wedge between Irena and Oliver, and perhaps even helps seal Irena's fate. But rather than present her as a one-dimensional, mean-spirited, "other woman", the film presents Alice as very likable -- a smart, independent woman with a mind of her own. It's easy to see why Oliver likes her because we like her, too.
Alice and Oliver begin to suspect that maybe Irena's curse is real...
In the end there are no easy answers or solutions to the problems these characters face. That's part of what makes the film so engrossing. You're wondering through the entire film how any of this could possibly end happily. And, spoiler alert, it doesn't. The heartbreaking ending is surely part of what makes Cat People so potent. But even more so, the internal conflict Irena feels, of wanting so badly to love but being afraid to, is what really makes this movie tic. There are constant undercurrents of treachery surrounding Irena -- Dr. Judd, Alice, and even Oliver, who never takes her belief in the curse seriously until it's too late. And what will happen when all this pressure Irena feels -- from others, from herself, from her vacillating hopefulness and frustration -- comes to a head? There's a lot going on in Cat People, and if you're willing to engage in the psychology of it, and investigate what is implied rather than what is outright said, you'll find a lot to chew on here. You may even find yourself moved by it. This is a great film that I always suggest when people ask me for a good "old movie". Highly recommended!
Cat People bids you farewell on a somber, poetic note.
The placement of the panther's cage behind it isn't without reason.
