Cat People

Synopsis: Serbian national Irena Dubrovna, a fashion sketch artist, has recently arrived in New York for work. The first person who she makes a personal connection with there is marine engineer Oliver Reed. The two fall in love and get married despite Irena's reservations, not about Oliver but about herself. She has always felt different than other people, but has never been sure why. She lives close to the zoo, and unlike many of her neighbors is comforted by the sounds of the big cats emanating from the zoo. And although many see it purely as an old wives' tale, she believes the story from her village of ancient residents being driven into witchcraft and evil doing, those who managed to survive by escaping into the mountains. After seeing her emotional pain, Oliver arranges for her to see a psychiatrist to understand why she believes what she does. In therapy, Dr. Judd, the psychiatrist, learns that she also believes, out of that villagers' tale, that she has descended from this evil - women w
Director(s): Jacques Tourneur
Production: RKO Pictures
  1 win & 2 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.4
Rotten Tomatoes:
93%
NOT RATED
Year:
1942
73 min
660 Views


Thank you.

You won't believe this,

you've probably heard it before...

...but I've never known any artists.

I am not an artist.

- Well, what's all this?

I do sketches for fashion drawings.

May I see it?

- Oh, no, it's not good.

If I let you see it, you might not

want to know any artists, ever.

I'm afraid it would have to be pretty bad

to do that. Besides, look:

'Let no one say,

and say it to your shame...'

Irena Dubrovna, is that a Russian name?

No, I'm from Serbia.

- Oh, I see.

Would you mind spelling it?

Want to know how to spell my name?

Are you going to write me a letter?

- I'd like to write you a letter.

What about?

- I would say in this letter:

'Dear Miss Dubrovna...'

I would say, 'Will you have tea with me?'

In that case, I'd just have

to write you another one. I'd say...

Here's my house.

Perhaps, Mr. Reed, you would like

to have tea in my apartment?

Oh, Miss Dubrovna...

...you make life so simple.

You know...

...I never cease to marvel at what lies

behind a brownstone front.

Well, what's the matter?

- Nothing.

But you...

You looked at me in such a funny way.

- I've never had anyone here.

You're the first friend I met in America.

Oh, I know lots of people in business.

Editors, secretaries,

other sketch artists, you know.

But you might be my first real friend.

- Thank you.

Nice.

- That's Lalage.

Lalage?

- The perfume I use. I like it.

Perhaps too well. Maybe I use

too much of it, living alone like this.

It's hard to describe.

Not like flowers, exactly. It's...

It's like something warm and living.

What's that?

It's the lions in the zoo.

One can hear them here often.

Many people in this building complain.

The roaring keeps them awake.

And you don't mind it?

- No.

To me, it's the way the sound

of the sea is to others:

Natural and soothing. I like it.

Some nights there is another sound,

the panther.

It screams like a woman.

I don't like that.

Oh, I hadn't realized how dark

it was getting.

I like the dark. It's friendly.

No, no, keep still, please.

Are you admiring my statue?

- Not exactly.

Who's it supposed to be?

- King John.

Oh, King John, the Magna Carta

and all that stuff?

No. King John of Serbia.

He was a fine king.

He drove the Mamluks out of Serbia

and freed the people.

Well, why have this around?

- Well, perhaps you have in your room...

...a picture of George Washington

or Abraham Lincoln.

Well, what does it mean?

Why is he...? Why is he spearing that cat?

- Oh, it's not really a cat.

It's meant to represent the evil ways

into which my village had once fallen.

You see, the Mamluks

came to Serbia long ago...

...and they made the people slaves.

Well, at first, the people were good...

...and worshipped God

in a true Christian way.

But little by little, the people changed.

When King John drove out the Mamluks...

...and came to our village...

...he found dreadful things.

People bowed down to Satan...

...and said their Masses to him.

They had become witches...

...and were evil.

Well, King John put some of them

to the sword...

