“We are all lost dogs,” reads a title card in Michael Reich’s take on one man’s slippery descent into crisis, She’s Allergic to Cats. The phrase flashes on screen for just a moment, forming part of an experimental video that Michael, our main character, has crafted. Whether or not the film convinces us that ‘we are all lost dogs’ is true, we learn that it is at least a woefully apt description of Michael, a doomed protagonist of sorts, who lives in LA, dreams of making movies, holds a job grooming dogs at Tailwaggers, and makes video art in his time off.
Michael’s apartment is infested with rats, and his landlord seems to know fuck all what to do about it, though he’s a nice enough guy who’s probably trying to do the right thing. This conflict drives the film’s emotional core, the visceral mood that Reich evokes and the backdrop that exposes Michael’s insecurities and paranoias. When the rats eat through a bunch of bananas in his kitchen, the scales of anxiety really start to tip for Michael, who already can’t catch much of a break. His latest pitch, a remake of Carrie featuring a cast of cats, has been ridiculed by his German producer, who is somewhat of a bully. As one might expect, Michael is also woefully unequipped to challenge such a dynamic.
SHE’S ALLERGIC TO CATS (2016) dir. Michael Reich
Enter Cora, the personal assistant of Mickey Rourke’s daughter, who meets Michael when she brings in a dog to be groomed for her employer. After meeting Cora, Michael is unable to get her out of his head. She reappears in close up, gazing seductively up at us, almost taunting Michael. His intense fixation with her – which comes about because of her moderate interest in his video art – finds a way into his daily artistic process. The phrases ‘i want to ask her out’ ‘i found her’ ‘affection’ and ‘call her’ interchangeably appear on his TV screen-canvass. Agonizing over the decision to call and ask her out, Michael finally picks up his phone (a battered Blackberry) and nervously takes the plunge. Over the image of a sunset – of VHS quality – Cora responds positively, her breath heavy, voice whispering but firm. The faint outline of her face can be registered, but the flashing image of VHS tape distortion intrudes before she can be seen in full view. These stylistic choices are a major structural element of the film, whereby image distortion abruptly interrupts or otherwise accompanies one of Michael’s thought processes, alluding to his inner unrest.
Cora is, of course, a welcome distraction to the monotony of Michael’s life, the misery of his dead-end job and overly dramatic boss, for whom dog grooming is a poetic act. In workplace scenes, the camera takes a clinical eye to that process, showing us, up close, the intricacies of grooming and dog variability, while Michael’s boss narrates. The effect is a disturbingly soothing one, yet we know we’re listening to someone droning on about dog anuses and the emotional pull of the scene becomes comical, especially given the tension of Michael’s mounting personal and professional dilemmas. But it’s also true that while Michael seems to take himself ever so seriously, the film does not. Instead it uses the clichéd conflicts of his life to advance the idea that banality can generate a kind of creativity that is fervent, unrelenting, and demanding from those that commit to it, and those that witness it.
SHE’S ALLERGIC TO CATS (2016) dir. Michael Reich
The other saving grace for Michael is Rosemary, the temperamental cat that he brings home to hunt down and eliminate his rat problem – the cherry on top of his existential cake. We start to think that maybe Michael’s getting it all figured out. The soundtrack to his demise, a synth-based tonal amalgam, is perhaps the most engaging element of the film, at times mesmerizing, ethereal and angelic – like when Michael opens Cora’s door on the night of their date to a mixture of soft, wind-like instrumentation and dreamy chimes – and at others energetic and chaotic, like the ’80s-inspired, post-dub-like intro song that reappears throughout. Still at other times, a baroque or romantic element comes to the fore in the soundtrack, mixing piano, synth, and orchestral sounds.
Though mostly synth-based, samples appear occasionally, like the sound of a helicopter during the anarchic climactic scene. Metallic instruments (likely vibraphones or xylophones) add a light, uplifting tone to the film’s overall depressive mood at various points. The sound plays an integral part in setting the mood, and Reich’s frequent decision to cut the soundtrack abruptly adds a comedic element to the narrative’s elevated drama. Not caring much for convention, it is the film’s sonic and hyperbolic visual elements that keep us on the edge of our seats, half-rooting for Michael’s life to turn around and half-expecting something in it to crash and burn. Though it’s no easy journey, the payoff leaves me feeling sated.
She’s Allergic to Cats
2016
dir. Michael Reich
82 min.
Part of the Boston Underground Film Festival
East coast premiere!
Screens Saturday, 3/25 @ Brattle Theatre, 7:00 PM – Click here for ticket info
