The Curse of the Cat People (1944, Gunther V. Fritsch & Robert Wise) (Patreon)

55/100

Revisiting Cat People immediately beforehand was probably a mistake, turns out. This is just the damndest direct sequel I've ever seen, at once dependent upon and utterly divorced from its predecessor; any attempt to reconcile the two is doomed, yet I'm not sure whether Curse would make much sense to a viewer who's not familiar with Irena. They'd presumably just perceive her as Daddy's first wife, who died for reasons never specified...and the story kinda works that way? Maybe? Hard to say, frankly. Having literally just finished watching Irena stalk and murder people in a jealous feline rage, I had trouble rolling with her instantaneous transformation into Glinda the Good Witch, more or less—a figure of bottomless understanding and empathy, devoted to the daughter of her former rival. And even when I try to ignore Cat People and imagine this as a separate entity (titled Amy and Her Friend, as Lewton reportedly desired), coherence still seems in short supply. There's no thematic connection that I can discern between Amy's need for an imaginary friend and Mrs. Farren's insistence that her adult daughter is an impostor; that whole subplot seems to exist simply because otherwise there'd be no threat at all in this ostensible chiller. Well, except for references to the Headless Horseman, which likewise feel grafted on rather than integral to anything. I know this isn't the case, but the dual credit to Von Fritsch and Wise suggests a battle royale that saw one of them trying to make a delicate psychological case study of a sensitive child and the other trying to make, y'know, Cat People 2, with the latter getting in the way of the former. In reality it appears to have been more Lewton vs. RKO, but same result.

Shame, because I definitely do see the nucleus of a movie that I might have loved. (Basically Phoebe in Wonderland with a different diagnosis and a b&w '40s aesthetic.) Ann Carter, as Amy, is a truly amazing find, capable of thousand-yard stares that somehow amp gentle curiosity up to 11; think the wholesome flip side of Billy Mumy in "It's a Good Life," albeit still with a touch of unnerving eeriness. Von Fritsch and Wise—who worked separately, not together; Von Fritsch was fired for falling well behind schedule—were both making their first feature, and Curse lacks Tourneur's stunning pool-of-light setpieces...but Nicholas Musuraca returned as D.P. and shoots one of cinema's most magical-looking snowy forests. Sir Lancelot radiates humane charisma as a domestic who carries himself more like someone who's been granted power-of-attorney—quite remarkable for the era. Divorce this film from Cat People and I'd likely be less bothered by how comparatively bland Jane Randolph's Alice is here, plus not wonder why Irena sings a French Christmas Carol rather than a Serbian one. (Admittedly her accent was always French.) There's plenty of potential evident, and probably no scene that I don't appreciate in a vacuum to some degree. It's the gestalt that doesn't work. Maybe at some point down the road I'll try taking another look with the original film as a fainter memory (though I've now seen it three times, so it's getting pretty ingrained). My intentions were good, but I clearly did this singular "sequel" no favors.