Mary Dauterman A powerful horror combination is found in Cats and Loss. That’s what she establishes in the movie boogerIt follows a woman named Anna who, due to a horrific accident, loses not only her best friend Izzy, but also the cat they brought home together when Izzy ran away. One day, Booger slipped out of an open window and disappeared without a trace, as cats are so adept at doing whenever they get the chance. Coping with both losses simultaneously introduced considerable physical terror into Anna’s grieving process, in the form of her slowly transforming into a cat. Then there are the hairballs.
booger The story blends comedy, horror and sadness, and is full of metaphors. Anna (played by Grace Glowicki) is the personification of grief, a character paralyzed by the death of a friend (by Sofia Dobrusin) to the point where she expresses her emotions through the missing cat. Anna thinks finding Booger will bring some aspects of her friend back so she doesn’t have to let her go. Of course, nothing goes as she hoped, and her repeated attempts to get the cat back fail, causing her to slowly and painfully transform into the person she cannot save.
Despite the physical horror, booger This is not a cat person story. Anna’s transformation is slow, deliberate, and relies more on specific changes in perception and behavior than the full-moon transformation we’ve come to expect from the werewolf. That said, in some cases the cat makeup effects were cleverly used to prevent the story from being completely swallowed up by metaphor.
To further illustrate this point, Dotman chose nightmarish scenes in which Boog’s presence looms large (both figuratively and literally) to show how deeply Anna has sunk into grief. These scenes often take place in dark rooms filled with elusive shadows and mounds of cat hair, illustrating the power Anna has bestowed upon Booger. They do a great job of making sure the language of horror is conveyed well throughout the film, especially in the more traditional gross-out scenes. This is where hairballs come into play. Hairballs are coughed up when emotions are at their wildest, and they always serve the narrative.
If there’s anything to criticize about the sad metaphor here, it’s that booger It’s not really beyond that. It’s about grief from beginning to end. That said, Dauterman finds ways to explore the many forms it can take, and how some people latch on to it for more selfish reasons. boogerAn excellent supporting cast establishes themselves here, with each character adding important wrinkles to Anna’s emotional arc.
Garrick Bernard Playing Anna’s boyfriend Max and Martha DeBonis Izzy’s grieving mum Joyce is the standout. Max wants to be more involved in his girlfriend’s grief, while Joyce wants to capture Anna because it allows her to remain close to her late daughter through contact. In a sense, each of these characters has made Anna their “cat” and they want to make sure not to lose her. The thing is, good intentions don’t always respect personal space, nor can they replace it. Observing all the chaos that results helps soften some of the blow the story hits. Martha DeBonis especially steals the show. Every scene she’s in has a perfect blend of sadness and comedy, and it’s all thanks to her performance.
It’s also worth noting that Dauterman is fully committed to female friendship. She didn’t want to turn Anna and Izzy into a cliché of friends who actually had a crush all along. This is a trap that many other similar films cannot avoid. The film focuses on the grief that comes with losing your best friend. period. It’s not about losing a friend to whom you regret never expressing romantic feelings. It’s about coming to terms with the fact that someone you loved sharing your life with, without any prerequisites or expectations of what was to come, is gone forever. While a missing cat may suddenly return, a dead friend isn’t so lucky.
Unlike dogs, cats always seem to be on the verge of running away, not because they are desperately trying to get out, but because they are guided by a curiosity that makes them unpredictable. They are a great metaphor for life, being there one moment and gone the next. Dauterman captures this perfectly booger. It’s funny without being disrespectful, disturbing but never gratuitous, and a touching portrait of female friendship as a creature with its own life cycle. So, if you find yourself transformed into a cat, seriously ask yourself why this is happening. This may be a sign that you need to do something.
