The mother of all hot-takes: A case for The Cat in the Hat (2003)
Let’s get on Mrs Kwan and enter the mother of all (beautiful) messes: Bo Welch’s The Cat in the Hat.
The Cat in the Hat (2003), directed by Bo Welch and starring Mike Myers, is a dumpster-fire. But who cares when our own world isn’t very different?
The new decade started out in a tizzy of topsy turvy madness. In that madness, I revisited one of the weirdest films from my childhood, Bo Welch’s 2003 magnum opus. And now I have some interesting thoughts to share. It wasn’t and still isn’t seen as anything other than a candy-coloured incoherent fever dream. I have a large bone to pick with that. So, by the end of this, hopefully, this movie will inspire more thought than “that weird movie with the 6 ft talking cat?”
(Disclaimer: I am VERY biased, and this is essentially a scorching hot-take that it’s the best and truest Dr Suess screen adaption. With spoilers! Enjoy!)
So here is my case for the coherent-incoherency of The Cat in the Hat. And why I think it’s a perfectly-imperfect movie.
With everything we knew about our world being flipped upside down, it’s safe to say that none of us want an admission ticket back on the year of 2020. And as the year drew to a close and the clock seemed to tick achingly slowly toward the minute of midnight, I decided to watch a movie. Take my mind off the very grim fact that the year was ending but things aren’t changing. For most of the year, I’ve been on autopilot. With my conciseness in cruise-control, I aimlessly flicked through Netflix. I hopelessly scrolled to find some form of escape from the jaws of my dark thoughts. It seems like much of this year has been spent doing that, but, I had watched (and rewatched) most of my favourite films.
Naturally, as a member of gen-Z, I needed to cling to the scratchy, worn blanket of nostalgia. There’s something so comforting about movies with memories attached to them, it’s escapism but so are many things. Our lives are filled to the brim with reality, an overflowing cup of truisms that are hard to swallow. Nostalgia is like a spoonful of honey. You can have it until makes it you sick, but it never goes off.
In my sleep-deprived state, with a glass of wine in-hand, I cut the crap and scrolled through my watchlist one more time… with my eyes closed. I landed on the 2018 remake of The Grinch, which I decided to watch since I didn’t remember if I liked it or not. This is supposed to be one of my favourite Dr Seuss stories, but, as the film dragged on in all its mediocre magnitude, I decided I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I shut my laptop and drunk another glass of pinot, feeling like I was about to enter the new year even sadder than I was leaving the old one.
I felt hollow, hungry for something a little more up my alley. I knew I loved The Cat in the Hat so I decided to go with my sloppy drunken intuition. I got comfy and watched the classic curled up in my blanket.
The Cat in the Hat is interesting in its own right. However, watching it drunk and still being able to word-for-word regurgitate lines from almost 2 decades ago, to me, shows its credit as a nostalgic piece of excellence. It is one of my favourite movies alongside Lilo and Stitch and Fantastic Mr Fox (are we seeing a pattern with my taste here?). It doesn’t take much for me to be convinced a cult classic is a good movie. If I, with my bad memory in-tow, can watch a film drunk and follow along, I think it deserves to be praised. Especially if said film is made by a production designer for a Tim Burton movies, I have to love it.
Welch was as a production designer for Burton’s classics Edward Scissorhand’s and Beetlejuice (1998). He’s also worked on all 3 Men in Black movies, and Thor (2011). His style is unique and carefully crafted to a distinct aesthetic and design. More recently, we have seen Welch rise from the pits of critical backlash and return triumphantly as director once again. His sparse listing of credits in this realm has easily been made up for in A Series of Unfortunate Events (2017) on Netflix.
The Cat in the Hat, however, is different. A multi-layered labyrinth of aesthetic allusions and contradictions. Welch’s previous designs are impeccable and the world’s he creates within the film are uncanny, illustrious and truly iconic (all in favour of stanning Bo Welch say I). Therefore, understanding the film through the lens of art direction and production design is crucial, and a choice that matters to the creation of this specific film. Seuss’ work is surrealist and imaginative. The kaleidoscopic feel of the film, in its setting emphasises the writing of its story, its fluid dialogue and relentless crass humour for every image on screen.
Hand in hand with the film’s choice of the director are the writers (Alec Berg, David Mandel and Jeff Schaffer). A trio of writers who worked on Seinfeld, sit in the driving seat and steer us through this distorted fantasy. Importantly our host to the show, The Cat in the Hat himself, is Mike Myers (AKA legend among legends). The voice who has brought to life infamous characters that sit in the psyche of many, such as; Shrek and Austin Powers. Myers’ performance and true embracement of the whacky role as The Cat is akin to the likes of Jim Carrey, Robbin Williams and Bill Murry. The quintessential crew behind this movie set it up to be the closest anyone other than Seuss himself could be to making it work on screen.
