THE ARISTOCATS

Origin: ?

Summary: Upon Madame Adelaide Bonfamille's passing, her cat Duchess and three kittens stand to inherit her fortune. But not if Edgar the butler can help it. - Imdb.com

Length: 78 minutes
Rating: G
Date of Original Release: 1970

Director: Wolfgang Reitherman
Writers: Larry Clemmons, Vance Gerry, Ken Anderson, Frank Thomas, Eric Cleworth, Julius Svendsen, Ralph Wright, Tom McGowan, Tom Rowe
Art Director:
Music: George Bruns

Cast
THOMAS O'MALLEY - Phil Harris
DUCHESS - Eva Gabor (singing voice: Robie Lester)
BERLIOZ - Dean Clark
MARIE - Liz English
TOULOUSE - Gary Dubin
EDGAR - Roddy Maude-Roxby
MADAME ADELAIDE - Hermione Baddeley
GEORGES - Charles Lane
ROQUEFORT - Sterling Holloway
NAPOLEON - Pat Buttram
LAFAYETTE - George Lindsey
AMELIA - Carole Shelley
ABIGAIL - Monica Evans
FROU-FROU - Nancy Kulp
SCAT CAT - Scatman Crothers
SHUN GON - Paul Winchell
BILLY BASS - Thurl Ravenscroft
PEPPO - Vito Scotti
HIT CAT - Lord Tim Hudson
UNCLE WALDO - Bill Thompson

Plot & Commentary
May I just mention how cute the animated credits to this film are. Oh, let’s just start here. The title card comes up and says The Aristocrats and a little pencil kitten runs by and pulls out the R. He runs back and smushes the letters back together, and the logic that this would cause the c to squash up into a C pleases me. A happy Frenchman sings a song in English, meaning the only word I understand is “aristocats.”

We open our story in Paris, on a bridge near the Eiffel Tower. Why aren’t there a lot of animated films set in major American cities? We have yet to see them paint D.C. but Paris and London have been visited many times. Just saying. It’s 1910. A carriage is rolling down the street. A little black kitten jumps on the carriage horse’s pink flowered hat. There’s an elderly lady riding in the carriage and she pets two white cats, one of them a kitten named Marie, the other Duchess, mother to this trio. An orange kitten jumps onto the driver’s shoulder and tries to climb up his face to bat some sort of decorative thing on his top hat. Edgar (the man) smiles with the patience of Job and removes him. Aww.
They pull up at the house and everyone disembarks. The black kitten, Berlioz, has a red necktie and the orange one, Toulouse, has a blue bowtie. They play around the horse’s feet. Duchess reminds Berlioz to thank the horse (named Frou-Frou. Yes, you read that right. FROU-FROU, and she has a voice that could curdle milk) for the ride. Madame calls the cats inside and reminds Edgar that her attorney is coming over. By the way, Megan, I wrote no comments to you in this recap because you were present for the viewing session, so all worthy comments were already made in your hearing.

An old man pulls up in a rattling car. He doesn’t have any teeth. He probably lost them in his eyebrows. Singing enthusiastically, he uses a walking cane to go leaping down the walk. What kind of drugs did they have in 1910? Edgar lets him in and Georges begins to make his unsteady way up the stairs.
          GEORGES: Come on Edgar, last one up the stairs’s a nincompoop!
          EDGAR: Ah, could we take the elevator this time, sir?
          GEORGES: That birdcage? Poppycock! Elevators are for OLD people!
He loses his balance but Edgar rescues him from a full backslide. Georges catches Edgar’s suspenders and uses them to propel him forward. He lands on Edgar’s back, and they topple up to the second floor. I’ll just be over here, laughing hugely.

