I learned a somewhat interesting fact from watching Paul Schrader’s 1982 quasi-remake of Cat People. Actually, I had to look it up afterward. Regardless, now I know that leopards and panthers are the same species, differentiated mainly by color. Perhaps that’s common knowledge to others, but I’d never given it any thought previously, until confused by characters in the film using the terms interchangeably. Of course, the movie also later states that leopards are an inherently incestuous race, and I’m pretty sure that part’s not true.
Not particularly based on the 1942 classic of the same title, beyond a few wink and nod references, Schrader’s version of Cat People is one truly bizarre movie. I can barely fathom how it got made in the way that it did, by the people it did, and was released out into the wild, like one of its signature animals escaped from captivity. A box office disappointment in its day, the film (for reasons quite obvious) grew into a cult item on home video, where countless viewers watched and rewatched specific scenes from it time and again with fingers hovering over their remote control Pause buttons. Very well made on the one hand, and borderline terrible on the other, the movie is both confounding and mesmerizing to watch, and not just for its most famous bits.
| Title: | Cat People |
| Year of Release: | 1982 |
| Director: | Paul Schrader |
| Watched On: | 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray |
| Also Available On: | Blu-ray Criterion Channel Various VOD rental and purchase platforms |
Truth be told, while watching Cat People, I half-jokingly thought to myself, “A whole hell of a lot of cocaine must have been needed to make this movie.” As it turns out, that’s exactly correct. Director Paul Schrader subsequently admitted that he was at the peak of a self-destructive cocaine habit during production of the film, and many on the crew indulged with him. You can tell. Frankly, it’s obvious.
As screenwriter of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, as well as director of American Gigolo, Schrader was also at the peak of a winning streak that not just permitted but encouraged such behavior. Hired by Universal Studios to remake an older movie that he seems to have had little interest in, the filmmaker was given free rein to do whatever he wanted with it, and what he wanted to do was snort a shocking amount of blow and hire a 20-year-old model to take her clothes off for his camera. A lot.
Nastassja Kinski, daughter of the brilliant and insane (or brilliantly insane) German actor Klaus Kinski, was the young model in question, and apparently had little compunction about the latter. She stars as Irena, a very innocent girl who travels to New Orleans to reunite with a long-lost brother she barely remembers. Paul (Malcolm McDowell) almost immediately proves to be a huge creep, uncomfortably sniffing and touching her, leaving little doubt that he wants to sleep with her. At first, the naïve Irena tries to brush this off as a cultural difference she doesn’t quite understand, but the more he hangs around her, the more she’d like to get out of the house to do a little sightseeing around the city, alone. For some reason, she’s especially fascinated with the zoo, and is drawn toward a black leopard/panther, feeling sorry for this feral beast trapped in a cage.
Not long after, a local prostitute is mauled by a similar leopard that inexplicably snuck into her second-story motel room. The animal has to be drugged and contained by Oliver (John Heard), curator of that zoo Irena likes so much. The two meet and are instantly attracted to one another, but Irena is hesitant to get too close to him. Meanwhile, brother Paul goes missing for several days, until the leopard escapes from the zoo, at which point he returns home looking a little bedraggled. That must surely be the damnedest coincidence!
Long story short, Paul and Irena are both descended from a race of were-leopards (wereleopards?) and transform into big cats when they have sex with anyone except their own family members. Irena didn’t know that because she’s still a virgin. Paul advises her not to sleep with Oliver or she’ll unleash the beast within and turn into a homicidal monster, much as he does repeatedly because he’s terribly inbred and psychotic. However, if Paul and Irena bang each other instead, that will free them from their curse and allow them to become leopards forever, or something? I don’t know. It’s weird. Really weird.
None of this makes a damn bit of sense, but Schrader commits to it fully, treating the film with a degree of seriousness the material absolutely does not earn or deserve, as if convinced he was making a profound examination of the human psyche layered with depth and meaning. Plus boobs.
Cocaine and extreme pretentiousness don’t mix well, kids.
