This true story falls down a bizarre rabbit hole of gentle condescension about how to solve the problems of poverty and drug addiction.
I’m “biast” (pro): love cats I’m “biast” (con): nothing I have not read the source material
(what is this about? see my critic’s minifesto)
It’s like I, Daniel Blake, but with a cute cat in a little scarf thrown in to make everything turn out okay. If only Dan and his poor, desperate friends had marched into the JobCentre with a hamster or a puppy tossed over their shoulders, all their problems would have been solved. I think this is what our betters mean when they say people on benefits just need to try harder: Find something fluffy with big eyes, ya lazy scroungers. A Street Cat Named Bob may be based on a true story, of recovering heroin addict and London street musician James Bowen and the stray cat who befriended him, but this telling of it — from director Roger Spottiswoode (Tomorrow Never Dies) — puts the emphasis in all the wrong places. Instead of criticizing the idea that people seem to care more about some homeless guy begging on a street corner once he has a cat on his shoulder, or sitting on his guitar as he busks for coins, Bob celebrates that. One lady even knits those little scarves for Bob! (No word on whether she used to just walk straight past Bowen before he had Bob for company.) The movie ends — hardly a spoiler — with James (Luke Treadaway: Unbroken) doing a reading of the bestselling book of his experiences that this film is based on, which leaves you feeling like you’ve fallen down a bizarre rabbit hole of gentle condescension about how to solve the problems of poverty and drug addiction. I’m sure it was truly helpful for the real Bowen’s to have Bob around when he was suffering through methadone withdrawal, but as a story meant to be inspiring to a wide audience, it comes across as woefully dismissive of the massive widespread social issues underlying it, and our responses to them. Let them eat book contracts, I guess. The cat is cute, though.
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