Kat (review)

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Great: now I’ve got something else to worry about when the cat’s acting weird. Like maybe it passed through a stygian portal into some infernal realm and has been transformed into a hellbeast bent on rending the flesh from human bones. Danish filmmaker Martin Schmidt’s quietly ooky thriller explores just such a possibility, and don’t think this doesn’t happen all the time. Maria’s (Liv Corfixen) life is falling apart: she’s failing law school, her boyfriend is cheating on her, and now there’s this thing with Athena, her Siamese, who snuck upstairs for the neighbors’ seance the other night and just hasn’t been the same friendly, sympathetic companion since. So all the gruesome murders suddenly taking place in Maria’s vicinity are an almost pleasant distraction from her depression and denial… or they would be, if only she weren’t getting all these weird, disturbing psychic flashes from the cat, which is, honestly, a sinister, sinewy, creepily cross-eyed creature. Darkly atmospheric and coolly composed, this stylish, shrewd flick — about the power of repressed female aggression and the importance of being really, really nice to kitty — is like a missing episode of The X-Files, only with less flashing of badges and more gore. Lots more. Meow.

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