Cat People

I heart Jacques Toureur.

Preface to this post:

I wrote the majority of this text the night of the loud noise, January 29th. This subtle event triggered a flurry of self-examination, and the essay below. It was only the last sentence was written the next morning.

trailer for this evocative movie

The other night I was watching the very cool 1947 film CAT PEOPLE on DVD. I pressed pause and got up from the movie to get some ice cream from the kitchen.

At that point I was thinking about contacting Nick Redfern, and asking him to do an interview. In my head I rehearsed a speech where I would ask him to play the role of psychiatrist as a selfish way for me to try and unravel my own odd experiences.

I returned to the couch (and my black kitten climbed onto my lap) at the 57 minute mark of the DVD, where the psychiatrist character in the film gives a coldly logical speech (excerpted below) directed at the haunted Irena who is trying to deal with her evil cat identity. This heavy-handed bit of dialog seems to define my own challenges.

Irena (the main character in the film) is a deeply troubled artist, and also a shape shifting cat.

The creepy psychiatrist says:

You’re that close to real insanity. I can’t help you, you can only help yourself. You keep going back to the mad legends of your birthplace, forget them. You surround yourself with cat objects, pictures, paintings, get rid of them. Lead a normal life.

It was right at the end of this speech that I heard a very loud thud coming from the kitchen. I was really startled and my kitten jumped up from my lap and she darts to the corner of the couch, a spot where she can zip between the couch and the wall to hide in a zone of safety.

Now, let me say that this little kitten is afraid of nothing.

The sound in the kitchen sounded like nothing more than something plastic clattering in the sink. But, when I got up and looked around the kitchen, there was nothing out of place that might have made such a loud noise. The dishes were neatly stacked, and I couldn’t find anything that might be out of order.

I even tried to recreate the noise by dropping a plastic scrub brush into the sink, but it didn’t seem to sound at all like the jolting sound I had heard moments before.

I returned to the living room, and my other cat, Spazzy, exited the closet and very cautiously walked towards the kitchen. I followed her to see what she would look at, only to watch her sit at the entrance to the kitchen and do nothing. The jarring noise in the kitchen was odd, but more odd was when it occurred at the dramatic moment the film.

Let me add that I am completely thunderstruck by the dreamlike beauty of this film. I had seen it before, years ago on VHS, but this DVD print was remarkably beautiful.

A short excerpt of the creepy doctor and Irena. Beware, this is a mega-spoiler!

There are two domesticated cats are “featured” in the film. A light colored Siamese, and a black one. These match my cats, Spazzy and Jackie. And, there is an exceptionally beautifully photographed sequence in the film where there is a cat sitting on a light-box, curiously similar to my cute cats on light-box video. (posted over a month earlier on youtube)

Cats and a light-box NOT directed by Jacjues Toureur.

The doctor who gave that well scripted speech (excerpt above) ended up dead, the tragic heroine of the film kills him in her shape-shifting puma form after he gives her a lascivious kiss. This attempt at seduction on the part of the psychiatrist seems weirdly out of place, and I am not sure what to make of it. The script is very dreamlike, awash in mythic imagery, and it feels this character represents something calculating in a story full of unrequited passions.

The psychiatrist, the coldly logical force in the film speaks to the tragic Irena:

“You’re that close to real insanity..."

This is a small part of a speech of rationality, and later the doctor is brutally clawed to death by the sad Irena who is lost in a fog of paranormal obsessions. And at the same time, these obsessions prove to be very real. It sure seems like getting rid of a few cat pictures in her dramatically lit apartment wouldn’t have changed who she really was.

I spend a lot of my time trying to come to terms with my own experiences and what they might mean. I know that I am sane, but I have to assume that any pragmatic doctor would logically tell me: "You're that close to real insanity."

It felt like this was a message directed at me. What is the meaning? To ignore rationality and acknowledge the deeper truth that lays hidden in the paranormal?

*       *      *

The next morning I found my wooden scrub brush on the floor of the shower, this was obviously the source of the loud noise from the previous night.

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