I think understanding the creative driving-force this film makes for acknowledging it as a well-crafted feature film. One that transforms the short passages Suess initially wrote. Hot-take №1: The Cat in the Hat (book version) isn’t that interesting of a story. Sure, the Things exist and The Cat is a weird new character, but the story itself is pretty boring and simplistic. It’s meant to be, but I think the film brings together a world completely explosive, bombastically anarchic and loud social-commentary to the screen. The film breathes new life into Conrad (played by Spenser Breslin) and Sally (Dakota Fanning), giving them nuanced traits and characteristics. They are centred amidst a backdrop of equally bad-natured ludicrous individuals. The caricature-ish cast includes my favourite Mr Humberfloob (Sean Hayes) — who would definintley save us from this pandemic. However, the film gives these characters a both believable and contrived world to thirve in.
The opening scenes introducing the adults of the story; Joan (Kelly Preston), and Lawrence “Larry” Quinn (Alec Baldwin) perfectly to display this. We see the strained relationship between Conrad and his mother in an honest and profound way. We also know immediately Larry is the bad guy. And get to know ridiculous set-up that Joan doesn’t see how clearly mischievous he truly is. The film makes us understand why he’s the villain of the story for his role as a malevolent authority figure in Conrad’s life. The way he is framed in shots talking to Conrad create an overwhelming sense that he holds more power than our little misguided protagonist.
Hot-take №2: films are not books, books are not films. Films are primarily about visual media and having the option to include motion, images, and audio to form a narrative that would otherwise be words. They can prioritise some similar elements to books or written media, but they have a fundamental difference; BEING VISUAL. Short version: you suck if you want movies to be the same as their book counterparts.
Hot-take №3: The Cat in the Hat (film version) is better than the book, and that’s allowed. Often, people are ashamed to say that they enjoyed a book better than the movie. I disagree. I think it’s fine to consume the visual medium and make valid comments without reading the source material! They are adaptations after all. In true early 00’s DreamWorks fashion, the film seems to be a middle finger to industry and the nature of adaptation (AKA the Disney formula). Like Shrek (2001), the film makes many conscious efforts to mock the world we operate in whilst presenting us with an absurd, botched, uncannily parallel one to mock us through. In this way, there’s no room for nerd fans and sticklers for adaptations to be “true to source” because the material in of itself is incoherent, inconsistent and bends rules.
Hot-Take №4: you should never have to read the book counterpart to understand a movie. This is why I often take issue with film bros. If the film doesn’t make sense you shouldn’t have to fill out the gaps with the book. Equally a film doesn’t have to be a beat-for-beat remake of the book. The two are sperate pieces of art often created by separate individuals whose intent and visions for the creation don’t always match.
The film cuts out the narrative fat and gets straight to the meat and bones of the story. A fast-paced, adventure fantasy that transports us through imaginative worlds. The film has a guileless, unadulterated and candid way of approaching its source material. It remains unafraid to change everything under the sun about the original work while remaining authentic. Through its dive into a flipped unconventional dimension, we get the beloved costumes, setting and characters. It gives real meaning to the phrase “why do comedians even try when X exists”.
Hot-Take №5: explaining everything to the audience is not good world-building. The film never asks it’s the audience to suspend disbelief because the “normal” world we enter at the start is already unusually sanitised and illogical. The surroundings of Anville are by nature ludicrous, make no sense, and very close to a stylised picture of North-America in the late 1940’s. Therefore, no sense is to be dropped or held off with the introduction of The Cat’s world. Like YouTuber BREADSWORD mentions in his video, there are 3 distinct universes in the film: The Cat’s, The children’s, and our own. I think that’s the point, we are part of the film and it opens itself up to include our reality within the universe.
Hot-take №6: being smart and nit-picky is not film-criticism. There’s a large sense of resigning and relinquishing that must come from the viewer to watch this film. Yet, the truly interesting part is that neither Welch, the cast, the production or the movie itself asks you to do this. There is no point in the film where you sit back and think ‘ah I have to accept this is just a weird movie and nothing makes sense’. It happens without acknowledgement and you find yourself enthralled in the captivating nonsensical world of the film.
Hot-take №7: death to mediocre! Film rules are often stupid and boring. And, this film is the furthest thing from boring. To me, it’s all the more compelling than a safe “good” film. The Cat in The Hat spits in the face of film-snobs, rips up the rule book and feeds it to the dog (literally, the narrative progresses because of a dog). Nevins running away with the locket takes the film through an entirely different perspective and forces the characters to act in ways inconsistent with normal characters of their type. They come up with a really bad plan, terribly execute said bad plan and actively make things more difficult for themselves right until the end. But the absurd is the norm in this film.