Upstairs: Madame is admiring herself in front of a huge full length mirror. Thanks for stopping by, narcissism. She’s got a poofy pink shawl on and reminds Duchess that Georges is their oldest friend. Duchess has changed collars. Five minutes ago she was wearing a gold band and now she’s got some fancy blue thing on. You’re kidding me, right? There’s a knock at the door and Edgar collapses into the room to announce Monsieur Georges Hautecourt. The kittens run to greet him.
The gramophone is playing “Habanera” from Carmen. Oh, Madame’s an eccentric ex-actress. Terrific. Georges waxes enthusiastically nostalgic about their first meeting, when they danced the night away. They share a little smile and I don’t know if we’re just supposed to appreciate the fact that they’re such old friends or understand that there was once something there. If I’m supposed to be picking up on the something, I’m not. I’m not Madame’s biggest fan right now, anyway, so I don’t care about her romantic past. They dance through the room with Duchess held up between them. This is hysterical, because Madame is tall and elegant and Georges is half her height and bowlegged. Berlioz rides on the spinning record and knocks the needle off track.
Georges settles in at the desk to make Madame’s will. His coke-bottle glasses are spectacular. She reminds him that she has no living relatives and she wants her feline darlings to be well cared-for. No one can do this better than Edgar, she says. There’s a little two-way tube from the sitting room to Edgar’s bedroom, and he stands there ironing and eavesdropping. Georges starts in on Madame’s vast fortune and this house and those bonds and that country chateau, etc. etc. etc. She really plans to leave it all to her butler? Edgar starts doing a happy little dance in the middle of his room.
          MADAME: Oh, no, Georges! To my cats!
          GEORGES: [even more horrified] To your CATS?
          EDGAR: CATS?
Edgar sinks and buries his face in his hands. Madame explains that they will inherit first, and at the end of their lives Edgar will inherit everything. Oh my lawrd. This is only going to encourage the cat fanatics. IT IS NOT NORMAL, EVERYONE. THE WOMAN IS UNHEALTHILY OBSESSED. They are cats. SHE IS CRAZY. Edgar does some inaccurate math and comes to the conclusion that having one foot in the grave is not going to cut it when it comes time for him to inherit the estate. There are a million dollars of reasons why those cats have got to go! Like the cats are going to know any differently. I will just quietly point that out.

The varmints in question are happily racing around outside. They all launch themselves at the cat-door and get stuck. Marie is the only one with an English accent. The boys are Americans. Since Duchess is Hungarian, I guess that’s how the cards fall.
          TOULOUSE: Why should you be first?
          MARIE: Because I’m a lady, that’s why!
          TOULOUSE: You’re not a lady!
          BERLIOZ: You’re nothing but a sister!
They chase each other into the drawing room, bickering as they go. These kittens are freaking adorable. Not because they’re kittens, either. They just have really cute personalities and their interactions are really fun. It reminds me of how twins interact (I guess triplets is more accurate)—one discovers something, the other mimics; minds always turned up to 100%. It’s of course also very kitten-like, with the chasing and the wrestling and the batting. Toulouse accidentally drops a candle on Marie and she hollers for Mama. Duchess, who has changed her collar yet again, enters and gently reminds them how ladies and lovely gentlemen act. Berlioz smiles. “We were just practicing biting and clawing.” Duchess says it’s time for Self Improvement.
Toulouse goes over to his painting items and the other two are allowed to watch. He mixes up a mess of purple paint and produces a masterpiece that looks like Edgar. The kittens have nicknamed him “Old picklepuss Edgar.” Duchess reminds them that Edgar is very fond of them and takes very good care of them. You’re in for a nasty surprise, Duchess.

Picklepuss is cooking in the kitchen. He mixes an entire bottle of sleeping tablets, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla into warm cream. Um, I’ll take a mug of that, please. He makes up a little rhyme and thinks he’s very clever. I really liked this guy five minutes ago and I’m annoyed that he’s got this dopey little smile that makes me want to still really like him but no, he’s got to be the bad guy.

Duchess sends Marie and Berlioz to the piano. I love this cat’s voice. How can you not love your mother when she has that voice? Marie flicks her tail in Berlioz’s face, and he tackles her, and she pulls him off the piano stool and goes over to the side and fluffs her fur. Got some tips from Madame there, Marie? She watches in annoyance as Berlioz cracks all of his twenty toes. “I’m ready, Maestr-ohh.” He runs his paws down the keys and it crimps her tail. “Mama, Mama! He did it again!”
Duchess settles them down. I like that these kittens are brats to each other but never to her. Berlioz plays the piano while Marie sings, then has his own solo. A paint-covered Toulouse joins him and Duchess and Marie sing a duet. They’re too freaking cute. And such children. And such siblings. And such showoffs. I love it, love it, love it. The song ends with the whole family singing and the boys jumping up and down on the piano keys. Good thing Madame is completely in love with these cats and won’t care that her billion dollar piano is now rainbow colored.
Edgar arrives with four dishes of Crème de la Crème a la Edgar. The cats dig in. A mouse named Roquefort pokes his head out of a hole in the wall and joins them. He dunks a cracker in the cream. Everyone gets sleepy quickly.

