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When
the Cat's Away
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In the mid '90s, Melbourne filmgoers experienced a rash of French art films of a sort that what would be described within the lingo of Australian pop culture as "Claytons" – faux samples (so named after a non-alcoholic beverage) that stand in for the real thing. When the Cat's Away, like The Apartment (1996), has many surface attributes of a contemporary, post Nouvelle Vague French movie: urban setting, beautiful young characters, a loose plot with a mystery-intrigue element, and a personal journey involving friendship, romance and sex. Cédric Klapisch's contribution to this loose genre is enjoyable but trifling stuff. The premise is deliberately slight. Chloé (Garance Clavel) loses her cat after leaving it with an elderly friend for a week. Tracking through the streets of Paris, she encounters a number of odd and endearing characters. There is a light ethnographic aspect to this film, very faintly reminiscent of Agnès Varda: a documentary-like cross-section of manners and lifestyles in a multi-cultural, multi-racial France. Eventually, Klapisch turns his attentions to Chloé's romantic destiny. Like in an Éric Rohmer movie, Chloé alternates between a gay friend (who plaintively inquires, "Don't you want some ambiguity in your life?"), a pretty but feckless young muso, and an unbearably soulful, mysterious older man. The publicity for this film pushes it as a tale of a woman's self-discovery. One of its pleasantly European aspects is the modesty of the main character's journey. Not even a minor French director like Klapisch could indulge the American mania for vast character arcs of righteous, moral development. Life-changes are registered subtly here (as they are in Claude Sautet's Nelly and Mr Arnaud [1995]) – only hinted at in Chloé's glances, her fleeting facial expressions, her sudden desire to dress up, hum a tune or run down the street. When the Cat's Away is whimsical and watchable, with a few touching, funny scenes, and a delightful pop soundtrack. But if you are looking for true French art cinema in a bright, modern vein, go straight to Rohmer's superb A Summer's Tale (1996). MORE Klapisch: Russian Dolls © Adrian Martin March 1997 |
