Futuresport (1998)

I used to work in an office building which, when it was renovated in the early years of the millennium, was named “Future Walk”. We had a consultation period before the name was finalised, and I made a comment that, in a few years, when the building was a little older and the cracks had started to appear, the word “future” would look a little silly. 2018, and everyone who still works there probably hates saying “Future Walk” when giving the address to a building which definitely doesn’t belong in the future.

Which is how I feel about the sport at the centre of this movie. I can sort of buy the title being the way it is, as it is, indeed, set in the future. But why do the people in the movie call their sport, which takes place in their present, “Futuresport”? These are the sorts of things which bother me, dear reader.

It’s New Orleans, 2025, and it’s Championship Sunday! The LA Rush are playing the Berlin Griffins, and LA’s captain is the world’s most famous man, Tre Ramzey (Dean Cain, fresh-ish off the Superman TV show). He’s in a relationship with the world’s most famous woman, Lorelei – we know they’re the most famous because they spend a lot of time talking about their PI score (Popularity Index), the be-all and end-all of people like them. Tre is sort of a douchebag, a star player who thinks he should take all the shots, but he’s nice enough that his teammates help him out when a group of Hawaiian Liberation Army terrorists invade a pre-match press conference and try to kill him.

Futuresport is a cross between skateboarding and basketball, with a healthy dose of “Rollerball” in there too. It’s set in a skate-rink, on hover-boards (actual hovering boards, not the stupid thing with that name that was briefly popular last year), with a metal ball that has to be thrown into a small circular goal. Each team defends their goal, but despite the smallness of it, no-one ever seems to miss and there’s only one example in the entire movie of a team successfully stopping a shot. Oh, and after you hold onto the ball for five seconds, it becomes electrified, encouraging you to pass it – to successfully hold on to the electrified ball is called “riding the lightning”. Presumably, no-one told the moviemakers that’s what they call death by electric chair, or maybe it’s a subtle joke about appropriation of old phrases in the far-off future.

So, we’ve got Dean Cain, his fame-obsessed girlfriend, and his teammates. Who else? There’s a TV reporter, Alex (Vanessa Williams), who’s also Tre’s ex-girlfriend; and the creator of Futuresport, Obike Fixx. He’s played by Wesley Snipes, who’s also the producer of the movie and listed at the beginning as “special guest star”. His character’s whole thing is opposition to the corporate behemoth that Futuresport has become – he set it up as a street game to help prevent gangs from battling each other. His initial speech while being interviewed by Alex has a lot of parallels to how American sports like baseball are organised today – it’s not a competition between teams, it’s a racket run by the owners of those teams, where everyone makes a profit and the players are given an increasingly small slice of the pie (and the fans are completely ignored). I want to give Vanessa Williams credit for giving us the line “Futuresport used to mean something” while keeping a straight face, though.

LA lose the championship game, and immediately all Tre’s sponsors drop him, his girlfriend leaves him, etc. Seems a little weird, but maybe it’s a sport where only the winners are worth advertising with? Anyway, you’d think he’d start spiraling downwards, but a quick pep-talk from Alex and some support from Obike Fixx and he’s back, with a press conference suggesting a game of Futuresport between the USA and a rough grouping of Pacific nations for control of Hawaii. Turns out Australia has been bankrolling the terrorists, for some reason? But, most importantly, never let the opinions of the actual people of Hawaii get a word in (quite a lot of Hawaiians don’t consider themselves American, even now).

Everyone immediately agrees to this game, and there are the obvious twists and turns – one of the good guys definitely has bad intentions, and one of the bad guys secretly respects the honour of the good guys. You know the routine.

There are training montages, one of my favourite things about this sort of movie, and lots of touches which elevate it above the normal sort of thing we cover here – Tre has a house computer with a camp English accent, and for a movie made when the internet was still in its infancy, it predicts a number of things about the future with a surprising degree of accuracy. My favourite is how it inadvertently invents Twitter, when Tre reads his “messages” and it’s just random people hurling abuse at him! But then it also has another great line, said with complete seriousness – “It’s hard to believe that this game will replace war”.

