Cat Dancers

Harris Fishman
2008

There's no reason this beautifully made and gloriously bizarre HBO documentary doesn't deserve a theatrical release, but considering I can watch it over and over again Ondemand (it warrants rewatching), I'm not complaining too much. The film tells the story of an early Siegfried and Roy style act comprised of flamboyant costumes (Freddie Mercury, Liberace, and the Rockettes in a blender), and giant felines with names like Diva, Jupiter, and Midnight. Co-founder Ron Holiday recounts how he and wife Joy created the act, bought a ranch for their increasing stable of big cats, and how things eventually went horribly wrong. Along the way fresh-faced newcomer Chuck Lizza is inducted into the fold resulting in a harmonious sexual, domestic, and professional manage a trois. Holiday's wistful overvoice stretches the seams with a melancholy nostalgia of both fond and painful memories. The history of Cat Dancers is punctuated with it's narrator's current life. Opening with the remarkably fit septuagenarian applying and teasing his toupee, then going on to show him teaching ballet to adolescent Floridians, and hosting a class at the Amazing Exotics animal sanctuary which houses his remaining kitties. Stylistically the film owes a lot ot Errol Morris with it's slow-motion archival footage, overly poignant audio bites, and no-nonsense interview settings. I usually have no qualms about giving away "spoilers," but I think this one deserves as fresh and uninformed viewing as possible. Definitely worth a look.