THE SHADOW OF THE CAT (1961)

Ella Venable is sitting alone at night in a room in her mansion, reciting "The Raven" to her beloved cat Tabitha. The old rich woman is set upon by her brother Walter, her butler Andrew, and her maid Clara. They kill her and bury her body in a swampy woods near her estate. Walter, also old and infirm, eventually calls the police to report that Ella is missing; the plan is that, when Ella is declared dead, the three killers will present a counterfeit will that leaves her estate to them instead of to her niece Beth. But we see that the cat witnesses the murder (shots from the cat's point of view are distorted and stretched) and begins slipping in and out of view of the killers, as though taunting them. Their varied attempts to get rid of or kill the cat all end in failure. Meanwhile, a police inspector arrives with his friend, reporter Michael Latimer. They are on the premises looking for Ella, but when Beth, the niece, arrives, Michael becomes very protective of her (yes, they soon fall in love). Walter, trapped in a cellar with the cat seemingly stalking him, has a heart attack and is laid up in bed, so he calls on his brother Edgar, Edgar's son Jacob, and his wife Louise to come help look for the genuine will so it can be destroyed, and also to get rid of the cat. From here, the film takes a predictable turn as attempts to kill the cat tend to go astray and result in the death of the would-be cat killer. But what about that pesky will?

This Hammer horror film is less well known than most of their 1960s output because for some reason, it was officially released by a one-shot company, BHP, and issued in the U.S. by Universal. Nevertheless, it has most of the Hammer hallmarks—an imposing mansion, gloomy rooms, a string of deaths (not graphic), and several people known for their Hammer work, such as Andre Morell (top billed as Walter), Barbara Shelley (Beth), Freda Jackson (Clara), and director John Gilling. I watched this because the Criterion Channel aired it as part of a Cat Film collection, and in that context, this is decent viewing, although the use of the cat leaves something to be desired. Bunkie, the real name of the cat who plays Tabitha, is cute but almost too cute to seem really menacing. In shots of her watching and stalking the villains, she looks like she's placidly waiting for someone to pet her. Occasionally you see her being chased, but she never really looks vengeful, or even irritated. The actors are all pretty much low-energy B-level performers, except for the old pro Barbara Shelley who works up some chemistry with Conrad Phillips (the reporter) and Alan Wheatley who is low-key but effective as the inspector. The gloomy gothic black & white cinematography is also a plus. A big minus is the absolutely awful discordant score by Mikis Theodorakis (Zorba the Greek, Z). The opening 10 minutes or so are made very irritating by the noisy and shrill background music, though it gets more tolerable as it goes on. [Criterion Collection]