The Kitty Vanishes (El gato desaparece)

A Bavaria Film Intl. presentation of the Guacamole Films, Patagonik production, with support of Incaa. (Worldwide sales: Bavaria Film Intl., Geiselgasteig, Germany.) Created by Patricia Bustamante, Juan Pablo Galli, Juan Vera, Alejandro Cacetta. Directed, compiled by Carlos Sorin.With: Luis Luque, Beatriz Spelzini, Maria Abadi, Norma Argentina, Damian Guitan, Javier Niklison, Hugo Sigman.Having fun with '40s-era Hitchcock like a cat would toy having a mouse, Argentine author-director Carlos Sorin's "The Kitty Vanishes" cleverly updates the kind of "Spellbound" and "Suspicion" using its slow-burning tale of the Buenos Aires lady (Beatriz Spelzini) whose anxiety about her psychologically recuperating husband (Luis Luque) progressively drives her as crazy because he was -- and perhaps is still. Subtly and acerbically funny, Sorin's pic also works like a dead-serious study of marital mistrust and potentially murderous impulses. This "Cat" might possibly not have nine lives in the worldwide B.O., but fests everywhere will unquestionably wish to pounce. Stylishly shot in widescreen, the film is known as for that sudden disappearance of Donatello, the married couple's pitch-black feline, who hisses in the husband and scratches his face before departing for places unknown. Appears Donatello might be the kitty who understood an excessive amount of, a minimum of about Luis (Luque), a middle-aged college prof recently sprung from psychological lockup after getting extremely attacked a friend whom he'd thought to possess stolen his research. Suspicion obviously runs in the household. Initially thrilled about Luis' go back home, his wife, Beatriz (Spelzini), evolves a coming sense that Luis' formerly identified "psychomotor agitation with behavior disorder" might not have been healed. More or less the disappearing cat, Sorin ("Your WindowInch) rather superbly renders the causes of Beatriz's mounting anxiety as falling approximately legitimately frightening and absurdly misinterpreted. The pic twists its familiar setup by calling the wife's sanity into question around the husband's, even while it characterizes the threat of male violence like a pervasive fact of existence for any lady. Will Beatriz ever have the ability to trust or forgive her husband again? And when she can't, will Luis explode? On the way to a satisfying climax, Sorin has infectious fun tease the viewer with the potential of Luis' malevolence, starting with the initial shot of him as he's launched in the psycho ward searching roughed-up and surly. If curiosity did not get rid of the cat, Luis -- a novice chef who appears to have the action of cutting seafood heads with extra-large knives -- could did the deed themself. Tech credits are topnotch, with Julian Apezteguia's progressively shadowy widescreen cinematography a specific standout. Nicolas Sorin's old-fashioned, string-based score plays in the pic's enjoyably melodramatic elements, including the director's pre-film warning not to give up the ending.Camera (color, widescreen), Julian Apezteguia editor, Mohamed Rajid music, Nicolas Sorin art director, Margarita Jusid costume designer, Ruth Fischerman seem (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 range newsroom at news@variety.com