The ripping and falling into the mother of all messes feels normal, the fact that there’s an infinite abyss in the home isn’t unusual. You don’t question how the neighbours don’t realise the house isn’t a house anymore. Or, that a man comes out of a drainpipe covered in purple fluid. They don’t come to mind because the movie has grounded itself in being a mess of incongruent and impossible things. The same way The Cat juggles milk on the rim of a glass bottle while balancing on a ball is the perfect summary of the movie and the world we have already entered.
And this is where the true genius of the film shines. In its care for perspective, nuance and character we understand the merging worlds of the film. The space it inhabits is complex, confusing and cataclysmic.
Hot-take №8: films are allowed to be messy and incoherent. This is a film that masterfully interweaves between reality and dream, fiction and non-fiction. Though a rampaging ride through the mother of all messes is fun and exhilarating, the escapade is full of moments that draw our attention to the character dynamics changing effortlessly. Conrad and Sally, both have wildly different reactions to entering this otherwordly place. Conrad wants to wade through the pink CGI sludge on Mrs Kwan, while his sister more apprehensively wants to fix the situation. As time goes we understand the blended sense of reality the characters are in.
The film is messy but it has a logic of its own that we don’t question. Have you ever actually noticed that there’s not a single stain in Anville? Why every single hosie is exactly the same? Or, how Nevins and Fish (who is also expertly voiced by Sean Hayes) are the only animals that seem to exist (since the animals in the chase scene are cardboard cutouts)? Or that there are no written signs for any of the buildings except Humberfloob’s. Another question, why can Fish and The Cat can talk but Nevins can’t? The allusion and reality blend so much that everything is real, but everything is fake at the same time. Like The Cat unveiling the S.L.O.W underneath the flashy tarp, we should allow ourselves to be in awe rather than knee-deep in fallacy questioning. It is illogical and impossible but within the film and the world, it makes total sense.
Hot-take №9: let kids in on the adult jokes, they aren’t stupid. Just because a film is made for children doesn’t mean it’s only made for children. We are both shown the experience of the characters and their reactions but our responses to them through The Cat. When Conrad realises how much he’s royally messed up by opening the crate, we see The Cat’s expression from the side. Many of the shots in the film deviate from traditional filmmaking with a choice of perspective. Though The Cat narrates the film, the shots indicate that we are seeing the action like Conrad and Sally. We see the film from their eyes level and brought out into the wider scope of the world on par with The Cat.
Through rhyme and riddle and complicated circumstance, we are shown the endeavours our protagonists face. The jokes allow for this undertsanding to be easily absorbed by the viewer. The running gags allow Welch to explore numerous settigns and environments for more humour to arise.
We understand why we need to have rules and the film goes out of its way to show us this while consistently tearing apart every rule we know about film. In a new interesting way, the film exposes some life lessons whilst being a zany surrealist escape. The gravity of the situations, though silly and ridiculous, resonate through the film’s appreciation of the viewer. Aimed at a younger audience, as Seuss’ fiction was, the young demographic is the target audience. Unlike other adaptations, The Cat in the Hat allows children to be in on the jokes, thus creating a continuum in which every age is equal.
And in this way, the film nails a Suess staple and a uniquely clever connection to its viewership. Dr Seuess’ work staunchly opposes authority in a variety of ways, from picturing outsiders like the character the Grinch, to puncturing holes in the fabric of society through The Lorax. Suess often ushers his readers into worlds that have clear lines of logic, authority, and convention that are set up as props to be challenged. This film literally does this with the prop-like quality of the objects, setting and town. Seuss’ characters stumble, fall and drag us as viewers into the issues with these rules. We fall off the ledge of the world we know, and we land in a sea of existential questions against it. More often than not, we are left swimming after we close the books and leave them behind in our childhood as adults. The Cat in the Hat is one of the few adaptations I think that capture this spirit of Seuss’ work.
Hot-take №10: not every film needs to be a 10. Films evoke feelings, they bring out emotions. The Cat in the Hat was a critical flop with many using Seuss’ own limerick way of writing to trash it in reviews. It has one of the lowest Rotten Tomatoes scores I’ve ever seen for a film. Seriously, it’s got the same score as The Room (2009)! Many reviews of the film took issue with how Seuss would’ve hated it. But I think this movie serves as a testament to human imagination and to reinvigorating Seuss’ own surrealist escape.
A good movie does not need to be a critical success to be good. A good movie doesn’t need to be good to be good. I won’t conclude by saying that this film is secretly ahead of its time or a masterpiece. It was a product of the early ‘00s. Between its zingers and Paris Hilton cameo, it shows us that. As I write this I am listening to the distinctly bad (but catchy) pop music in the soundtrack. However, it’s as unashamed and unabashed as its fantastic main lead dancing in a catsuit. It provokes a sense of thrill and rambunctious chaos that I think films need to take hold of a lot more.
The Cat in the Hat (2003), directed by Bo Welch and starring Mike Myers, is a dumpster-fire! But I will happily keep throwing paper into the bin to watch it burn on.
Remember, kids, there’s nothing faster than S.L.O.W
