Against a barrage of bad reviews, I tried to give Cats a fair hearing. There may have been wine involved…
“I remember the time I knew what happiness was”
I wanted to like Cats, honest. But…but…everytime you look at a detail in this unexpected horror film, there’s something ungainly or odd that distracts you inordinately:
- the scale of the damn thing. The mind boggles as the cats change from being tiny compared to railway tracks to almost human-sized at Nelson’s Column, bringing almost any object into screen ends up pulling focus as you try and work out wtf is going on
- why do some of them wear shoes (the ‘street’ cats in trainers, TSwift in heels…?) and of those who don’t, what’s with the toes
- in fact the whole anthropomorphic thing. There’s cleavage and six packs but no genitals or anuses. You wouldn’t think it would bother you so much but there’s so many lingering shots of these places…!
- the dancing cockroaches in danger of being eaten. Whyyyyyyyy?!
- it’s rather amusing that pretty much every reaction shot of Dench is her looking aghast, we know how you feel Judi
An unfortunate waste of talent all-round I’m afraid.
