Cast: Garance Clavel, Zinedine Soualem, Olivier Py, Renee Le Calm, Romain Duris, Joel Brisse
Director: Cedric Klapisch
Producer: Aissa Djabri
Screenplay: Cedric Klapisch
Cinematography: Benoit Delhomme
U.S. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
In French with subtitles
Part documentary, part narrative fiction, When the Cat's Away represents one of the year's most offbeat approaches to a character study. Set in Paris' Bastille quarter, Cedric Klapisch's film offers an involving, occasionally poignant portrait of an insecure twentysomething woman named Chloe (Garance Clavel). At the same time, the movie examines the changing face of the city, as trendy shops replace older, family-run businesses, supermarkets supplant Mom and Pop stores, and apartment buildings are renovated to cater to a younger crowd. Indeed, although Klapisch doesn't dwell upon Paris' gentrification, it represents one of his film's important subtexts (watch for the highly symbolic scenes depicting the destruction of an old building).
It's no accident that much of When the Cat's Away has a "real" feel – many of the supporting performers, who are playing themselves, are amateurs with no previous acting experience. In fact, Klapisch was so intrigued by the colorful secondary characters that he greatly expanded the movie's length (it was originally devised as a 20-minute short) to take advantage of their presence.
When the Cat's Away begins with the search for a lost animal, but develops into something more sublime and revealing. At the film's opening, we meet Chloe as she is making final preparations for her first vacation in three years. Up to this point, however, she has been unable to find anyone to care for her beloved cat, Gris-Gris. Her gay roommate, Michel (Oliver Py), is unwilling to put himself out, so she is forced to ask around the neighborhood. Her inquiries lead her to Madame Renee (Renee Le Calm), a known cat-sitter. Chloe leaves Gris-Gris with the elderly woman, then leaves for two weeks at the seaside. She returns to learn that Gris-Gris has run away, leaving Madame Renee in a state of near-panic.
The film progresses with Chloe searching the neighborhood for Gris-Gris. In the process, she meets many of the people who live nearby, but with whom she has never come into contact. There's a shy, insecure young Arab named Djamel (Hate's Zinedine Soualem) who is more than willing to help Chloe as she scours the streets, a grungy musician (Romain Duris) who catches her eye, and, most memorably, a group of Madame Renee's friends, all of whom seize upon this minor emergency as a means of adding spice to routine existences.
As she interacts with neighbors for the first time and later sits alone at home, listening to her roommate entertaining a lover, Chloe becomes aware of her own isolation and loneliness. Suddenly, When the Cat's Away is no longer about finding Gris-Gris, it's about Chloe discovering meaning in her life. The cat becomes a metaphor for companionship, and Chloe opens herself to emotional risks she would not normally consider in an effort to find someone with whom she can connect. Her plaintive question of "Why am I all alone?" is one that many individuals across the world can relate to.
Klapisch's decision to rely upon many unproven actors has mixed results. Some of them are clearly raw, occasionally delivering lines awkwardly. Others, on the other hand, such as the eccentric Madame Renee, are natural performers, and they provide the film with some of its best comic sequences. When the Cat's Away's real revelation, however, is newcomer Garance Clavel, who is hypnotizing as Chloe. Not only is Clavel an excellent actress with expressive features, but she has an undeniable screen presence. The camera loves her, and it's obvious that one reason we become so attached to Chloe is because of the way in which Clavel brings her to life.
When the Cat's Away claims a premise so simple that it's easy to wonder how a full length feature could be developed from it, but the results are profound and moving. There's a little bit of Chloe in all of us, I think, and that's why it's so easy to relate to this searching young woman. Klapisch injects enough comedy to keep When the Cat's Away light, but not so much that he turns it into a farce or dilutes the film's dramatic content. This picture is yet another unconventional French export worthy of notice, and is a welcome addition to the season's movie schedule.
© 1997 James Berardinelli