Charles Regnier is the author of 'Fraudulent Justice' which looks to become a bestseller. But it is potentially an embarrassment to the French Government. A man is carrying some secrets documents from the Archives of the Ministry of Justice when he is killed. His body has been clawed to ribbons as though he had been attacked by a powerful cat. The documents he was carrying go missing so it would seem that the murderer didn't want those papers scrutinized for some reason.

Suspicion falls upon Regnier as he was unaccountably out all night at the time of the murder. He is in the habit of leaving social gatherings on his own complaining of a headache. He sees visions of a storm and then the sight of a black cat appears. He seems to be suffering from amnesia brought on by a tropical fever he had contracted on his travels. He is accused of learning secret rituals he has discovered in India and Tibet.

A favorite of a number of 1940s B-mystery fans Douglass Dumbrille portrays the friend of Charles Regnier. There is a very good horse and carriage chase sequence but a confusing fight scene earlier in a cafe had been poorly executed. This is a reasonable mystery involving transmutation that has number of atmospheric moments. And the reproduction poster for this film with the killer's blue hand threatening the neck of a beautiful female victim has become collectible among horror film poster fans.

There is a scene in this film when "Marie" (Leonor Aubert) is in a coach, terrified, with the protagonist in this Jekyllian style thriller. She is shouting, pleading, imploring with this person - who transmorphs into a deadly cat - for him not to kill her. When she calls out for him to "say something to me" the entire cinema - maybe 50 people, all simultaneously called out "miaow". It was really an achievement of coordination and comedy timing that far surpassed anything creative being seen on the screen as this rather dreary murder mystery rubbed along. Carl Esmond is "Regnier", a successful novelist who discovers that his book is going to be censored. When the archivist carrying papers to the censor is found dead - mauled - he is suspected and off we trot on the most benign of mysteries that lacks just about everything - except, perhaps, an alluring eeriness of late 19th century Paris. The writing, directing and acting are wholly adequate, but the thing lacks any sense of menace or thrill - and at times it is little better than a darkly lit romance with a well telegraphed twist.

This is a middling to fair movie, gamely cashing in on the popular 1940s passion for Wolfman and Cat People creature films. Lame, but it limped along anyway.

Spine-chilling horror and suspense it has little of, but be fair! When you stack this film up against other non-Val Lewton movies or non-Brit films, (think DEAD OF NIGHT) it's okay for what it attempts. The director was probably a studio hack given the task of making something cheap using standing sets and on-hand costumes to fill the double bill and not run much more than an hour, thus clearing the seats for the A picture.

Workmanlike is he best that can be said about it. A good monster, wasted.

Anticipation ran high for me in the pre-home taping/DVD days when indie TV stations surrounding the SF Bay put this in their late-night viewing logs in the papers. My appetite for it was whetted by a photo spread in Monster World or maybe FAmous Monsters, showing Bob Wilke down in a makeup chair with a week's whiskers, getting on the fingernails and greasepaint and hair and full catty dentures. He looked great as the monster. His eyes were always cat-like and a bright shiny green anyway. Recall him as the first mate to Captain Nemo (James Mason) in 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA?

Robert J. Wilke made his career primarily playing villains in Westerns and was always a solid on screen presence. More of the Catman and less palaver was called for. It would be a better film, but I liked it for what little it achieved in moments of unease and threatening shadows.

And whomever id the makeup was an ace at greasepaint and direct work, without much in the way of prosthesis.

DB Jones, Mountain View, CA