If you’re in the mood for a film that blends the sophistication of Amicus Productions with the confused charm of a budget horror flick from the 1970s, then The Uncanny will surely meet your expectations—provided those expectations involve watching a bunch of stiff performances, a whole lot of cats, and a script that feels like it was written by a conspiracy theorist convinced that felines are plotting global domination.
Let’s set the scene: The Uncanny is essentially an anthology film wrapped around a frame story involving Wilbur Gray (Peter Cushing), a writer with an obsession so deep that even The Cat in the Hat would say, “Dude, calm down.” He’s convinced that cats are supernatural, devilish creatures manipulating humanity from the shadows. I mean, who hasn’t looked at their cat and thought, “Oh yes, this fluffy creature with a permanent resting face of disdain is definitely plotting my demise”? Wilbur goes on to tell three tales to explain his beliefs, and each is a more absurd iteration of the cat-is-evil trope.
Plot: “A Cat-astrophic Trilogy”
The film’s first story takes us to London in 1912, where a rich lady named Miss Malkin (Joan Greenwood) leaves her fortune to her cats instead of her nephew, Michael. Why? Because why not. This, of course, sets off a murder spree that, once again, proves that cats don’t just knock things off counters for fun—they’ll literally eat your face off if you wrong them. The big reveal here? The cats eat the bodies of the perpetrators, which, I’ll admit, is a fun visual. If you’ve ever wanted to watch cats doing real work (other than silently judging you while you eat breakfast), this is the story for you.
Then we head to Quebec in 1975, where an orphaned girl, Lucy, has to live with her cruel aunt and cousin. Of course, her one solace is her cat, Wellington. The cousin, Angela, frames the poor creature for some petty misdeeds, and after the cat is banished, Lucy uses witchcraft (thankfully, just a book and not actual witchcraft because, you know, who wants to deal with that) to make Angela shrink to the size of a mouse. Which sounds fun until you realize the girl can’t even get a decent prank going without bringing out real evil magic. But hey, at least the cat is avenged, and the movie continues to march onward through more absurdity.
The final story takes us to Hollywood in 1936, where an actor named Valentine De’ath (and, yes, that’s his actual name) tries to murder his wife with a deadly pendulum, only for her cat to take revenge by putting him in a makeshift iron maiden. Valentine is then subjected to the cruelest fate of all—his own cat-astrophic demise, where the cat literally gets his tongue. Yes, you read that right. No, this is not the climax of a horror film. This is The Uncanny. Get used to it.
The Real Horror: A Furry Conspiracy?
The Uncanny is one of those films that struggles to maintain any semblance of a coherent tone. Is it a scary horror movie? Not really. A satirical commentary on the evil nature of cats? Maybe? What it really succeeds in being is a bizarre exercise in watching talented actors, including Peter Cushing and Donald Pleasence, looking thoroughly confused as they try to make sense of the incoherent script. The worst part? The movie almost works as a metaphor for how cats run our lives. They’re mysterious, unpredictable, and in some cases, they make us question our sanity. But somehow, this movie takes all of those ideas and turns them into a series of incoherent, occasionally laughable, but never chilling, segments.
The film’s overarching narrative is both amusing and deeply unsettling in a “wait, this was the plot they settled on?” way. The evil cat motif feels like a supervillain’s plot line hastily thrown together between coffee breaks. Wilbur Gray’s theory that cats are somehow masterminds of human destiny? Sure, buddy. We’ve all had those long days where we stare into our cat’s beady eyes and wonder if they’re going to eat us alive in our sleep. But The Uncanny takes this theory to uncomfortable extremes, like the kind of fever dream you have after accidentally watching The Birds and Pet Semataryback-to-back.
Performances: Stiff as a Dead Cat
As for the performances, well, let’s just say that no one ever mistook The Uncanny for a shining example of emotional depth. Peter Cushing does his best with the role of Wilbur, but his performance is more concerned with delivering lines in a manner that suggests a lifetime of unresolved cat-related trauma. Donald Pleasence, in the one scene where he appears, has that look of a man who has no idea why he’s in this movie or what exactly he’s supposed to do with a script like this. And then there’s the cast of unremarkable characters, whose performances range from wooden to “Did they even read the script before signing on?”
However, the real villain of the piece is the dialogue. One particularly gripping moment comes when a character declares, “I’m going to try and save my life from a bunch of dead people.” Sure, that makes sense. And there’s an eerie, hypnotic quality to the absurd conversations these characters have as they deal with inexplicable deaths caused by the devilish cats. It’s as if the actors knew how ridiculous everything was but were too polite to outright laugh.
The Cats: The True Stars
Of course, let’s not forget about the true stars: the cats. They are the real MVPs of The Uncanny, delivering solid performances despite the plot not giving them much to work with. These felines, unlike their human counterparts, understand exactly what’s happening. They know they’re there to wreak havoc. Cats are unbothered by the poor writing, the cheesy death scenes, or the implausible plot devices. They sit, they stare, and they get their paychecks while the humans flounder around in confusion.
The Grand Finale: A Cat-tastrophe for the Ages
The grand finale, when it finally arrives, is just as disappointing as you’d expect. Wilbur Gray’s work is destroyed in a spectacularly anticlimactic moment that involves, of course, more cats and more deaths, leading to the sort-of conclusion where the evil feline conspiracy is exposed, but not in any meaningful or satisfying way. No, instead, we get an ending where it’s suggested that the cats will continue their reign of terror, and humans are doomed to live as their clueless pawns.
Final Thoughts: “Purrfectly” Awful
In conclusion, The Uncanny is a cat-themed horror film that may make you reconsider your relationship with your furry friends. Is it scary? Not really. Is it laughably ridiculous? Absolutely. It’s a bizarre, sometimes unintentionally hilarious take on supernatural horror that tries to make cats seem like demonic overlords. If you’ve ever wondered what a Jaws-like movie with a budget the size of a housecat’s lunch money might look like, then this is it. It’s a film where the actors are as confused as the audience, and the only thing that’s truly scary is how this ever made it to theaters. But hey, at least it’s a reminder to never trust the cat staring at you from the window… unless they’re paying rent.
