Many themes have become widespread subjects of examination in the arts, some of them less positive than others. The concept of obsession has a unique place within the culture since it is certainly universal in the sense that we all understand what it means and how it feels, but very few of us hopefully have been on either end of the most extreme kind of obsession. Cinema has carved a niche that focuses almost exclusively on this idea, and while these stories have been told for a while, it was only during the 1980s that we started to see an entire genre being formed from it. Over the past few years, we’ve seen various attempts to revive the obsession thriller in one way or another, to varying degrees of success – some are inspired, and others are teetering dangerously close to being outright disasters. In either instance, these films are still worth watching for one reason or another – they are either excellent and show the darkest side of the human condition, or they are memorable failures that may lack artistic merit but are undeniably entertaining, in the particular sense there is a tendency for these films to go over the top in fascinating ways. The only ones that tend to not be worth our time are those that are boring and misshapen to the point where they struggle to hold our attention – and unfortunately, one of the most recent attempts to bring this genre to the 21st century is the embodiment of this unfortunate result. Cat Person is a film that desperately wants us to believe that it is excellent, a subversive and effective work that tackles an important issue. Unfortunately, this is not the case, even though director Susanna Fogel makes it very clear that this is what she intended to do when adapting the New Yorker short story of the same title by Kristen Roupenian, a much more intriguing work than whatever bloated, overlong attempt at a psychological thriller we ultimately received.

Cat Person starts with a quote by Margaret Atwood that states “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them” – it’s a powerful statement and one that is ultimately far too relevant to the contemporary state of the world. The film choosing to start with this as something of a prologue was both a smart decision and ultimately the reason it faltered, since despite setting the tone of what was to follow, it felt like the film was built exclusively around this quote, every event and action circling back like a student refers back to the thesis statement of their half-written essay, and I am not entirely sure Fogel is strong enough of a director to make sufficient use of the potential that comes with such a layered quote. A film having an overarching theme is more than appropriate, we aren’t consistently forced to recall these ideas in an entirely intentional manner, and there aren’t any moments where Fogel seems to be giving the viewer the benefit of the doubt to be able to form our own opinions. Everything comes across as being very heavy-handed, and the fact that it isn’t even sure what it wants to be in terms of the genre is more proof that a strong premise was fumbled right from the start. Cat Person is a bizarre blend of dark comedy, of which very little is funny, and a psychological thriller that offers us next to nothing in terms of genuine suspense. Instead, the humour is bland and every plot development is predictable, right until the ending, in which the resolution only comes in the form of quite literally putting the protagonists in a position where escape is physically impossible. There is a strong message in this film, but it loses its impact when every minute of the two hours we spend with these characters consists of the director hammering in the main themes, seemingly fearful that we are going to forget what this story represents, a cardinal sin that makes this film nothing more than an overlong series of expositionary moments punctuated by a few strange diversions that do nothing more than make us wonder how different this could have been with a more concise vision at the helm, or at least a script that could handle some of the more intimidating themes.

The general impetus behind Cat Person was to evoke a genuinely uncomfortable and unpleasant atmosphere. This is not a bad approach, especially since we have seen many obsession thrillers feel too polished and neat, either in how they establish the story or in its conclusion. Fogel understood the importance of not buckling to conventions in a way that felt too simplistic, but she seemed to go too far in terms of trying to create a genuinely unlikable mood. There are countless moments in this film where it feels like she completely loses any sense of tonal consistency, and not in the sense where everything is blurred together to create an intentionally strange jumble of ideas. Instead, we find that this film is driven by far too many ideas, none of which come to fruition – whether this is a result of the screenplay by Michelle Ashford (but I am hesitant to view her as the primary culprit for the film’s failure since her previous work as a writer and producer does speak for itself in terms of tackling complex issues – Masters of Sex on its covers similar issues with far more elegance and intelligence, as well as genuine emotions), or the direction, something feels amiss throughout this film. A lack of consistency in terms of the themes and the tone they take then results in pacing issues – this film didn’t need to be two hours long, and the moment the audience begins to start coming up with their own opinions on scenes that needed to be trimmed or elided entirely is the moment we can write the film off as being unsuccessful since we never want to force the viewer into a position where the length is felt. Ultimately, we find that Cat Person is emotionally quite vacant, and is never as enrapturing and compelling as it seems to believe itself to be, which is an unfortunate development for a story that warranted a far more interesting approach.

