Dynamixor The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

FuzzyTagz If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

Catangro After playing with our expectations, this turns out to be a very different sort of film.

Staci Frederick Blistering performances.

BA_Harrison Virginal beauty Irena Gallier (Nastassja Kinski) travels to New Orleans to live with her estranged brother Paul (Malcolm McDowell), unaware that they both belong to a race of cat people who turn into black leopards after sex, and who only return to human form when they kill. John Heard plays Oliver Yates (John Heard), curator at the local zoo, who puts himself in serious danger by falling in love with Irena.Like Tony Scott's The Hunger (1983), Paul Schrader's remake of Jacques Tourneur's 1942 classic Cat People is a case of '80s style over substance, the pretentious, art-house aesthetic coming before everything else, the film often more closely resembling an expensive music video than a horror movie. But where The Hunger was boring in the extreme, Schrader's Cat People manages to be a little more watchable thanks to lots of nudity, some decent gore, one or two genuinely tense scenes, and even an An American Werewolf In London-style transformation for good measure (special make-up effects by Tom Burman).As far as the nudity is concerned, it's kit-off time for both sexes, with the 21-year-old Kinski happy to wander around completely nude for her role, Annette O'Toole (Superman II) going topless for a re-creation of the original film's swimming pool scene, Lynn Lowry (of George Romero's The Crazies) briefly baring her boobs (her bra hilariously popping open as she escapes a cat attack), a blonde woman getting naked for a romp with McDowell, Heard baring his butt for a sex scene, and McDowell going one step further by briefly flashing his tallywhacker.The gore includes the mauling of call girl Ruthie (Lowry), Ed Begley Jr.'s arm being ripped out of its socket by one of the zoo's big cats (this fatal injury probably a regular occurrence at the zoo given how easy it is to reach the animals through the bars!), and the naked blonde bird's blood drenched mangled corpse, her body on the floor, her severed arm left laying on a bed.Chuck in a brooding synth score by Giorgio Moroder, a neat ending (Irena, remaining in cat form, caged in the zoo), and a theme song by David Bowie, and what you have isn't a complete waste of time, but neither is it worth going out of your way to see.4.5 out of 10, rounded up to 5 for IMDb.

christopher-underwood I have always liked this film but have always been aware that I am in a minority and therefore have considered this an 'Unsung Horror', well worthy of inclusion in the WBD publication, if it were not for the 70s cut off. Its present status seems a little improved and maybe this is as we move further and further away from the 1942 black and white classic original. Schrader has said it was a mistake to give his film the same name and this has to be right for immediate comparisons were inevitable. But even putting this difficulty aside we are still left with the explicit sex and the gory violence in a mainstream film. Nastassja Kinski is lovely in this and carries through with some difficult scenes very bravely. Schrader does well to ensure that that potent mix of young and innocent and ruthless and deadly is maintained throughout, always making sure that we see the cat within the girl. There is some wonderful photography here, from the beautifully constructed zoo to the buildings of New Orleans and even though this is a very colourful film the director remains aware of the power of shadows. People burst from the blackness of rooms, the eeriness of the night scenes enhanced by long and dramatic shadowing, not to mention the recreation of the stunning swimming pool scene.

PimpinAinttEasy Dear Paul Schrader, I don't think you are a brilliant director or anything. But The Cat People had a lot going for it. You set it in a really interesting place like New Orleans. The architecture, heat, people, the food and the culture of the place are a big part of this horror film. You had two beautiful women in Natasjja Kinski and Anette O Toole. Malcolm McDowell is never boring. And good job filming that leopard. It looked sinister and evil. You packed the film with thrills and some great camera angles. You were working on a pretty big budget and it showed. The film was quite provocative with themes of incest and well ..... mating between leopards and humans. But I hated the scenes from the medieval era. They belonged in a low budget music video. While David Bowie's score was great, it did not really suit the place the film was located in. The film could have used a tighter editorial hand. It was really long at two hours. Some of the scenes went on and on. What was up with that? And some of the supporting actors and bit players were completely unremarkable. Nonetheless, this is a very entertaining erotic thriller. I don't think anyone would have the balls to make a film like this today. Best regards, Pimpin. (7.5/10)

