The Cat Vanishes (El gato desaparece)

A Bavaria Film Intl. presentation from the Guacamole Films, Patagonik production, with support of Incaa. (Worldwide sales: Bavaria Film Intl., Geiselgasteig, Germany.) Produced by Patricia Bustamante, Juan Pablo Galli, Juan Vera, Alejandro Cacetta. Directed, put together by Carlos Sorin.With: Luis Luque, Beatriz Spelzini, Maria Abadi, Norma Argentina, Damian Guitan, Javier Niklison, Hugo Sigman.Getting fun with '40s-era Hitchcock just like a cat would toy getting a mouse, Argentine author-director Carlos Sorin's "The Cat Vanishes" cleverly updates the type of "Spellbound" and "Suspicion" having its slow-burning tale from the Buenos Aires lady (Beatriz Spelzini) whose nervous about her psychologically recouping husband (Luis Luque) progressively drives her as crazy while he was -- and possibly continues to be. Subtly and acerbically funny, Sorin's pic also works just like a dead-serious study of marital mistrust and potentially murderous impulses. This "Cat" may possibly not have nine lives within the worldwide B.O., but fests everywhere will unquestionably desire to pounce. Stylishly shot in widescreen, the film is famous for that sudden disappearance of Donatello, the married couple's pitch-black feline, who hisses within the husband and scratches his face before departing for places unknown. Seems Donatello may be the cat who understood a lot of, no less than about Luis (Luque), a middle-aged college prof lately sprung from mental lockup after you have very assaulted a buddy whom he'd considered to possess stolen his research. Suspicion clearly runs inherited. Initially thrilled about Luis' return home, his wife, Beatriz (Spelzini), evolves a coming sense that Luis' formerly recognized "psychomotor agitation with behavior disorder" might possibly not have been cured. Pretty much the vanishing cat, Sorin ("Your WindowInch) rather fantastically renders what causes Beatriz's mounting anxiety as falling roughly legitimately frightening and absurdly misunderstood. The pic twists its familiar setup by calling the wife's sanity into question round the husband's, whilst it characterizes the threat of male violence just like a pervasive fact of existence for just about any lady. Will Beatriz ever be capable of trust or forgive her husband again? So when she can't, will Luis explode? In order to a satisfying climax, Sorin has infectious fun tease the viewer with the potential for Luis' malevolence, beginning using the initial shot of him as he's released within the psycho ward searching roughed-up and surly. If curiosity didn't eliminate the kitty, Luis -- a newcomer chef who seems to achieve the action of cutting sea food heads with extra-large knives -- could did the deed themselves. Tech credits are topnotch, with Julian Apezteguia's progressively shadowy widescreen cinematography a particular standout. Nicolas Sorin's old-fashioned, string-based score plays within the pic's enjoyably melodramatic elements, such as the director's pre-film warning not to stop the ending.Camera (color, widescreen), Julian Apezteguia editor, Mohamed Rajid music, Nicolas Sorin art director, Margarita Jusid costume designer, Ruth Fischerman appear (Dolby Digital), Jose Luis Diaz assistant director, Fabiana Tiscornia. Examined at Toronto Film Festival (City to City), Sept. 9, 2011. Running time: 89 MIN. Contact the number newsroom at news@variety.com