THE CAT (1988)

As two lovers meet in a shadowy hotel room, Ehser (Ulrich Gebauer) sits and waits by a telephone in his quiet, empty house. All three look nervous. Sweat gleams on each of their brows—is it fear, trepidation, or just the heat? When Probek (Götz George) walks off to the other side of their hotel room, the meeting place for their illicit trysts, Jutta (Gudrun Landgrebe) has a vacant look in her eyes, a distant, emotionless expression. It’s the night before an ambitious heist—but what is everyone concealing? 

Probek believes he has everything under control. He’s masterminded this operation for months: his old partner Junghein (Heinz Hoenig) will storm the bank with Britz (Ralf Richter), a young, naive criminal. Once inside, things begin to fall apart quickly: the police arrive immediately and surround the building. For Probek, this is all part of the plan. However, he fails to realise that everyone has their own plan, one they keep hidden from the other crew members, and it soon transpires that some of these criminals aren’t in it for the money…

Dominik Graf’s The Cat / Die Katze is a tense, thrilling heist film with electrifying moments. With a solid lead performance from Götz George, and terrific supporting roles featuring Hoenig, Landgrebe, and Joachim Kemmer as Police Captain Voss, all the characters in The Cat are vividly brought to life and augment this hidden 1980s gem. However, while Graf’s outing is certainly entertaining and even boasts moments one may not see coming, our German director never attempts to reinvent the wheel, creating a compelling genre piece, but never elevating the material beyond that.

Based on the novel The Life of a Cat by Uwe Erichsen, the film conveys the gritty, slightly seedy aesthetic of a criminal atmosphere in only the opening moments. Opaque close-ups on our protagonist’s face, which we can hardly make out in the darkness; his visage is illuminated by lamplight, which shows how he often works: under the cover of night, away from prying eyes. This is his world, and though he’s about to take his operation right out into the bright light of day, all the planning is done under these conditions, and it reflects his personality, he’s like a cat; sleek, intelligent, and rarely noticed. 

The lighting in Graf’s thriller does a superlative job of amplifying the stakes. The mood is created with sharp, contrasting shadows, particularly when our protagonists sit in the dark, nervously awaiting the beginning of the heist. However, it’s not just the tension that Graf and cinematographer Martin Schäfer convey with the sheer lighting; it’s also thematically resonant, as betrayal, regret, and fear are all visually imparted to the audience.

The opening segment of The Cat is particularly superb—there’s practically zero exposition. Student filmmakers keen on understanding the art of divulging information to their audience should watch the first 20 minutes of this classic ’80s thriller: very little information is given to the viewer, requiring us to become active participants in Probek’s plot. We want to understand what’s taking place, yet we’re only given information by what’s visible in the frame. 

As Probek takes out a silver suitcase, neatly packed with a tripod, telescope, handgun, and holster, we recognise a crime will take place, but we still have no details. Once Probek begins setting up three police radios, we then comprehend that he’s no slouch; this is a career criminal, someone who’s been in the business for years without being caught. Very cat-like, indeed. 

In these opening scenes, Andreas Köbner’s music does a superlative job of heightening tension. Particularly because we’re not entirely sure what’s about to transpire, we sit on the edge of our seats. However, the electric composition that takes us from one scene to the next ties the narrative together wonderfully, never allowing tension to dip. With Köbner’s contribution, a conversation between a man and his wife in their bathroom becomes as suspenseful as a criminal loading his pistol outside a bank.

“In two hours, there’s going to be a war down there,” Probek muses forebodingly to Jutta. “Today is our day.” Yet, Graf never reveals in one scene what Probek precisely intends to do. His calculated strategy is bled out over the entire film’s length, and we can see just how many contingency plans he has. We suspect he has escape routes that he’s withholding from his accomplices, in fear that they won’t be able to keep their heads should things go wrong. 

Unfortunately, the best-laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley, and even Probek with all his intricate plotting can’t anticipate all the spanners the police throw into the works. Indeed, there are twists and turns here that not only surprise Probek, but the viewer as well. Graf and screenwriter Christoph Fromm do an expert job of concealing characters’ motivations and, by the mid-way point, we’re certain that we can’t trust anyone.

