The Hypnotic Stockholm Syndrome Of ‘Cats’

Cats (2019) is a bad movie. You know it’s bad. You might not have seen it, but you know it’s bad. Everyone and their mum have bellowed from the rooftops about it. Whether about the disturbing CGI child-mice, the frightening performances from Rebel Wilson and James Corden or the unbelievable spectacle that is Dame Judi Dench lifting her leg in appraisal of Sir Ian McKellen’s attempt at a theatrical ballad. But Cats is so much more than just “a bad movie”. Cats is life-changing.

When I sat down in my cinema seat on a frosty winter night back in 2019, I thought I was prepared for Cats. I had watched the trailers, laughed with friends about them. I reminisced about that time I almost walked out of a live performance of the show because I “didn’t get it”. But when those credits rolled I felt something that few movies are capable of producing. Adoration. Pure, unadulterated adoration. It captured me in ways I hadn’t felt since I watched The Room for the first time.

The year is now 2021. The last year has been an unprecedented, turbulent time for all. Though for me, there is one thing that has been a constant in my life. Cats. I watched Cats six times in 12 months. “Why?”, I hear you cry out. Well, because Cats has this unnatural, unique effect on me. An effect that can only be described as a form of Stockholm Syndrome.

“Wait, Are They Wearing Converse?”

It all begins with that first watch. Maybe you and your friends have heard the uncontrollable buzz surrounding the film and have decided to mock it together, or perhaps you’re braving the next two-hours alone. Regardless of your situation, you will share the same naivety as every other first-time viewer. A naivety that will soon collapse under the weight of the utter absurdity that is Cats.

From the very opening scene, you’ll be left dumbfounded. “What is a Jellicle cat?”, “Why are they doing ballet now?”, and “What are they actually singing?” are all questions that will flow through your head within just the first four minutes of the movie. With every passing minute, you’ll find something new to question. And that question, the vast majority of the time, will have no feasible answer. This is where you will find the beauty in Cats, its impossible-to-comprehend absurdity.

As Cats is essentially a sung-through musical, meaning that there is minimal dialogue between numbers, the pacing of the movie is actually, almost, decent. For first-time watchers, this pacing keeps the journey through absurdity fast-paced and fun. Just as you start to get used to the insanity of one number, another comes in to kick your expectations straight back to the ground and wake you up again. The sheer relentlessness of Cats makes that first watch a compelling, utterly bizarre and memorable event. One that you just need to share with others.

Sheer Schadenfreude

If that first viewing of Cats hits you as it hit me then you’ll quickly be known as “the one who won’t shut up about Cats” in your friend group. Your incessant “ironic” references and mock-singing are sure to wear your friends down sooner or later until finally, you pop the big question: “Can we watch Cats?”. It’ll be met with groans and looks of utter disappointment but, eventually, they’ll succumb, and Cats will go on to claim a few more victims.

This is the second stage of your experience with Cats, the schadenfreude level. For the next 110 minutes, you will find an abnormal amount of pleasure in watching your friends watch Cats. You’ll sit back and beam as they are shocked, bewildered, and taken aback with every scene, just as you once were. This shared experience manages to elevate Cats even further than you thought was imaginable. The absurdity of each lyric is amplified tenfold when you’re surrounded by people who vocalise exactly what you’re all thinking.

When the spectacle ends, the likelihood is that everyone will erupt into a frantic discussion about why you’ve done this to them and what you hoped to accomplish. Despite their apparent frustration, you know that they will get suckered in just like you and that in a few weeks time you’ll hear the question again. “Can we watch Cats?”.

“The Rum Tum Tugger Does Actually Slap Though”

In the case of most so-bad-they’re-good movies you watch them once or twice and they’ve fulfilled their purpose. You’ve managed to poke fun at just about every aspect of the movie and now you’re ready to move on. Cats won’t let you do this. There’s something so intrinsically wrong with Cats that every subsequent viewing of it brings something wholly new to the table. You start to notice the small things like background actors, particularly rough patches of already-awful CGI, set design and scaling issues. And this cycle continues…until it starts to turn the other way.

Around the time of my third or fourth viewing of Cats, I found myself mouthing the words to “The Rum Tum Tugger”. I should have known then that this was the beginning of the end. Flash forward to my fifth viewing and I started to compliment the intricate dance sequences, saying that “they’d be good if they weren’t all cats”. Now, on my seventh time re-visiting Cats, I find myself complimenting the lighting, colour palette, hell I even managed to praise the barebones use of costume for certain characters. Cats has managed to incept me so much that I’m now starting to think that this may actually be a work of genius.

I am well and truly suffering from Cats-based Stockholm Syndrome.

Not The Movie We Deserve, But Maybe The Movie We May Need Right Now

Putting it bluntly, life right now is generally pretty rough. A pandemic is sweeping the world, death tolls continue to rise, people are losing their livelihoods, and many people’s mental health is at an all-time low.

Expertly-written and directed movies will always have a place in the cinematic-landscape and are obviously some of the best forms of media to consume. But, right now, they’re not what everyone needs. A lot of us are finding comfort in the strange, nostalgic, or simple, and I believe that Cats can offer you an experience that is truly comforting and joy-filled.

The unique insanity of Cats is so far removed from the current real-world climate that it captures your attention immediately and holds onto it fiercely long after the movie has finished. So yes, Cats (2019) is a bad movie. But it may be exactly the type of bad movie that you need right now.

Words by Cameron Swan

Support The Indiependent

We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.