Blake Peterson Though widely regarded as one of the finest horror films ever made, the original "Cat People", released in 1942, always struck me as a visual masterpiece luminous to the eyes but cold to the touch. It liked to hide in the shadows, keep its menace restrained, its mood gothically opulent; but when it placed fear directly in our line of vision it forgot to match emotionally, emitting a shallow kind of dread felt more cerebrally than physically. Horror should pump in our veins, causing us to look over our shoulder the second the film closes. Yet despite being called a horror film time and time again, I've never much considered "Cat People" to be one. Instead, I've figured it to be a grotesque fantasy of bloodlust and erotica, inventively packaged but too empty to make much of a lasting impression.Its remake, a 1982 fear-fest directed by Paul Schrader and starring Nastassja Kinski, is similar in its ability to optically arouse but remain intrinsically hollow. Whereas 1942's "Cat People" stimulated our sights with hypnotizing darkness and noir-tinged doom, the 1982 version conversely stupefies with its richly saturated colors and sexual heat. The original had a small budget to work with, director Jacques Tourneur and cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca perhaps accidentally making things visually unmistakable for the purpose of making up for monetary deficiencies. But Schrader, given larger financial opportunity, is able to work on a much larger scale, providing us with a more plentiful plot, more ocular risks, more enigmatic intrigue. I can hardly say if it's superior to its '42 counterpart — they hardly resemble one another, one restrained, one indulgent — but "Cat People" is an artistically formidable fantasy mostly worthwhile. If its overwhelming inability to do anything besides look great wasn't such a pressing issue, it could be considered a masterpiece.But the storyline doesn't allow us to become emotionally invested; conceptually marvelous yet unmistakably outlandish, it is difficult to do anything besides stare, mouth agape, unable to grab onto anything happening on the screen. Because it has to do with The Cat People, a race of centuries past so far evolved that, as of 1982, they resemble sexy humans who literally have an animal deep inside them. But things aren't as simple as they used to be: years ago, when The Cat People were still dominant cats that laboriously reclined on tree branches in windy red deserts (shown in the form of a prologue), mating would come in the form of a female sacrifice from a nearby village. Now, though, the race is almost completely extinct, save for Irena (Nastassja Kinski) and her brother, Paul (Malcolm McDowell).In the first few minutes of "Cat People", the two are meeting for the very first time — and while the impish Irena, sensuous but virginal, remains an innocent figurehead, Paul makes for a more sinister presence, not because he's a Shakespearean villain in the making but because he's more aware of his heritage than Irena is. In everyday life, The Cat People look like anybody walking down the street; but when in the throes of an orgasm, they transform from sexy human to black panther, killing their human mate in the process. Paul understands his threat to society and isn't afraid to utilize it; Irena, on the other hand, is afraid to unleash the beast that resides within her. The anxiety comes to a head, however, when she falls into the life of Oliver Yates (John Heard), a mild-mannered zookeeper who instantaneously bills her as the woman of his dreams. With her sexual nightmares looming in the background (and not to mention her brother, who wants to embark on an incestuous relationship like all Cat People before them), Irena just might have to accept who she is — at a price.The plot is less preposterous the less you think about it; this is, after all, the kind of film that thrives on eccentric chills that trickle down the spine, expecting us to come along for the dangerous ride and forget about any sort of question we might have. Thanks to Schrader's knowing handling of the material (he treats most of "Cat People" like an erotic art house picture, which is more fitting than something akin to a more conventional horror movie), the film doesn't face many concerns when it comes to structure. The problem with "Cat People" is its futile characterizations, which allows for interesting characters more fascinating to look at than to actually care about. Irena is fearful for what will become of her, but because the screenplay is more interested in giving Kinski ample opportunity to smolder, never is the impression quite made; Paul is maleficent, but it's unclear where his villainy will go. And Oliver, taking over Kent Smith's role from the original, is drawn out blandly. The actors are all lensed brilliantly — it's a shame they all remain so one- dimensional than even the more erotic elements of "Cat People" are slightly unexciting.But when John Bailey's cinematography isn't seducing our eyes, Kinski makes for the best thing about the film. A better actress than Simone Simon, she makes it impossible for us not to look at her; her full lips, sphinxy eyes, and Audrey Hepburn-like demeanor makes her a lithe sex object far too knowing to be exploited — she is magnificent. And for the most part, so is "Cat People". But it's so devoid of any kind of emotional interior that any sort of reaction is kept hidden. Fear? Arousal? Allure? It all wants to be there, but "Cat People" remains a devastatingly beautiful film without a heart.