So, it’s a decent example of the typical fare we found towards the end of Blockbuster’s reign of dominance – big budget, lots of names you’ll recognise, high-ish-concept. I don’t buy the central character’s conversion to the side of good, as he doesn’t get anywhere near rock bottom, and it’s kind-of morally simplistic, like an episode of daytime TV (it is a TV movie, I guess), but it’s good cheesy fun, all told. If you’re desperate for a movie about sport, set in the future, then go for “Rollerball” or “Salute of the Jugger”, but if you’ve seen them and are still hungry, this would be okay.

Rating: thumbs up

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Future Kick (1991)

There are certain things I feel it’s important to spoiler before you ever get to the movie, although the list is relatively short. “Does the dog die” is, of course, the most important, because dogs are great and killing them can be used as a cheap emotional device so you ought to be able to avoid that bit if you like. That doesn’t apply to “Future Kick”, though. The one which does?

“It was all a dream”. This is probably the worst plot device in the history of plot devices, a cheap and unbelievably irritating thing which is rarely used because it sucks so much ass, and has become a pop culture joke (such as the entire season of TV show “Dallas” which was all a dream because the show’s ratings were tanking and they needed to bring back some characters). Anyway, this entire movie, minus a few minutes at the beginning and end, is a dream / VR game being played by one of the main characters, and if you’re as annoyed by this garbage as I am, you may want to avoid this altogether. If not, then read on.

In the future, rich people have pissed off to the Moon, and everyone else lives in misery on Earth. Well, apart from the corporations, who control everything. They create Cyberons, super-powered police officers, but the Cyberons work out that the corporations are the big evil and start going after them; so the corporations then create the “Corporate Police” to kill the Cyberons. All but two of them have been finished off, and that’s where we join things, roughly.

Howard (Jeff Pomerantz, who looks like the bad guy in an 80s soap opera, or a low level hotel manager in real life) is one of the rich people on the Moon, and he’s a computer programmer, who’s making super-good VR program to distract the people up there from their lives of no proper air or outside or anything like that. He tries it but it’s full of frightening images, and warns his wife Nancy (Meg Foster – “Oblivion”, “Immortal Combat”, “Best Of The Best 2”) against giving it a go til he comes back, as he has to go to Earth for some meetings. She says don’t worry! I prefer a good book anyway, and off he goes. She, for absolutely no reason, puts it on –

EVERYTHING FROM NOW TO TEN SECONDS BEFORE THE END OF THE MOVIE IS A DREAM

– and in the next scene removes it and gets the news that her husband has gone missing on Earth. He left the airport and went straight to get some hookers, getitng involved in an illegal organ-harvesting operation on Earth, to help rich folk replace their ageing bodies. Fairly quickly, he turns up dead, so Nancy has to go to Earth to look for him.

Don “The Dragon” Wilson, who has his martial arts credentials listed under his name in the opening credits (same as the early “Bloodfist” entries!), is Walker, the final remaining Cyberon (or so we think). Although he’s presumably been declared illegal and is hunted wherever he goes, he carries on doing his old job, of hunting criminals for the bounty. Nope, makes no sense to me either. Nancy is in the police station, meets Walker and hires him to help her out. They go to Zona Rosa, where all the sex and crime is, and while they’re sort-of investigating, the chief organ-harvester for the evil corp, Hynes, and his sidekick Bang (Chris Penn, a year before “Reservoir Dogs” would put him out of the price range of Roger Corman forever), slaughter their way through the wasteland of future-Earth.

The main thing I enjoyed about “Future Kick”, apart from the title, is how gory it is. A few people explode, drenching everyone around them in lumpy blood, heads and limbs are severed, Don gets his finger chopped off…it’s a fun throwback to a simpler time. There’s also plenty of nudity – I mean, the script insisted they film at a strip club. What else could the director do? The fighting, surprisingly, is a bit rubbish, although we do get a lot of kicking, in the future.

Corman is a thrifty fellow, for two reasons. One, the movie barely gets above the 70 minute mark before the credits roll; and two, he liberally re-uses footage from his other productions. If you’re watching this and a scene sticks out, like you’re thinking “why are they spending all this cash on a three-second reaction shot?”, the simple answer is “they aren’t”.

While it doesn’t slow down enough to get boring, it’s a bit on the cheap side, meaning the vast world of future LA is one strip club, one police station, and a filthy street with garbage and hoboes in it. Plus, the wealthy moon-people would presumably take security down with them and could buy better police protection, but again, that sort of thing would be more expensive to film so they just don’t bother.

