review(s) of 'the cat's meow'
to really appreciate and enjoy "the cat's meow," it's probably best if you know either the backstory of the event that is the subject of this film, or know something of the lives/careers of the actual people characterized in it.
i had seen it a couple of times over the 10 or so years since its release, but i didn't fully come to appreciate it until i saw it again just recently after reading "hollywood babylon." a whole new light was cast on the proceedings at the point where i finished that book, and saw this film again.
here's a n.y. times review, as well, to spark some further thought on early and latter-day hollywood, w.r. hearst, yaching weekends, and even babylon :-)
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Movie Review
The Cat's Meow (2001)
April 12, 2002
FILM REVIEW; A Mystery Looming Larger Than Rosebud
By A. O. SCOTT
Published: April 12, 2002
On Nov. 15, 1924, the Oneida, a luxurious yacht belonging to William Randolph Hearst, left San Pedro Harbor in Los Angeles for a pleasure cruise. The trip was both celebratory -- a floating birthday party for Thomas Ince, a legendary Hollywood producer -- and, as we would say these days, celebrity-studded.
On board, in addition to Hearst and Ince, were Marion Davies, the actress who was Hearst's mistress; Louella Parsons, who later became a feared gossip columnist for Hearst's chain of newspapers; Charlie Chaplin; and assorted starlets, jazz musicians and media heavies.
Not all survived the trip. The circumstances that led to the death of one of Hearst's guests have remained mysterious -- a ''history told in whispers,'' according to ''The Cat's Meow,'' Peter Bogdanovich's new film about the ill-fated voyage.
The movie, adapted by Steven Peros from his stage play, dramatizes a plausible scenario -- ''the whisper heard most often'' -- wherein the victim (whom the filmmaker has asked reviewers not to identify) was the accidental, though not entirely innocent, casualty of a love triangle involving Davies, Hearst and Chaplin. Though based in fact, ''The Cat's Meow,'' which opens today in Manhattan and Los Angeles, unfolds with the starchy artificiality of an English country house mystery. We know, thanks to an introductory funeral sequence from which the rest of the picture flashes back, that a death will occur, and we are quickly introduced to a finite cast of characters confined to a single, isolated location. Nearly everyone on board seems a likely candidate for the part of either killer or corpse.
Their host (Edward Herrmann), his bluff manner concealing a ruthless desire for control and a suspicious, insecure nature, spies on them through secret peepholes and microphones. The boat's narrow corridors and half-hidden staircases invite sneakiness and secrecy. Chaplin (Eddie Izzard), dogged by a sex scandal involving an under-age actress and by the failure of ''A Woman of Paris,'' his attempt at melodrama, pursues Davies (Kirsten Dunst) while Ince (Cary Elwes), his once stellar career on a downward course, pursues Hearst.
Meanwhile, the giddy, clumsy Lolly Parsons (Jennifer Tilly) annoys everyone, especially the gimlet-eyed novelist Elinor Glyn (Joanna Lumley), whose narration frames the story. As the passengers dance the Charleston and drink illegal hooch, strictly rationed by Hearst, the air grows thick with naughty intrigue.
Early Hollywood was a wasp's nest of sex and ambition, paranoia and duplicity. Not much has changed, except that the scandals and indiscretions of the silent era were in their way more lurid (and more likely to be fatal) than today's. Though the episode aboard the Oneida is full of ugly possibility -- it figures prominently in ''Hollywood Babylon,'' Kenneth Anger's indispensable bible of Tinseltown sleaze -- Mr. Bogdanovich's version is more respectful than prurient. His sympathy for the morally compromised, sexually confused and professionally ruthless voyagers is evident, and his satirical view of their behavior is affectionate rather than merciless.
The director's tender, forgiving regard for his subjects, even when they are at their worst, should hardly be surprising. Mr. Bogdanovich, the Icarus of the New Hollywood, knows a thing or two about the vicissitudes of reputation in the movie colony, and here he has set out to humanize names drawn from old gossip columns, including the gossip columnist herself. Hearst and Davies are rescued from the distortions to which Orson Welles, one of Mr. Bogdanovich's idols, subjected them in ''Citizen Kane.'' Davies, caricatured as a shrill, talentless gold digger in ''Kane,'' is here shown to be a witty, capable young woman, devoted to her Willy even as she is irked by the neediness behind his facade of command and drawn to Chaplin's feckless ardor.
''The Cat's Meow'' works best as a series of portraits knitted together by threads of speculation. Ms. Dunst is nimble and charming, conducting herself with a dignified frivolity that seems to suit the character and the period perfectly. Though Mr. Izzard does not look or move like Chaplin, the way Robert Downey Jr. did in Richard Attenborough's 1992 biopic, his depiction of the Little Tramp offscreen offers an incisive picture of Chaplin's charm and irresponsibility. The film critic Robert Warshow once observed that everything Chaplin did onscreen amounted to a demand to be loved, and Mr. Izzard, playing an incorrigible narcissist who is also a flirt, a cad and a genius, confirms this insight. The key to the movie is Hearst, and Mr. Herrmann, portly and slow-moving, acts with remarkable emotional agility, especially after the killing, when the mogul, having veered out of control, must reassert it. In the last scenes, he sheds his vain, shambling teddy-bear mannerisms and emerges at once as a monster and, for the first time, as a man worthy of love.
From his triumphs of the early 1970's -- ''The Last Picture Show,'' ''What's Up, Doc?'' and ''Paper Moon'' to the catastrophes that swiftly followed, Mr. Bogdanovich has always been steeped, or perhaps trapped, in the history of movies. He wanted both to pay tribute to masters like Welles, Howard Hawks, John Ford and Ernst Lubitsch and to match their achievements -- ambitions that may have proved contradictory.
''The Cat's Meow,'' his first movie in eight years, is a modest, restrained picture, as small and satisfying as one of Woody Allen's better recent efforts. There is little to distinguish it visually from a made-for-cable historical drama. We observe the events from a polite distance, rather than being plunged into the swirl of decadent Jazz Age high life. The suave camera movements never quite dispel the feeling that we are watching a filmed play.
But Mr. Bogdanovich, who started in the theater and at the moment is perhaps most widely recognized for his recurring role on ''The Sopranos,'' shows his mastery in his work with the actors, who turn dusty Tinseltown lore into a spry and touching entertainment.
''The Cat's Meow'' is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned) for a brief scene of violence, some sexual references, drug use and Prohibition-era boozing.
THE CAT'S MEOW
Directed by Peter Bogdanovich; written by Steven Peros; director of photography, Bruno Delbonnel; production designer, Jean-Vincent Puzos; produced by Kim Bieber and Carol Lewis; released by Lions Gate Films. Running time: 112 minutes. This film is rated PG-13.
WITH: Edward Herrmann (William Randolph Hearst), Kirsten Dunst (Marion Davies), Eddie Izzard (Charlie Chaplin), Cary Elwes (Thomas Ince), Jennifer Tilly (Louella Parsons) and Joanna Lumley (Elinor Glyn).
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gregory 43011.