White Russian, no ice, no vodka... hold the Kahlua.

Catwoman

(2004)

What were they thinking? The benefit of hindsight, following the Nolan Batman reboot a year later, might encourage such conjecture, but Warner Bros superhero movies are so hit-and-miss that it’s often more of a surprise when they get it right. A Catwoman spin-off had been mooted for some time (since Michelle Pfeiffer’s peerless portrayl in Batman Returns) and it's probably just bad luck that what eventually arrived was on the Batman Forever quality scale. A different director, six dozen drafts earlier, it might have been half decent. Halle Berry won a Razzie, and turned up to accept it (bless her).

Director Pitof doesn’t seem to have much idea of how to put a film together, even though individual shots are nicely composed. The CGI is uniformly abysmal, with an extraordinarily bad virtual catwoman used for any action sequences. Catwoman’s abilities are down to the transference of feline energies from some Egyptian moggies. Or something along those lines, but the transformation from mousy office worker to self-confident night prowler is basically a rejig of the Burton film. The main plot, such as it is, sees Sharon Stone’s cosmetics queen attempting to put some dangerous product in the market place, and willing to kill to do so. Benjamin Bratt is the dashing (and dull) detective who catches Berry’s eye.

Is there anything good to say about the film? Not much. Berry has some very misjudged moments, but she’s mostly not actually terrible – just playing a terrible part. Lambert Wilson is suitably OTT as Stone’s hubby. But in general it’s a visual and aural assault (replete with a terrible soundtrack), not even so bad it’s entertaining.

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Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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