If audiences came out of Cat People with little else (which is pretty much what happened), every single one of them remembered the movie’s showpiece scene, in which Nastassja Kinski strips off every bit of clothing she has and strolls around full-frontal through a field to embrace her animal instincts and eat a bunny, before returning to Oliver’s home covered in blood. In fact, Malcolm McDowell also gets pretty naked (something rather common for him at the time), as do John Heard and Annette O’Toole (as Oliver’s other potential love interest). About the only person in the cast to keep his clothes on is Ed Begley, Jr., playing a doomed co-worker at the zoo.
Released shortly after An American Werewolf in London, this version of Cat People likewise attempts a couple practical-effects monster transformation sequences that aren’t half bad, but also aren’t quite as good as that other movie, much less those in The Thing, which would be released a couple months later.
To his credit, Schrader’s direction is transfixing when watched in the right conditions and mindset. (No, I don’t mean with controlled substances, though I won’t dispute those might help.) The production design, photography, and use of color are all superb, backed by a very cool Giorgio Moroder electronic score. The movie has a tactile feel and moody atmosphere different than but equally effective as the original 1942 film. It’s visually gorgeous beyond just the nudity, with a tone balanced very carefully between seductive and sleazy.
Still, the character behaviors are all irrational at best, the plotting outright dumb most of the time, and the supposed mythology of the cat people utterly baffling. I found myself laughing in disbelief long before the nonsensical ending and hilariously abrupt cut to a David Bowie pop song. Even later, I’m still not sure what the hell I watched.
The 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray
During the high-def format war, Universal released the 1982 Cat People on HD DVD, the losing side of that conflict. In the fallout from that, the studio petulantly refused to follow-up with a Blu-ray until licensing the title out to Shout! Factory in 2014 for a Collector’s Edition under the Scream Factory sub-label. I dug through my archives and found a copy of the Universal HD DVD, which I played for a few minutes before being appalled at its overly edge-enhanced video transfer. I then immediately ordered a copy of the 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray edition issued in 2022.
The 4K release, also labeled a Scream Factory Collector’s Edition, comes as a 2-disc set with the movie on both regular Blu-ray and 4K UHD. I’m unable to validate whether the Blu-ray is remastered or just a copy of the 2014 disc. Naturally, I focused on the 4K version.
The 4K transfer is beautiful for the most part, though not purrrrfect. The 1.85:1 image is quite sharp and detailed, with vibrant colors that leap off the screen. Unlike some 4K discs, HDR adds a lot to this one. The contrast range is striking from bright highlights to inky blacks, lending the picture a palpable sense of depth and realism.
However, the transfer also appears to have undergone some grain reduction and has problematic encoding and compression. None of that hurts detail too much, but definitely proves distracting when scenes switch from mostly grainless to extremely noisy, especially exteriors with the sky in the background. When it appears, the grain has poor texture and moves in unnatural patterns, often freezing in place while the imagery moves beneath it. In the flashback/dream sequences set in a red-filtered desert, it’s difficult to tell if the streaks moving across the screen are supposed to be waves of sand or are just video artifacts. I assume the former, but that isn’t terribly clear.
The 4K disc prioritizes the soundtrack in a DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mix, presumably meant to represent the theatrical Dolby Stereo. An alternate DTS-HD MA 5.1 option is placed in second position on the menu. I compared the two a bit and found them largely similar. The 5.1 has perhaps a little bit more prominent bass in the musical score, but dialogue is slightly murky. On my system, the 2.0 track has clearer dialogue so I defaulted to that one. With Dolby Surround Upmixer engaged, the 2.0 mix has a fair amount of surround activity. The audio is generally thin in either case.
For extras, the 4K disc itself has only a rather dull audio commentary by director Paul Schrader, who still takes the whole thing much too seriously. That’s replicated on the Blu-ray disc, which adds a bunch of additional content, mostly focused on interviews, including: Schrader, Kinski, McDowell, John Heard, Annette O’Toole, actress Lynn Lowry (who had a bit part as a hooker), and composer Giorgio Moroder. Those are followed by a few featurettes and a couple image galleries.
Related
- Original film
- Paul Schrader (director)
- Malcolm McDowell
- Ed Begley, Jr.
- David Bowie
Note: Screenshots on this page were taken from the Blu-ray edition of the film and are used for illustration purposes only.
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