It would appear as if the idea to steep Cat Person in reality extended to the choice of the two leads, since Emilia Jones and Nicholas Braun are cast as the central roles, and give performances that certainly are on the level of the film that surrounds them, but not in a way that is necessarily worthy of much praise. Jones is a bright talent, and she’s proven herself to be quite good when working with good material. Unfortunately, she is still quite new to the industry and therefore has to settle for lead roles that don’t give her much to do. The part of Margot is not particularly memorable or interesting, and solely exists to be the embodiment of female paranoia and fear, a bundle of reactions to the sinister characters that surround her, particularly her love interest. Jones does what she can with the material, and she is certainly not bad but rather doesn’t rise to the level of being all that captivating, which is a shame considering she seemed to be willing to put in the work and deserved a much better character. Braun, however, is actively quite bad in the film – while he achieved some degree of acclaim for his performance as the goofy Cousin Greg in Succession (a role that will likely define him as an actor, and which will likely be the peak of his career), but nearly every other acting endeavour has proven his deficiency – he is neither charismatic nor sinister enough to play either side of the character, and therefore we can never believe anything this character does, because Braun just consistently plays him as a socially-awkward nebbish without any discernible personality, making us question why the protagonist even fell for him in the first place. In a film like Cat Person, you are only as good as your scene partner, and thus Jones struggles to carry the film precisely because of Braun’s flaccid and unconvincing performance. There is a wonderful performance from the legendary Isabella Rossellini, who only has a couple of scenes but is one of the best parts of the film, while the main supporting presence comes on behalf of Geraldine Viswanathan, who overplays every scene and factors too heavily into a plot that didn’t need her to be as present as she was. The lack of character development and the fact that no one is doing particularly strong work is one of the many reasons why Cat Person feels so disappointed.

Cat Person is not a good film, but rather a work of mediocrity that has a few good moments, but unfortunately, no one involved had the good sense to develop these promising ideas, leading to a film that leaves us almost entirely ambivalent, wondering what this material could have achieved had it been given to someone with a more assured directorial vision. It is difficult to feel sympathy for anyone involved – it seems like everyone was only putting in half the necessary amount of effort, since not only is the writing weak and the direction almost non-existent, but the performances are half-hearted to the extent that we are never once convinced that these are real people, despite the scenarios around which the film is constructed being quite convincing. This is an obvious case of a great concept being let down by lacklustre filmmaking, and when the viewer begins to think of ways that it could be improved while in the middle of watching it, there is something amiss with the production. Mercifully, this film has not made too much of an imprint on either end of the critical or commercial spectrum, and seems to be primed to be entirely forgotten, which is perhaps the most appropriate fate for such a mediocre production – it is not even close to being good enough to be considered a decent entry into the genre, nor is it bad enough to be entertaining. Instead, it is a bundle of good ideas assembled in such a way that it makes very little impact – the humour is stale, the sense of fear is unconvincing and the story is predictable to the point where even the attempts to surprise us feel obvious. This is disappointing primarily because it could have been a definitive text on contemporary issues, and it had broader intentions – we look at films like Promising Young Woman and The Nightingale, which are similarly-themed films about the plight of women at the hands of cruel men, and we wonder where this film, which seemed to be progressive in its worldview, fell apart, despite having a relatively simple premise. It never amounts to anything, and the ending is beyond laughable – it’s just not a good film in any way, and we can only hope that a better version of these ideas (perhaps not this exact story, but one that is somewhat similar – unfortunately, real-world narratives along these lines are all far more disturbing) can be produced at some point.