UPDATE: My review is now posted at CT Movies.

Well, there’s the easy route: you can write a review of Catwoman by finding the most readily available derogatory metaphor relating to cats.

“It’s the pick of the litter box…” for example.


“The summer’s biggest hairball…” That one was probably used by someone somewhere for Garfield, but it’s far more appropriate here.


“This kitty’s just roadkill that’s been left out to bake in the sun for too long.”

The tougher job will be coming up with the energy to actually address the movie itself in detail.

At least the movie’s not subversive… it delivers EXACTLY what the ads promised… repulsively bad skimpy leather costumes, dialogue so bad it wouldn’t have passed on most TV soap operas, and CGI-produced action so fake that you’ll swear it’s been taken right off the computers where the Catwoman video game is in development.

Or, you could get personal: A few weeks ago, Halle Berry was on Oprah crying about her husband’s unfaithfulness. Now, she’s doing what she can to further cheapen African American women on the big screen by playing a part that fulfills all of the negative stereotypes that intelligent actresses like Alfre Woodard and Angela Bassett have been trying to fight. In doing so, she increases the problem… she throws fuel on the flames of male fantasies, ensuring that more men will continue to think even less of women, and thus contributing to the brokenness of relationships everywhere. Divorced actress, you have yourself to blame, in part.


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