Are you an absentee husband or father who, having just died in your sleep, fancy being resurrected into a black cat so you can meow and claw your way back into your loved ones’ floundering existence?
Or can you see yourself as an aging socialite with a drifter of a son saddled with Small Frank, the cat who equated his heretofore role as a biped to smothering “his people” with money?
If you’re any of the three, then Patrick DeWitt’s screenplay of his own novel “French Exit,” now streaming on Netflix after being released in 2020, maybe for you. It’s drop-dead hilarious in a dark way — not Tim Burton chocolatey dark — but one that’s highly nuanced so not all people may be able to relate.
Certainly, your enjoyment mileage may vary, especially if you’re into popcorn flicks and hates dialogue-driven movies. But if you can spare a tad short of two hours, go ahead and catch Michelle Pfeiffer as the self-entitled matron Frances Price oozing with gravitas despite thinly veiled regrets.
The erstwhile Catwoman’s “morbid vitality” carried DeWitt’s character who reeked of wry cynicism yet newfound appreciation of her erstwhile sheltered life with her son Malcolm, falling from grace with grace, or embracing the bottom of the wheel of fortune at life’s endgame with quiet dignity.
In “French Exit,” the novel may be seen as more than equal to the satirical movie. That’s saying a lot when film adaptations normally come up short — judged poorly — vis-a-vis their printed inspirations.
For Frances, the shift from being at the center of New York’s upper echelon to being forced to stay in a small Paris apartment was something she adapted to. It’s not like she had any choice. Acceptance for her was the only option, given her dwindling inheritance from Frank, the man.
In death, Frank being left to bloat away for hours between his being found lifeless by Frances and her reporting his demise to the police was the ultimate proof of how Price’s marriage soured, how he descended into indifference from the funny and caring man he used to be.
A seance session, following an attempt by France to strangle Small Frank the cat, revealed how dysfunctional the father-son relationship was too, as Malcolm dropped lifelong angst for the father who was “never there.”
Why Frank, the man, has had to return as a cat may be, in DeWitt’s mind, a way of giving him a second chance at redemption, of being forced to spend time with Frances and Malcolm. Or Small Frank the cat may be the cruel continuation of Frances’ and Malcolms’ penance, but for what the film was largely silent about.
I’ve had a couple of cats, but I’ve never been a cat person. Neither do I wish to return as a cat the way Frank did. And so, to all the people unfortunate enough to be saddled with this Contrarian’s presence, sorry. I’ll be dogging you.