...but some...

...the wisest and the most wicked...

...escaped into the mountains.

Now do you understand?

Well, I still don't see

what it has to do with you.

Those who escaped,

the wicked ones...

...their legend haunts the village

where I was born.

Boys who come to tea

can't expect to stay to dinner.

Some other time perhaps.

Tomorrow?

Well, what time tomorrow?

Dinner?

A little more to the left, Harry.

Easy. Just a hair.

I'm afraid she's gonna be all right, Alice.

- She's got what it takes, commodore.

Isn't it a darling?

Where'd you get it?

- I bought it.

You're not going in for cats, are you?

- No, I bought it for a friend.

We arrive at the inescapable conclusion

that our Oliver has a girl.

A brilliant deduction, Carver.

I want to show you something.

- A girlfriend?

A girl.

- Anybody I know?

Not yet, but I know you'll like her.

Well, if you like her,

she's okay with me.

Well, hello.

- Look, Irena. I brought you a present.

Why, you little devil.

Oh, it's all right.

It's just that cats don't seem to like me.

Yeah, but this is only a kitten.

It's very friendly.

When I had it in the office...

...Alice, that's the girl who works

in our department...

...it played with her.

Cats just don't like me.

Oh, I know what we can do.

You got it at a pet store, didn't you?

- Yes.

Good. Well, we could exchange it

for some other pet.

I'll get my coat.

I'd like to exchange this kitten for a canary.

- You'll have to talk louder.

What did you say?

- I can't understand a word you say.

I can't imagine what...

Oh, landie, dearie me. I can't imagine

what got into them.

All that caterwauling.

The last time they did that was

when an alley cat got in...

...and ate up one of my nice Rice finches.

I wanted to exchange this kitten for a bird.

Why, of course.

I have some lovely canaries.

One little lemon-colored fellow

with top notes like Caruso.

As peaceful as my dream of heaven.

Shall we go back now

and select just which little birdie?

You go, please, Oliver.

You pick the one you like.

I'd rather stay here.

Of course. I'll only be a minute.

Animals are ever so psychic.

There are some people

who just can't come in here.

My dear brother's wife, for instance.

She's a very nice girl.

I have nothing against her...

...but you just should see what happens

when she puts her foot inside this place.

The cats particularly.

They seem to know.

You can fool everybody, but landie,

dearie me, you can't fool a cat.

They seem to know who's not right,

if you know what I mean.

Here we are.

Isn't he a ducky little angel?

This is it.

- Thank you.

What do you think of it?

- Oh, he is sweet.

He will like me very much.

You will see.

I like to be liked.

- That ought to be easy. Really easy.

Irena.

- Yes.

I've been asleep.

- I know.

It couldn't have been

very entertaining for you.

I was watching you.

And that was fun?

Do you love me, Irena?

You know I love you, don't you?

I've never kissed you.

Do you know, that's funny.

Why?

- Well...

When people in America are in love,

or even think they're in love...

...they've usually kissed long ago.

Well?

Irena, what's wrong?

I've lived in dread of this moment.

I've never wanted to love you.

I've stayed away from people...

...I lived alone.

I never wanted this to happen.

- But you just told me you love me.

I do.

I do.

I've fled from the past...

...from things you could never know...

...or understand.

Evil things.

Evil.

Irena...

...you've told me something of the past.

About King John and the witches

in the village...

...and the cat people descended from them.

They're fairy tales, Irena.

Fairy tales heard in your childhood.

Nothing more than that.

They've nothing to do with you, really.

You're Irena.

You're here in America.

You're so normal, you're in love with me,

Oliver Reed, a good, plain Americano.

You're so normal,

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote

DeWitt Bodeen

DeWitt Bodeen (July 25, 1908, Fresno, California — March 12, 1988, Los Angeles, California) was a film screenwriter and television writer best known for writing Cat People (1942). more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Cat People" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/cat_people_5183>.

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