Oh, Don has magic glasses that apparently help with his Cyberon-stuff, but no-one questions why you build a cyborg but force him to wear glasses to get the full range of features. Also, the movie never explains what they’re for or why he needs to wear them. Ah, who cares.

So, it’s short! (Thumbs up) But it sucks and is stupid and has the crappiest ending imaginable! (Thumbs down)

Rating: thumbs in the middle

Future-Kill (1985)

At some point in the early 80s, in between runs to the local coke dealer’s place, a group of movie execs were discussing how great “The Warriors” was, but how it’d be even better (for their purposes) if almost the entire cast was white. Oh, and how maybe the villain should be sort of a cross between the Terminator and Freddy Krueger.

That’s how I like to imagine “Future-Kill” was born. For such a relatively unheard-of movie, it’s surprisingly good fun, with weak-ish performances and a few lulls made up for with a decent central concept; a worthy addition to the latest ISCFC review mini-series, “movies that start with the word Future”.

Early on, we meet both strands of our story. One is a large community of anti-nuclear protestors, who’ve essentially taken over a significant portion of an unnamed city. The protestors have created their own subculture, which apparently revolves around non-violence, and wearing an excessive amount of face make-up, like a reject from a bad New Romantic band. Although, the cover-star, a gentleman by the name of Splatter (Ed Neal, who co-wrote the movie and was also in “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, many years previously), is only hanging out in this part of town because he’s got actual radiation poisoning and has a cybernetic arm (complete with razor-talons), a metal face-mask and he 100% does not agree with the non-violence thing.

The frat guys are a curious bunch, because I guess we’re supposed to like them? But their first action is to destroy the expensive sports car of the head of the “evil” frat; and they then tar-and-feather one of the evil frat’s lieutenants – the other frat appear to have done nothing to them, and even invites them to their big party and offers them a reasonable deal to save face. Perhaps if I was a horny frat douchebag in the mid 80s I’d feel differently? Oh, by the way, the reasonable deal is to turn up to the next party is women’s underwear – to which the largest and angriest of the frat guys says “I ain’t faggin’ up for nobody!” Ah, the 80s. They try to put some frat-style gross-out shenanigans in there, like tricking two of the guys into a threesome with a hot prostitute, but they turn out the lights and do a literally impossible switch with a larger woman with massive boobs who of course horrifies the two.

ASIDE: one of the random guys at this party is a debuting – aside from an entirely uncredited bit-part in “Police Academy” – John Hawkes, future Oscar winner and star of “Scary Movie” (not that one).

The way these two groups come together is one of those “will this do?” 11th hour writer’s decisions. The frat guys are actually pledges, and the head of the frat, who’s the nerdiest guy to ever hold that position in any movie ever (I’m counting “Revenge of the Nerds” here), dresses them like protestors, takes them downtown and tells them to kidnap a random guy. The one he picks is, of course, stood ten feet away from Splatter, who instantly murders the head frat guy, then murders the head protestor (who to this point has been his only real friend), pins it on the frat guys and tools up ready for some butchery.

While “The Warriors” is the obvious template (they even do the thing where one of them falls in love with a local lady), watching this in 2018, you’ll probably be reminded of 90s classic “Judgement Night” (the movie most famous for its soundtrack). “Future-Kill”, though, is almost entirely devoid of context, like it would be impossible to get offended by it or see any wider points being raised. Heck, even though they pay the faintest of lip service to its future setting it’s basically set “today”. If you really wanted to stretch, you could say the protestors are stand-ins for angry black youth, but the producers realised that by the mid 80s you couldn’t have a movie where the villains are entirely black and the heroes entirely white.

It loses its way a little in the middle, as well. With “The Warriors”, you knew where they were at all times, and there was a real sense of where they were headed. Here, you’ll find yourself begging them to just pick a direction and run that way, until they encounter some helpful people or the bus, or anything. But they meander as if they’re not being chased by a deranged psychopath and his gun-toting goons. They sort of get close to making a point, that civilisation is a veneer you need to get rid of if you want to survive, but it’s pretty cloth-eared about it all.

The acting is almost uniformly rotten, with lots of people whose IMDB profiles don’t have a photo (the kiss of death, fame-wise). It makes me wonder about the genesis of it all – this is the sole writing or directing credit for one Ronald W Moore, who was apparently friends from university with Ed Neal; they seem to be relying on having two cast members from “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” to do all the work of selling it (the other being Marilyn Burns).

