Looking at the poster and its “A Most “Oshare” Movie” tag line, you’d assume Cats of Park Avenue to be very stylish kind of story, about some fashionable felines living on an uptown street comparable to the famous New York landmark. The title is entirely coincidental as it’s a literal translation of the Japanese and just means the cats live on a street near the park. These cats are full on alley cats, scrappy and free, roaming the rooftops of Shibuya and not giving a damn about whatever it is cats are supposed to do. Ostensibly a throw away young adult movie about a group of dance students and their obsession with a gang of local street cats, Cats of Park Avenue (公園通りの猫たち, Koendori no Nekotachi) takes on a surprisingly individualist message as the virtues of freedom and validity of life outside the mainstream are resolutely reinforced through cute animation and nonsensical musical sequences.
The plot, such as it is, focuses on a local dance troupe who are about to put on a musical show inspired by the life of the their local cats (no, they don’t seem to be aware it’s been done already). Each of the main girls is lined up with a corresponding alley cat with whom she shares a degree of affinity and, oddly enough, the cats themselves are allowed to take centre stage for large parts of the film as they play, fight, and make improbable leaps from building to building.
Aside from the show, the main narrative kicks off when a wealthy old lady one of the girls works as a baby sitter for starts to get paranoid that one of the alleycats is after her prized kitty Marilyn. When she thinks Marilyn has gone to the dark side, she immediately kicks her out as “dirty” and starts on a mass “purification” programme for the surrounding area to eliminate all of the stray cats, including our beloved heroes. The “Cat Busters” are called in as a kind of storm trooper-esque exectution squad complete with a strange scanning machine which works out if a cat is nasty or nice and dumps the unwanted ones right into the furnace. The cats, however, are about ready to fight back and free their friends from certain doom.
The cats have to save themselves in the end, aided by the villainess’ young son who wields the weight of his own privilege to help them. The girls are aligned with the cats in ways which are intended to be positive – emphasising the freedom they would like to have, the strength and daring, but are contrasted with the more “conservative” attitude of the film’s villain who wants everything to be “clean”, with “cats” confined to the home in a kind of golden cage. It is interesting in that sense that the evil instigator is herself a woman, wealthy and successful with a young son but seemingly unmarried. Despite living outside of the mainstream, it is she who seeks to grade the cats according to their usefulness and destroy the ones which don’t meet her criteria. The girls however, perhaps talking for themselves, insist the cats need to be free and keeping them indoors as pets where they don’t want to be not only makes them miserable but deprives them of the right of being what they are.
Intended for a very specific audience, Cats of Park Avenue cuts between images of these quite odd looking cats doing what they do, to large scale dance sequences and infrequent animation. The human cast are not the focus of the film and the character arcs of the real life girls take a back seat to those of their feline counter parts but they do at least get the opportunity to show off their singing and dancing credentials. The final show does indeed bear a significant resemblance to that other well known musical, but is much more cheerfully silly despite the heavy, if surreal, events which have previously taken place. A strange odyssey back to 80s consumerist pop, Cats of Park Avenue is unlikely to find much of an audience among modern viewers but is a kind of interesting time capsule of the lower end of populist movies in the late 1980s.
TV Commercial (part of a reel of ’80s adverts – starts at 1:44)