And so, with the long expected/feared arrival of CATS in the theaters, I ask this: is CATS (a) the furry guilty pleasure of 2019, or (b) the furry guilty pleasure of all time?
Oh, my dear! If you think watching a bunch of Hollywoocd types traipse around in form-hugging cat suits and CG makeup is some kind of guilty pleasure, then Our Host knows nothing of guilty pleasures!
Oh, my dear! If you think watching a bunch of Hollywoocd types traipse around in form-hugging cat su
Hah! Now you know what I meant—this ode to fur has gotten itself a critical spanking the likes of which has not been seen since Veerhoven's Showgirls. And yet, today, Showgirls has its legion of "it's-so-bad-it's-good" fans. I wonder if that is the destiny that awaits CATS.
Hah! Now you know what I meant—this ode to fur has gotten itself a critical spanking the likes of w
Waugh. I'm afraid so. And I say this with an enduring fondness, and admiration, for the original Marvel comics starring Howard. (Steve Gerber, I salute you.)