It’s got a great (read: terrible) soundtrack and a VHS cover from HR Giger, who must have been doing someone a favour. I know I’ve been less than kind to it, but it’s still quite a bit of fun, even if I’d have made it shorter, trimming the opening frat-garbage portion way down. Worth a watch, even if you’re not doing a weird review series.

Rating: thumbs in the middle

Future Hunters (1986)

This movie represents the emergence from the background of our subconscious and the “hey, I recognise that name”-ing of director Cirio Santiago, one of the most prolific directors of the Filipino genre film boom of the mid-70s to mid-90s (as shown in “Machete Maidens Unleashed”, a wonderful documentary). Just roll a few of these titles of his movies round your mind, and just imagine the thrills contained within, and the video store shelves that bent under the weight of them:

TNT Jackson; She Devils In Chains; Vampire Hookers; Death Force; Hell Hole; Stryker; Caged Fury; Final Mission; Naked Vengeance; The Devastator; Eye of the Eagle; Equalizer 2000; Demon of Paradise; The Expendables (not that one); Dune Warriors; Raiders of the Sun; Fire Hawk; Kill Zone; Angelfist; One Man Army, and Bloodfist 2050 (the only one we’ve reviewed so far).

There are many more. A few of them are obvious attempts to cash in on trends – TNT Jackson is blaxploitation, Dune Warriors looks like Dune, etc. – but most of them are just “which Western actors do we have in town this week, and what half-finished script is lying around?”

Which brings us to “Future Hunters”. The main western actors in question are Robert Patrick (who appears to have gotten his start in this part of the world) and the great Richard Norton, whose survival I was immediately worried about when I discovered he wasn’t first-billed. This feels like a much less fun version of the end of “Blazing Saddles”, where the stars break through a bunch of different film sets – it starts off in a post-apocalypse Mad Max style, before turning into an Indiana Jones thing, going through a martial arts section, jungle war movie, Far Eastern travelogue, even throwing in modern Hitler enthusiasts and a friendly army of midgets.

It is, in other words, a movie that’s more fun to describe than it is to watch. But I watched it, so here goes.

Right from the beginning, you know someone realised how odd this all was because we get a two-minute voiceover explaining the world we’re in – 2024, where humanity is virtually extinct thanks to nuclear war. Someone has figured out that the Spear of Longinus, aka the Spear of Destiny, aka the thing that pierced the side of Christ while he was on the cross, has the ability to turn back time, so Matthew (Norton) is described as humanity’s last hope, as he needs to go back and stop the apocalypse from happening. Quite why he’s being chased across the desert by a bunch of bad lads is never adequately explained, but anyway, he gets to a derelict building of some sort and grabs hold of the spear-head, just as the bad guys start shelling the place.

1989! Michelle (Linda Carol) and Slade (Robert Patrick) are at the same ruined building, she looking at the carvings and paintings for her university thesis, he sat around bored. A bunch of criminals attack them for no reason, and Slade is immediately knocked unconscious, showing just the sort of character he’ll be for most of the movie – luckily, out of the ruins wanders Matthew, who saves the couple, shoves the spear into one of the criminals, turning him to dust, then gets shot himself. Sorry, Richard Norton fans!

From this point on, it’s the two of them arguing about whether the spear is real or not, then a bunch of criminals, sent by modern day Hitler wannabe Fielding (Ed Crick) and led by a guy who looks like a blond ape poured into a suit, Bauer (Bob Schott), chasing them across the world. They get just enough information to convince them of the rightness of their mission and eventually Slade grows a backbone, although for a former Marine, he gets his ass kicked by randos way too often.

Aside from the odd bit of bad film fun, like one scene where the two dubbed characters voices change completely half-way through, like the voice guys just wandered outside for a cigarette but they couldn’t be bothered to wait for them to get back, or the chase scene that starts in the dead of night but finishes, minutes later, in broad daylight; it’s honestly a little bit boring. Too many locations, too little sense, and the gradual evolution of Michelle from interesting lead character to damsel in distress is pretty crappy. There’s even a scene where the bad guys tear her dress open as there’s no way they’re making it through an entire movie without degrading a woman.

It’s also too long, clocking in at around 100 minutes. If you’re going to do a cheapo exploitation movie, there’s very little need to have it above 80 minutes, or at the very outside 90. It’s not like they make any more profit if it’s longer, either, so I’m not sure why it was padded so much. The endless battle scene in the last third, which isn’t even all that well directed, could have been half the length and no-one would have minded.

