pussy galore.

Less a review more a horrified rant.

Was rifling around my local charity shop t'other day when I came across this beauty.

Literally.

Yes dear friends I have seen pure evil and it's name is...

Cool for Cats (1992)
Dir: Liam Dale.
Cast: Peter Neville, some cats and a dog.

Before I start I'd like to admit that I have never owned, flirted with or shagged a cat but a friend of mine has two.

Two cats that is, not two things on the list.

So, as a good friend I purchased this for her, assuming this is the kinda thing felines watch.

You see, according to the back cover, this video is 'officially good feline therapy' and looking over host Professor Peter Neville's credentials who am I to argue?

Neville: Just the pussy he's been looking for.

Not only is he a Companion Animal Behaviour Therapist but was also a Clinical Professor at Miyazaki University and an Adjunct Professor at the Dept of Animal Sciences at The Ohio State University.

 Besides all that he also writers books about famous fascists.



Tho' I have no idea if he links these two hobbies together.

Mussolini: Pussy not shown (or shaved probably).

Before viewing I decided it'd be a good thing to immerse myself in cat culture to have a better idea of what to expect, obviously I personally wouldn't be able to experience the unique visual and aural frequencies (only heard/seen by, you guessed it, cats) used in the presentation but was intrigued as to why the video was labelled 'revolutionary'.

Did it contain hidden messages that will make my cute house cats turn raunchy revolutionaries with big guns?

Three boxes of tissues and a Pot Noodle later and I was ready to go.

A cat yesterday. Sort of.

After a short introduction regarding dormant cat hunting instincts from the Crippenesque Professor Neville, (more Dr. Shipman than Dr. Doolittle), the action really starts as we (humans and cats) are subjected to a 60 minute equivalent of the Ludvico Technique as interpreted a drug-fuelled ADHD suffering Mr. Tumble after spending three weeks on the isle of Lesbos.

And not in a good way.

"I'm shagging your weans!"

Whilst the frankly terrifying sounds of animals rutting fills your ears, your eyes are viciously assaulted by random shots of birds OD-ing on patio's plus panicking mice; both the real kind and occasionally some truly frightening fake ones that look like they've been stitched together from rotten, gangrenous flesh by hook handed Polish orphans, plus various types of fish banging their heads against the walls of their tanks alongside almost subliminal shots of bizarre wooly balls hanging limply from threads.

Oh yes, and frogs.

But that's not all.

Occasionally, after lulling our feline friends into a false sense of security, random images of dogs would appear intercut with almost pornographic footage of cats licking themselves as superimposed blurry blue dots move randomly around the screen.

I don't know if it's meant to affect mere humans but after only 30 minutes I discovered that I'd shat a kidney.

And can still see the blue dot weeks later.

Almost as if it's following me, telling me to do things.

Bad things.

To your mum.

Cat porn: Ban this sick filth!

  Shoddily made shite for sad single women, the greatest piece of arthouse cinema ever made or a feline version of the video from Ringu?

YOU decide.

But be warned, after viewing Cool for Cats your life (and sanity) may never be the same again.

"Laugh now!"

By the way, can you smell fish?