Catcalls (2017) 💀💀💀💀

In Catcalls, writer/director Kate Dolan delivers an unflinching rebuke to both the male gaze and the threatening sexualization which often accompanies it. The film opens on a dashboard, looking out at darkened city streets, accompanied by the slow jazzy vocals of Donna Byrne singing Glimmer of your Smile. This subtle reminder of a common phrase targeted at women ("you'd look prettier if you'd smile more", and all of its variations), combined with the film's title, sets up what is to come. The car continues on, passing everyday scenes, each featuring the unsubtle day to day experiences of women trying to go about their lives. Men pointing, following, and leering. It is as unsettling as it is honest.

At last our protagonist, Martin O'Sullivan's Paul, is revealed on screen. The opening has been accompanied by his carefree whistling along to the music, falling silent as he pulls up behind two young women walking alongside the road. Under the pretext of asking for directions, he lures one of the women (Maeve) closer. He exposes himself to her, giggling as she recoils before rapidly driving away. O'Sullivan's performance is wholly unapologetic and enough to make one's skin crawl. There is no need for a deep dive into the complex functioning of man's psyche here, and O'Sullivan dips just far enough beneath the surface to expose the rot that is so often encountered.

As Paul returns home, the earlier, dreamy quality of the film's focus shifts into a stark, unattractive reality. We see Paul for what he is, repugnant and physically disarrayed. Upon meeting his wife (Sarah Kinlen as Jenny), it becomes clear that even his partner holds him in less than high regard. Instead of the unrealistically overattentive and fawning behavior that Paul might crave, Jenny grants him no more than acknowledgement. There is no real affection, he is not her equal, and more pressing matters concern her. His unexplained nighttime absence isn't worth asking about because there is no real reason to care. She is a woman well aware of the disappointment that is her husband.

As Jenny prepares to leave, the film sets up what could easily become a film about a man getting what he deserves. Even with a supernatural element, while gratifying, seeing Paul attacked and traumatized would be unlikely to evoke fear, or even a hint of sympathy. Instead of following this oft-taken path, Dolan's story delivers horror by way of tragedy. Without revealing the turn here, there is a truth to the moment that powerfully resonates.

Dolan strips bare the common male illusion of being ready for any crisis, give lie to the oft-heard "well, if I had been there...". Paul is paralyzed with fear, exposing the weakness within him that is reflected in his need to torment women whom he sees as helpless and weak. He stands, holding his phone, unable to dial, uncertainty on his face, as Jenny calls from the other room. 

The climax of the film follows a predictable arc of karmic retribution. There is a grim justice in how events unfold, particularly in Paul's desperate flight that mirrors the fear he previously inflicted. We are presented with a morality play dressed in horror, the parable of the man and the cat thing.

This film is an early offering from Kate Dolan and, on its face, certainly seems quite simple. However, the themes of the film continue to resonate, even as this review is written, challenging assumptions and characterizations to the point where even the language of review becomes suspect. To make one question the world around them is one of the greatest powers of film. Catcalls holds a mirror to society in ways both blatant and understated, misdirecting and thought provoking long after the credits have rolled. A simple film, with a complex undercurrent.

2017 ✶ 8m ✶ Color ✶ IE ✶ Director: Kate Dolan ✶ Screenplay: Kate Dolan ✶Music: Steve Lynch  ✶ Starring: Sarah Kinlen (Jenny), Edel Murphy (Meabh), Martin O'Sullivan (Paul), Cesca Saunders (Aiofe) ✶ Youtube.