You should watch something with a particularly good cat in it so that Movie Cat feels represented. Representation is important.
This is a very true thing.
Bast, of dubious memory, preferred reality television selections, viz. My Cat from Hell, but a cat who can sit a whole movie is probably more discerning.
Two Halloweens ago, he watched Edgar C. Ulmer's The Black Cat (1934) with us. For the record, unlike many movies which have been described to me as weird, that one is legitimately batshit and upsettingly so: it's like two or three axes of interwar nightmare all rolled together, full of the symbols of black magic and science fiction, but there's nothing speculative in it, only the horror of historical atrocity imprinting itself on the landscape like a haunting and human perversity that fetishizes it calling up the ghost again. You can see how it's spiraled back around to relevance these days. But it does contain a significant black cat. And halfway through, Autolycus came into my darkened office where we were watching, hopped up on the desk, and curled himself around my laptop with his tail lying over the right-hand side of the keyboard and his head peering down over the top of the screen into the illuminated action. It was a wonderful image which we could not photograph. He looked like a tutelary spirit. We told him that the black cat escaped along with the standard young couple at the end.
Much less elevatedly, he once watched The Cat from Outer Space (1978) with me and batted occasionally at the screen as if to make contact. Speaking of things with Roddy McDowall in them.
no subject
This is a very true thing.
Bast, of dubious memory, preferred reality television selections, viz. My Cat from Hell, but a cat who can sit a whole movie is probably more discerning.
Two Halloweens ago, he watched Edgar C. Ulmer's The Black Cat (1934) with us. For the record, unlike many movies which have been described to me as weird, that one is legitimately batshit and upsettingly so: it's like two or three axes of interwar nightmare all rolled together, full of the symbols of black magic and science fiction, but there's nothing speculative in it, only the horror of historical atrocity imprinting itself on the landscape like a haunting and human perversity that fetishizes it calling up the ghost again. You can see how it's spiraled back around to relevance these days. But it does contain a significant black cat. And halfway through, Autolycus came into my darkened office where we were watching, hopped up on the desk, and curled himself around my laptop with his tail lying over the right-hand side of the keyboard and his head peering down over the top of the screen into the illuminated action. It was a wonderful image which we could not photograph. He looked like a tutelary spirit. We told him that the black cat escaped along with the standard young couple at the end.
Much less elevatedly, he once watched The Cat from Outer Space (1978) with me and batted occasionally at the screen as if to make contact. Speaking of things with Roddy McDowall in them.