Review: Bogdanovich’s ‘Cat’s Meow’ hardly the pick of the litter

Geoff Carter

Friday, April 26, 2002 | 9:55 a.m.

Grade: **

Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Eddie Izzard, Edward Herrmann, Cary Elwes, Joanna Lumley and Jennifer Tilly.

Screenplay: Steven Peros.

Director: Peter Bogdanovich.

Rated: PG-13 for sexuality, a scene of violence and brief nudity.

Running time: 112 minutes.

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As shipboard farces go, "The Cat's Meow" is something of a dinghy. Peter Bogdanovich directs it as if he were seasick, banging from one set piece to another trying to get some air. He never does -- all his actors are breathing it in, and expelling mostly fog. Similar to "Gosford Park," "The Cat's Meow" feels atavistic, and not in the way it wants to be: It plays as though it should have been made in the 1970s, when the deck could have been stacked with Ryan O'Neal and Cloris Leachman.

O'Neal would have undoubtedly played Thomas Ince, the Hollywood producer played in this film by Cary Elwes. Ince died under mysterious circumstances after a cruise on William Randolph Hearst's yacht in November 1924. Others in the party included Charlie Chaplin (Eddie Izzard, too heavyset for the part but fine), columnist Louella Parsons (Jennifer Tilly), novelist Elinor Glyn (Joanna Lumley), Hearst's mistress Marion Davies (Kirsten Dunst), and of course Hearst himself (Edward Herrmann).

None ever spoke of the death except in "whispers, years later," Lumley says in the narration. This version is "the whisper told most often," and as such is given to exaggeration and poor judgement. It teeters between being boring and merely slight, and the few pockets of emotion we find evaporate quickly. "The Cat's Meow" was adapted from a play and remains one; Bogdanovich has his actors shouting into the darkness, crying for any sign of land.

At least the actors have dedication enough to go down with the ship. Dunst, sweet and genuine, is a marvel -- as affecting as the forlorn version of "After You've Gone" she sings over the end credits. As Chaplin, Davies' would-be lover, Izzard seems to pull the camera to him; without him the film would drift. Elwes plays the opportunistic Ince with only a touch of the sliminess he can pour on in one-note villain roles.

Herrmann is awkward physically, but composed almost to a fault; he plays Hearst as a guilty man from the outset. And Lumley, who is to this film as Maggie Smith was to "Gosford Park," almost seems to float through her scenes, planting murmured asides under the other characters' chins and stepping away before they explode. She's an evil indulgence, similar to cigarettes or chocolate.

"The Cat's Meow" could have used 10 Lumleys. They would have banged this slight character drama shipshape; made it into a beautiful dark comedy that could sail even in shallow water. As it is, most of it washes away with the tide when the characters go ashore, and you realize the whole episode was just that -- a bout of seasickness that dissipates with the first breath of fresh air you take after the end credits.