It does have some pleasant lapses in logic which bring it from being terrible to merely puzzling. Like, why don’t the bad guys just kill our couple, rather than tying them up and giving them chances to escape? They’re not needed in the least. Or why do the bad guys keep giving them chances? Is the lead Nazi like one of those serial killers who keeps giving the cops clues as he’s secretly desperate to be caught?

Too little Richard Norton and too much bickering couple. Too much change and too little fun.

Rating: thumbs down

C.A.T. Squad: Operation Python Wolf (1988)

After a first movie which I was quite surprised by my enjoyment level of, the three main cast members return, along with director William Friedkin, for a sequel. I have no idea of the genesis of this, whether they were two separate pilots for a TV series that never got made – one very dark and serious, the other a little lighter; a couple of TV movies that Friedkin made because he had nothing better going on that year; or the first six episodes of a TV show edited into two chunks and sold overseas. Your guess is as good as mine, and the internet is devoid of information.

(Talking of selling overseas, my version is the British VHS tape, and on the beginning of it has a music video from the Schwarzenegger movie “The Running Man”, by John Parr, the most 80s of all musicians. Parr is originally from about ten miles away from me, a small town called Worksop, and there’s every possibility my father hurled drunken abuse at him on several evenings, as he would have been in the working mens’ clubs Parr originally plied his trade in, at roughly the same time. If he did, I’d be even prouder of the old man).

The Counter Assault Tactical Squad – aka boss Doc Burkholder (Joe Cortese); John Sommers (Jack Youngblood, and it’s a little bit confusing as the two men look a lot alike); and Bud Raines (Steve James), are trying to stop the sale of plutonium to South Africa, back in the bad old days when apartheid was still a thing. Their boss doesn’t return, and neither does Doc’s love interest – in their place we get Nikki (Deborah Van Valkenburgh, who I just discover made her movie debut in “The Warriors”), who’s a solid member of the team as well as being John’s fiancee.

It’s the villains who you’ll be delighted about, if you’re anything like me that is. The South African baddie Bekker is played by English character actor Alan Scarfe (“Lethal Weapon 3”, tons of genre TV) and the American doing the fixing for the sales of plutonium is the late, great Miguel Ferrer (too many amazing credits to list, but my favourite will always be “Hot Shots 2”). He’s firmly in sleazy corporate scumbag territory here, and I love it.

When John and Nikki decide to get married, just before John goes on a rather poorly-explained mission, in an SR-71 Blackbird, for the Air Force Reserve, she might as well have a timer above her head with “hours left to live” on it. Poor woman! It’s quite curious, that the one plane with a member of CAT Squad on it, is shot down by a South African lunatic with a special laser who’s also the guy involved in the plutonium buying which CAT Squad are investigating – by odd, I mean “coincidence of bizarre pointlessness”.

Let’s talk Steve James for a moment. His agent must have negotiated some sweet scenes for him in this sequel – it looks like he can play trumpet, so he gets to play, and he talks jazz a little too. Although, curiously, he gets his ass kicked on several occasions, despite being a massive, ripped dude who we know can legitimately kick ass (the American Ninja movies). Seeing him lose to a pudgy, middle aged fella is disconcerting to say the least – let us hope that it’s not related to William Friedkin’s curious fetish of having a white guy shout the n-word in his movies.

It’s a fairly light movie, with people smiling and having fun, until it lurches into really dark territory in the last third. People are killed in curious ways, and when the CAT Squad finally get to South Africa, what they find is so completely bleak that it sort of wanders off the path of entertainment into sternly political territory (with it just being a couple of years before the end of apartheid, this feels both incredibly sad and the product of a much worst time). But then…it has a charmingly naïve view of international politics at other times, so it’s tough to wrap your head round. And the CAT Squad, with its prominent black member, teams up with the South African military at the end! I wonder how Steve James must have felt about that?

Add on a magnificent “Python Wolf” logo for, apparently, the US Air Force, and you’ve got yourself a movie. It’s tonally all over the place, which means it’s not quite as satisfying as part 1, and the ending is so dark, but absolves the real villains (the South African state) from any responsibility for their crimes, so you’re left confused more than upset or pleased the bad guys finally get theirs. There’s a fun set piece in a nuclear processing plant, but it’s too little, too late, really. It feels like the end of an episode of TV rather than a movie, which is perhaps what it originally was.

