Why Cats (2019) Became a Cinematic Nightmare: An Honest Analysis

The Unsettling Legacy of a Jellicle Disaster

Let's address the elephant—or rather, the digitally furred cat—in the room. If you've watched Tom Hooper's 2019 adaptation of Cats, you likely emerged with existential whiplash. The film's closing promise that you now "understand the Jellicle Ways" feels like cruel irony. As someone who dissected this cultural car crash frame by frame, I can confirm: nothing prepares you for its psychedelic horrors. Whether you're processing trauma or analyzing cinematic failure, this breakdown reveals why Cats became synonymous with unintentional dread. We'll examine its narrative incoherence, uncanny valley excess, and deeply uncomfortable sexual subtext—all through the lens of film theory and viewer psychology.

Narrative Collapse: When Absurdity Obscures Plot

Cats hinges on a simple premise: Cats gather for the Jellicle Ball, where Old Deuteronomy (Judi Dench) selects one to ascend (die?) via balloon to the "Heaviside Layer." Yet the execution drowns this in Seussian nonsense. Victoria, the white abandoned cat, should serve as our audience surrogate. Instead, her presence highlights the film’s refusal to guide newcomers. Key structural flaws include:

Character Soup: Cats introduce themselves through repetitive songs (e.g., "I am [Name] the Cat!") without context. Grizabella—the "hated" winner—earns redemption through a villain subplot involving Macavity (Idris Elba), but motivations remain opaque.
Metaphysical Confusion: The "rebirth" erases memories, rendering it indistinguishable from death. This undermines characters' desperation to "win," making their enthusiasm feel pathological.
Macavity’s Incoherent Scheme: As a kidnapper aiming to win by default, his plan feels tacked on—a weak attempt at tension in a plotless void.

The core issue? Theatre thrives on abstract absurdity; film demands internal logic. Hooper’s direction amplifies confusion instead of resolving it.

Digital Grotesquerie: Uncanny Valley as Home

Cinema’s relationship with dance hinges on human physicality—but Cats replaces bodies with CGI monstrosities. The result isn’t just bad; it’s biomechanically upsetting. Consider these violations of reality:

Failed Fur Technology: Cats’ scale shifts constantly—tiny in one scene, human-sized in another. Their fur interacts unnaturally with light, creating a plasticine sheen.
Human-Face Nightmares: Dancers’ faces float like masks (Robert Fairchild) or appear on mice/roaches. Rebel Wilson "unzipping" her skin to reveal another identical skin is body-horror masquerading as comedy.
Nudity Without Context: Idris Elba’s sudden full-frontal feline nudity shatters suspension of disbelief. When clothes vanish, all cats feel indecent—a sea of Ken-doll-smooth genitalia writhing in a junkyard.

This isn’t just poor VFX. It’s a fundamental miscalculation: Dance requires awe at human limits. Digital bodies erase that awe, leaving only dread.

Subtextual Carnality: When "Jellicle" Means "Jarring"

Beneath the chaos lies something darker: unintended eroticism. The script avoids sexual themes, yet the cinematography screams them:

Camera angles emphasize crotch-thrusting choreography.
Cats end songs sprawled in post-coital poses.
Judi Dench’s leg-scissoring gesture—an image burned into my retinas—exemplifies this disconnect.

Why does this unsettle? Subtext clashes with text. We’re told these are whimsical cats; we see hypersexualized human-cat hybrids. The brain rejects this dissonance, triggering visceral revulsion.

Cultural Impact and Lessons Learned

Cats grossed $75 million against a $100M budget and won 6 Razzies. But its real legacy? A case study in failed adaptation:

Respect the medium: Stage surrealism ≠ film surrealism.
CGI demands restraint: Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
Audience surrogates need clarity: Victoria’s role was botched, leaving viewers adrift.

Actionable Takeaways for Filmmakers:

✔️ Test VFX early with diverse audiences.
✔️ Clarify internal rules (e.g., clothing logic).
✔️ Prioritize coherence over spectacle.

"The film is permeated with a subtextual horniness that is made unsettling by virtue of being subtextual."
This encapsulates Cats' core sin: It whispers what it should silence or shouts.

Final Thoughts: Beyond the Heaviside Layer

Cats fails not from ambition, but from artistic myopia. It misunderstands film, dance, and audience psychology. Yet its infamy offers value: a cautionary tale about adapting beloved works. If you’ve seen it, which moment haunts you most? For me, Dench’s aerial leg scissors broke reality. Share your "scarred for life" scene below—let’s find solace in collective trauma.

Further Exploration:

The Uncanny Valley in Film (MIT Press) – Analyzes digital humanoids.
Musical Theatre to Screen (Oxford Academic) – Explains adaptation pitfalls.
Corridor Crew’s "VFX Artists React to Cats" (YouTube) – Technical post-mortem.