The Night of a Thousand Cats


“When the cats are hungry … run for your lives!”
When hordes of cuddly kitty cats develop a taste for human flesh, things go from cute to crazy in less time than it takes to hack up a hairball in this purrrr-fectly ludicrous Mexican feline shocker! In The Night of a Thousand Cats, from infamous south-of-the-border schlock director Rene Cardona Jr. (Tintorera: Killer Shark), a handsome, wealthy playboy named Hugo (played by bearded, over-tanned exploitation vet Hugo Stiglitz, Zombie Apocalypse ) spends his days buzzing over the city in his super groovy make-out helicopter, scouting the streets for lonely, sexed-up women that he can whisk back to his creepy mansion in the hills where he proceeds to make love to them in a very far-out, early ‘70s kind of way (cue the scented candles, ceiling mirrors and shorty bathrobes). So far, so sexy, but the only problem is this inexplicably irresistible swinger has a nasty post-coital habit of feeding the bodies of his lovely playmates to the screeching horde of angry cats (a thousand of them, to be exact) that live in his basement, for no apparent reason. Our charming lothario does, however, like to keep one memento of his conquests – namely, their heads, floating in alcohol-filled glass jars in his rec room. Aided by his bald mute henchman Gorgo, Hugo is living la vida loca until the day one feisty young lady decides to fight back, and soon the night air will be filled with the terrifying sound of a thousand pissed-off pusses just itching to leave the basement. Jaw-dropping in concept and head-scratching in execution, The Night of a Thousand Cats is a bad movie lover’s dream, filled with unnecessary zoom shots, surreal dialogue, terrible dubbing, psychedelic fashions, awkward sex, logic holes one could drive a train through and, of course, the wondrously unfrightening sight of a thousand ordinary house cats being hurled through the air in a futile attempt to make them seem like vicious monsters. Meow! (Dir. by Rene Cardona Jr., 1972, Mexico, dubbed in English, 67 mins., Rated R) Digital