Rating: thumbs in the middle

C.A.T. Squad (1986)

When you think about it, William Friedkin can compare “best five movies” with just about any director. “The Exorcist”, “The French Connection”, “Sorcerer”, “To Live And Die In LA” and “The Boys In The Band” are all absolutely fantastic, in different ways too, and he made the incredibly creepy “Bug” as recently as 2006. One gets the feeling he’s still, even now, just doing whatever the hell he likes – in semi-retirement, he directed a couple of episodes of “CSI” (possibly as a favour to his old star William Petersen) and in 2017 made a documentary about a priest who performs exorcisms, co-written by film critic Mark Kermode, who’s long championed “The Exorcist” as the greatest movie of all time.

So it was with moderate puzzlement I discovered he’d made two made-for-TV action movies in the mid-80s, with a star I’d never heard of (but co-stars I definitely had). After watching the first one, my best guess is Friedkin wanted to see if he could make a classic 70s Euro-spy-thriller, and took whatever opportunity afforded itself to do so. So, ignore the title, which makes you think of some cheesy all-female boobs-n-guns effort, and settle in for one of the more interesting forgotten gems of the 80s.

Carlos (Eddie Velez) is moseying round the world, killing seemingly random people in very different ways – one guy, he snipes from the roof of a nearby church, the other he switches the candles in a restaurant for high explosives, completely destroying the place and dozens of people. Your normal bog-standard cops aren’t enough for this, so we get…the Counter Assault Tactical Squad! Quite why the movie went for such an offputting title is a question we may never get an answer for, sadly.

Head CAT is Doc Burkholder (Joe Cortese, who looks like a weird mashup of three different actors in one body), and we get a sweet “assembling the team” segment, second favourite to the “ultimate badass” speech. His boss is yer man from “Northern Exposure”, Barry Corbin, and they play a very strange game of…poker?…with each other, but they’re only holding a $1 bill and seem to be reading from it. Perhaps if this had been picked up to go to series – it’s very obviously the pilot for a TV show, made by NBC – they’d have explained some of this stuff to us. Anyway, his second-in-command is the late, great Steve James (the sidekick from the early “American Ninja” movies), Patricia Charbonneau from “Desert Hearts” is one of the others, and the new guy, the one who gets the arc, is a very young Bradley Whitford, even predating his star-making role in the second “Revenge Of The Nerds” movie (or was that just me?)

The script is from the same guy who wrote “To Live And Die In LA”, Gerald Petievich, and he used to be a Secret Service agent, so there’s at least half an idea that the stuff on screen bears a decent relationship to the truth of this sort of operation. The team, each of whom has a nicely defined area of specialty, patiently tracks Carlos down throughout a variety of locations, all over the world.

Even though it’s a TV movie, there’s plenty of artistry on display, as it was shot by Rbert Yeoman, who’d go on to be nominated for Oscars, and with Friedkin at the helm, it’s almost inevitably going to be classier than your normal effort. I mean, I could have done with a few fewer Dutch angles, but I guess it was less of a cliché back then? Also, and this might be the weirdest credit of them all, the soundtrack was done by Ennio Morricone! According to experts, it sounds like offcuts from his other work, but I’ll take it, even the bits that don’t really fit the scenes they’re in.

In what amounts to a small roadblock to enjoyment, it’s a little difficult to get over the mental disconnect of there not being a huge amount of “action” in “C.A.T. Squad”. When you see Steve James, you expect him to kick a little ass and look amazing doing it, but here he’s a quiet family man (he has a deaf son and shows off his signing skills in a touching little scene) who throws a grand total of one punch, and then throws someone off a balcony. Or they fall off after getting punched, which is sort of the same thing.

But what mostly happens is people look pensive in a wide variety of locations. Carlos doesn’t so much seem ahead as running on a different track until the last third of the movie – he gets no joy from his actions, the C.AT.s get no joy from tracking him down. While it’s not fast or action-packed, it’s a more cerebral affair, with much more in common with a 70s spy movie than an 80s action one.

It’s an interesting one, for sure, and I’m looking forward to the sequel, the too-many-animal-words-in-there “C.A.T. Squad 2: Operation Python Wolf”.

Rating: thumbs up