The Cat�s Meow squanders the opportunity to enliven or satisfactorily explain an odd footnote in Hollywood history � an incident that apparently featured in the first draft of Citizen Kane. In 1924, media magnate William Randolph Hearst (Edward Herrmann) invited a select group aboard his steamer, the Oneida, for a weekend. The climax to the cruise was a murder but none of the guests were forthcoming as to what happened. The few accounts were contradictory. The Cat�s Meow purports to describe �the whisper most often told�.
As presented here, the cruise is ostensibly to celebrate the birthday of pioneering film producer Thomas Ince (Cary Elwes), whose career has fallen on hard times. It�s really been arranged so Hearst can spy on his mistress, starlet Marion Davies (Kirsten Dunst), in the presence of Charlie Chaplin (Eddie Izzard). She�s recently been seen around town with Chaplin, whose lust for young girls is legendary. Among the other guests are droll English novelist Elinor Glyn (Joanna Lumley) and aspiring movie columnist Louella Parsons (Jennifer Tilly), looking for a chance to make her name in Hollywood.
The Cat�s Meow suffers from being released only six months after Gosford Park, a far superior upper-crust period murder mystery. There were more characters in Gosford Park, but each was more complex than any of the handful on display here. The secondary roles have one function only - for instance, Margaret Livingston (Claudia Harrison) just wanders the boat looking sulky and telling other guests that she is Ince�s mistress. Even the main characters rarely stray beyond one dimension. Davies is alluring, Parsons wants to gossip, Glyn spouts witty and venomous one-liners, Hearst looks lost and jealous at the thought of Davies� betrayal, Ince is desperate to make the deal that will restart his career.
Only Izzard, who has to play the most recognised figure, injects flair and personality into his portrait of Chaplin. Lumley has too small a role to leave much impression, and Dunst is all over the place - convincingly of the period one moment, alarmingly contemporary the next.
I can�t imagine The Cat�s Meow was much more exciting on stage unless the actors were allowed to sparkle more than they do here (Steven Peros adapted his own play for the screen). Part of the problem is that most of these people were rich and conservative boors who purchased the latest trends and fashions and surrounded themselves with glamorous types in the hope of catching reflected stardust. They weren�t interesting in their own right. Glyn and Chaplin are soon bored at this party, in spite of the expensive entertainment, and so are we. Peros reduces the crux of the story to a routine love triangle.
Nor does The Cat�s Meow make for a compelling mystery. The film begins with a redundant black and white scene at a funeral: who dies? who�s the murderer? But if you�ve seen Citizen Kane or know even a little about Hollywood, you�ll know who of the main cast survives. And, frankly, the rest are too thinly sketched to bother about. As for the killer, since the incident was suppressed in the media, it�s not hard to deduce that Hearst may have been personally involved or else protecting someone close to him.
Peter Bogdanovich directs at a stolid pace. Aside from some of Izzard�s Chaplinesque flourishes, there�s nothing light or carefree about The Cat�s Meow. It says nothing new about Hollywood, only making several less than startling observations about money, power and morality. Even the heavy 1920s music and costumes and design threaten to smother the production.
�The cat�s meow� was 1920s slang, all but fallen from use today, for someone or something special. It's not to be taken as an indication of this film's quality.