That Darn Cat

The premise remains charmingly simple, echoing the 1965 original (itself based on the Gordon Gordons' novel Undercover Cat). Sixteen-year-old Patti Randall (Christina Ricci) is enduring a particularly dull summer in the fictional Boston suburb of Edgefield. Her parents are perpetually distracted, her social life is non-existent, and her main companion is D.C. (short for Darn Cat), a sly Siamese with a penchant for nocturnal roaming. Life takes a sharp turn, however, when D.C. returns one evening wearing a wristwatch – a clue Patti instantly recognizes from news reports about a kidnapped maid. Convinced her feline friend holds the key to solving the crime, Patti enlists the help of the perpetually clumsy, newly assigned FBI Agent Zeke Kelso (Doug E. Doug) to tail the cat and uncover the kidnappers' hideout. What follows is a cascade of slapstick misunderstandings, neighborhood chaos, and feline-led detective work.

The casting is perhaps the most interesting aspect of this remake. Christina Ricci, then primarily known for her wonderfully morose and gothic portrayals in films like The Addams Family (1991) and Casper (1995), brings a certain grounded sarcasm to Patti. She’s not the bubbly Disney archetype; she’s bored, slightly cynical, and believably exasperated by the adults around her, making her sudden commitment to cat-tailing espionage all the more engaging. Opposite her, Doug E. Doug, familiar from his role in Cool Runnings (1993), leans heavily into physical comedy as Agent Kelso. His character is a walking disaster zone, a rookie agent desperate to prove himself but hampered by allergies, ineptitude, and the sheer unpredictability of following a cat. Their dynamic forms the comedic core of the film, a blend of Ricci’s dry wit and Doug’s broad pratfalls.

But the real nostalgic masterstroke? The return of Dean Jones, the star of the original That Darn Cat! He appears here not as Agent Kelso, but as the kidnapped woman’s wealthy, slightly eccentric employer, Mr. Flint. It’s a lovely nod to the past, a bridge between generations of Disney live-action, and Jones slips back into this world with effortless charm. Seeing him share the screen, even briefly, with the new generation felt like a warm wink to longtime fans.

It's fascinating to note who was steering this ship. The directing reins were held by Bob Spiers, a veteran of classic British television comedy, including directing numerous episodes of Fawlty Towers and Absolutely Fabulous. He certainly knew his way around comedic timing and chaos, traits evident in the film's more frantic sequences. Interestingly, 1997 was a banner year for Spiers, as he also directed the pop-culture juggernaut Spice World. Bringing that slightly anarchic energy to a Disney family film makes for an occasionally uneven, but often amusing, ride.

Even more surprising are the screenwriters: Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski. This duo is renowned for their brilliant, offbeat biopics like Ed Wood (1994) and The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996). Tackling a lighthearted Disney cat caper seems wildly out of character, but perhaps they relished the chance to play in a simpler sandbox. They retain the core plot but update the setting and inject that specific brand of 90s family-friendly humor – think less witty banter, more people falling over things (often thanks to D.C.).

• Feline Stars: As is common with animal actors, D.C. wasn't played by just one cat. Reportedly, several nearly identical Siamese cats were used to portray the mischievous hero, each trained for specific actions like jumping, staying put, or interacting with props (like that crucial watch).
• Boston Bound (Sort Of): While set in a fictional Boston suburb, much of the filming actually took place in South Carolina, chosen for its charming, leafy neighborhoods that could convincingly double for New England.
• Critical Cat-titude: The film wasn't exactly a critical darling upon release. Many reviewers compared it unfavorably to the 1965 original, finding the slapstick broader and the charm thinner. It currently holds a rather unfortunate 13% on Rotten Tomatoes.
• Modest Meow-ney: It didn't set the box office alight either, earning around $18.3 million domestically. While likely not a massive flop given its probable budget range for a Disney live-action of the time, it certainly didn't become the breakout hit the studio might have hoped for.
• A Familiar Face: Besides Dean Jones, eagle-eyed viewers might spot Dyan Cannon having fun as one of the snooty neighbors caught up in the suburban surveillance chaos.

Watching That Darn Cat today is like finding a slightly worn but fondly remembered cassette tape at the back of a drawer. Is it a cinematic masterpiece? Absolutely not. The plot is thin, the humor often relies on predictable slapstick, and it lacks the tighter pacing and genuine suspense of the original. Yet, there's an undeniable, easygoing charm to it. It captures that specific late-90s family movie aesthetic – bright, energetic, and determinedly lighthearted. Christina Ricci's presence lends it a unique edge, Doug E. Doug delivers the requisite goofy energy, and the sight of D.C. nonchalantly weaving through backyards, oblivious to the human chaos trailing behind him, is still amusing. It feels like comfort food cinema from a specific era – maybe not gourmet, but satisfying in its familiarity. We definitely weren't begging our parents for a super-intelligent Siamese cat after watching this, but the idea of having a furry companion lead you on an adventure? That universal kid fantasy still resonates.

Justification: While brimming with 90s nostalgia and featuring a game cast (especially the fun inclusion of Dean Jones and Ricci's unique presence), the film suffers from overly broad slapstick, a weak script compared to the original, and a generally forgettable plot. It earns points for its harmless fun and easygoing charm, making it a decent background watch or a gentle trip down memory lane, but it ultimately lacks the staying power or cleverness to rate higher.

Final Thought: It might not be the cat's pajamas of 90s cinema, but for a lazy afternoon trip back to the simpler days of video rentals and suburban shenanigans, That Darn Cat still purrs along amiably enough.