There’s a rule in horror: if you’re going to make a movie about a killer cat goddess, it needs to do one of two things—either embrace the absurdity, or genuinely scare us. The Cat Creature does neither. Instead, it curls up like a sleepy tabby, occasionally meowing, but mostly just wasting everyone’s time.
At 74 minutes, it’s mercifully short. Unfortunately, it still feels like a full evening’s slog.
A Tribute That Misfires
Directed by Curtis Harrington, The Cat Creature was intended as a tribute to the low-budget Val Lewton chillers of the 1940s—films that conjured atmosphere, dread, and psychological nuance without the need for visible monsters. Cat People (1942) proved you could terrify audiences with a shadow. The Cat Creature, in contrast, tries to terrify us with a heavily sedated taxidermy prop and some stock sound effects that might’ve been lifted from The Jungle Book.
This ABC Movie of the Week was scripted by none other than Psycho author Robert Bloch—whose best contribution to horror was evidently a one-time event. While Bloch once stabbed cinema in the shower with his storytelling brilliance, here he just paws at old tropes and loses them under the couch.
The Plot: Ancient Amulet, Modern Snooze
A mummy. An amulet. A curse. A dead appraiser. A black cat that roars like a jackal and kills like a ninja with a nail file. If that sounds exciting, you haven’t seen how painfully not exciting The Cat Creature makes it.
It all kicks off with Frank Lucas (Kent Smith, in an act of career penance for appearing in Cat People) opening a sarcophagus and triggering an ancient Egyptian curse. A thief (Keye Luke, bless him) steals a cat-headed amulet, which apparently unlocks the wrath of Bastet—or perhaps just a disgruntled feline in need of a union rep.
Soon enough, people are turning up clawed and mauled, and nobody seems particularly concerned about it. Lt. Marco (Stuart Whitman) investigates, along with an archeologist, Roger Edmonds (David Hedison), who mostly stands around looking vaguely academic. Meredith Baxter plays a salesgirl caught in the middle, which mostly means she looks at things in fear and provides the love interest without any real chemistry.
And of course, there’s Gale Sondergaard as Hester Black, the antique shop owner, because every good made-for-TV horror needs a woman in a cloak whispering cryptic warnings like she’s auditioning for a Vincent Price dinner party.
Production by Afterthought
This is one of those films where you can sense the post-production panic seeping through every awkward pause. Robert Bloch himself admitted that the movie ended up twelve minutes too short after being told it was twelve minutes too long. Sets were already dismantled, so the film had to be padded like an off-brand bra—haphazardly and with visible seams.
The result? Endless walking, exposition dumps about cat goddesses, and reaction shots of confused actors watching something just off-screen, presumably a production assistant shaking a string.
Robert Bloch Deserved Better—So Did the Cat
The saddest part about The Cat Creature is that it doesn’t even deliver bad-movie fun. It’s too safe, too restrained, and too interested in whispering ominously about curses that never manifest in satisfying ways. At one point, we’re told the killer cat has “glowing green eyes.” When it finally shows up? Let’s just say if it glows, it does so with all the menace of a nightlight.
Bloch’s script lumbers along, referencing the occult, Egyptian mythology, and the usual Lovecraft-lite trappings. But it’s clear no one involved quite believed in the story—least of all the actors, who deliver lines with all the enthusiasm of people waiting for their catering trays to arrive.
Performances as Lifeless as the Mummy
Meredith Baxter is charming enough, but she’s handcuffed by the material. David Hedison (best remembered for The Flyand Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea) plays Roger like a man hoping this job will lead to something more serious. Gale Sondergaard does her usual “cryptic witch” routine with grace, but it’s a shame to see her trapped in a film that doesn’t know what to do with her gravitas.
John Carradine pops up as a hotel clerk, just long enough to be recognizable and underutilized—a common theme here.
An Homage That Needed a Soul
Homages work when the filmmakers understand the spirit of what they’re honoring. The Cat Creature remembers the shadows and mood of Lewton’s films but forgets their intelligence. What we get instead is a highlight reel of clichés: creepy antiques, convenient curses, and a killer that should’ve been named Mr. Fluffy.
You don’t need buckets of blood to scare us. You need a story, a sense of stakes, and characters who do more than recite exposition while wandering through half-lit sets.
Final Thoughts: Dead on Arrival, and Not in a Good Way
The Cat Creature isn’t offensive, just dull. It’s the kind of movie that might’ve looked intriguing in a late-night TV guide but turned out to be the cinematic equivalent of warm milk.
There’s no terror, no tension, and no fun. Just a cat. And not even a scary one.
Final Grade: D+
If you’re a die-hard completist of made-for-TV horror—or you really need to see Meredith Baxter get chased by a stuffed animal—this might warrant a curiosity watch. For everyone else? Let this one stay buried in its sarcophagus.
