Directed by David Lowell Rich, Eye of the Cat claws its way into the tail end of the 1960s with a premise that’s part Hitchcockian suspense, part Gothic melodrama, and part giallo-lite. While it never fully embraces the stylistic excess of its European cousins, there’s just enough tension, sleaze, and visual flair to keep genre fans engaged.

The setup is deliciously pulpy: a man conspires with his lover to rob his wealthy, cat-loving aunt of her fortune. The twist? He suffers from crippling ailurophobia—a fear of cats so intense it borders on the irrational. As the couple manipulates their way into the aunt’s inner circle, it becomes clear that the real threat may not be the clowder of watchful cats, but the secrets and shifting loyalties within the human cast.

While it lacks the razor-sharp elegance of Italian gialli, the film borrows enough of the genre’s staples—suspicious motives, inheritance plots, sudden reversals—to flirt with its spirit. The San Francisco setting provides a breezy, modern contrast to the otherwise old-world paranoia. Stylish cinematography and a few well-executed suspense sequences help elevate what could have been a TV-grade thriller.

Performances are serviceable, if occasionally campy, with Michael Sarrazin giving the lead just the right balance of charm and cowardice. The cats—dozens of them—are effectively used not just as a visual motif but as avatars of retribution. Their calm menace lingers in the corners of every scene, especially as things take a turn for the sinister in the final act.

The Prognosis:

Eye of the Cat may not leave deep scratches, but it’s a fun, semi-decent slice of late-’60s paranoia with just enough bite to justify the watch. For fans of crime thrillers with a twisted core—and anyone who likes their feline horror served with a side of psychological torment—it’s worth a revisit.

• 1960s Retrospective Review by Saul Muerte