Moreover, while The Cat is best described as a psychological crime thriller, moments of action bring you to the edge of your seat. In one particular sequence, a chase through hotel corridors has the viewer leaning closer to the screen: with each combatant closely gripping their pistols, gingerly stepping on the hotel carpet in fear of making a noise, we’re enthralled by an especially riveting game of cat and mouse, though we can’t be sure who’s the cat and who’s about to be eaten. 

With this being said, while The Cat will easily serve as some diverting entertainment for fans of the genre, there’s nothing especially emotionally resonant about the story, per se. The characters are brilliantly brought to life by capable performers, but they don’t necessarily feel much more than well-drafted archetypes. You’ll likely be too captivated by the double-crossings, by the film’s excellent pacing, and by the smooth direction of Graf to notice. However, none of this ensures that the characters stay with you after the credits roll, and you can’t say you empathise with them at a deeper level than in other outings.

For instance, Sidney Lumet’s sensational Dog Day Afternoon (1975) is a towering achievement of the heist genre not just because it’s a tense, utterly engrossing thriller, or a story with layers of social commentary beneath the captivating surface, but because of how the characters feel completely human. Of course, not everyone can deliver the nuance of emotion as Al Pacino, and while George does a great job of anchoring this piece, bringing an understated realism to the story, we never quite identify with his character as much as we did with Sonny Wortzik.

Ultimately, it’s not quite Die Hard (1988) and doesn’t reach the heights of some of your other heist favourites. However, Graf’s film remains a moody, vaguely grimy piece, and with compelling performances, it serves as great entertainment.

WEST GERMANY | 1988 | 116 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | GERMAN • ENGLISH

Limited Edition Blu-ray Special Features:

• High-definition digital transfer newly graded by Radiance Films and overseen by director Dominik Graf.
• Interview with Dominik Graf (2024, 62 mins). Graf discusses some of the problems involved in the shoot. In particular, he discusses the difficulty in getting some shots for the heist and negotiation sequences, as well as the disagreements he had with his camera department and director of photography. Graf’s description of how he and Martin Schäfer agonised over which focal length they should use and how they experimented with which was the right length to obtain the right shot, makes for an enthralling discussion. Notably, Graf describes how he visually captures intensity on film, and why a specific focal length is required to get a sense of movement for more intense shots — but that this can also be exceptionally tricky to do. He and Schäfer argued over how a short focal length would diminish the scene’s pressure and tension. Whoever won that fight, they were right: the film has a surfeit of pressure and tension.
  
  Intriguingly, Graf also discusses how film production has changed in Germany since 1987: a particular sequence involved our anti-hero scuttling about a German street — and the chaos that ensues immediately afterwards — and why it would be impossible to film today. “You could still film this kind of thing in a German city in 1987. No CGI…” As his interviewer laments: “I have to say, real flames look better.” Additionally, Graf talks about the ethics of writing and directing a film that venerates criminals, and how an intricate depiction of their criminal exploits may well have inspired others like Probek to act on their nefarious schemes. These musings on the morality of crime films quickly dissipate as Graf once again returns to discussion on the production, as well as how difficult things can suddenly become: “In the script, everything is clear. When you arrive at a location, nothing is clear anymore.” Much like how Christopher Nolan would go on to incorporate two or three streams of action, overlaying them to augment tension, Graf was already experimenting with this in 1987. He discusses the benefit of having two parallel narrative layers in creating a sense of suspense, and there are moments in The Cat where it feels like an avalanche is building towards a calamitous conclusion.
• Interview with screenwriter Christoph Fromm (2024, 31 mins).
• Interview with producer Georg Feil (2024, 31 mins).
• Select-scene commentary by Dominik Graf (2024).
• Trailer.
• New English subtitle translation.
• A reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Time Tomorrow.
• Limited Edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings.

Cast & Crew

director: Dominik Graf.
writer: Christoph Fromm (based on the novel ‘The Life of a Cat’ by Uwe Erichsen.)
starring: Götz George, Gudrun Landgrebe, Joachim Kemmer, Heinz Hoenig, Ralf Richter & Ulrich Gebauer.