Now Edgar does a very foolish thing. In the middle of the night he packs the sleeping cats into a covered basket and sneaks out of town on a motorbike (We get a quick tour of Paris. Thanks, Disney. I’ve never been to France). I call it foolish because Edgar’s timing is terrible. He’s not going to get the inheritance tomorrow. Why not wait until Madame dies and then take care of the cats? She might even choose another heir between now and then, with her cherished pets gone. I know, I know. We have to have a story. I just needed to vocalize that once, and now I’ll shut up.

He heads out into the countryside and runs into two dogs named Napoleon and Lafayette. These dogs run the fine line between irritating and awesome and come out on the side of awesome. Napoleon is a regular brown hound with a back country accent and Lafayette is a basset hound who trips over his own ears and it’s actually funny. I have a soft spot for animals under the illusion that they live army lives.
          NAPOLEON: Now sound the attack!
          LAFAYETTE: [barks]
          NAPOLEON: No, that’s mess call!
          LAFAYETTE: [stupid grin] Made a mess of it, huh?
          NAPOLEON: You can be replaced, you know.
They wage war on Edgar and his motorbike. He veers off of the road and loses the cat basket by a bridge over a stream. The Dogs vs. Edgar sequence is extremely entertaining. They manage to break the sidecar off of the motorbike and at one point spin around on the arms of a windmill. It’s a valiant effort, but Edgar makes his escape on his motorcar. Way to win, Edgar. I hope you go up in a motorcar explosion.

Thunder wakes Duchess—something tragic has happened, so of course it’s about to rain—and she searches for her children. She’s been thrown out of the basket. “Oh, where am I? I’m not at home at all!” and instead of wanting to make some Captain Obvious comment, I feel all ‘DUCHESS, YOUR VOICE MAKES EVEN CAPTAIN OBVIOUS LINES SOUND ELEGANT, PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!’ She finds Marie lodged in a tree. Berlioz comes toward them through the water, looking like a drowning rat. “I’m coming, Mama. Gee, I’m-m cold and I’m-m-m wet.” Toulouse is still sleeping comfortably in the covered basket. He tells them that Edgar did this to them but the others don’t believe it. They all pile into the basket to wait out the night and the storm. Duchess: “Poor Madame. She’ll be so worried when she finds us gone.” I have to hand it to these cats. They love that lunatic as much as she loves them.

Duchess is correct. Madame wakes up looking for her cats—whose bed is ridiculous—and finds them missing. She runs shrieking through her house. This wakes up Roquefort the mouse, who sees the storm and immediately rushes out into the rain and dark to find the cats and help them. That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

It’s a beautiful morning at the stream. Duchess wakes to someone singing. It’s a tomcat named Thomas O’Malley, and he’s singing about himself and his wanderlust. I can’t help loving songs that burst into brassy jazz, even if they are all about ego. He spies Duchess, who is quite a lovely cat, and starts sing-flirting with her. She’s a savvy one, though, and just starts washing herself. The kittens wake up and watch the show. Toulouse is excited to meet an alley cat. Marie tells him to shut up. The song ends and Duchess applauds and calls the tom a great talent without making herself sound like either a simpleton or a flirt. She has a very sincere personality and I like that. DUCHESS, TEACH ME YOUR WAYS! He starts laying it on heavy: “And those eyes! Ooh. Why, your eyes are like sapphires, sparkling so bright, they make the morning radiant… and light.” Marie melts into a puddle. “How romantic!” Duchess calls it very pretty but she doesn’t want to hear any more—she’s in a great deal of trouble. He’s thrilled to hear it. She wants directions to Paris. He starts talking about flying her to Paris in a magic carpet, which is the best news the kittens have heard all day. They pop up like whack-a-moles and throw his groove out of joint. Marie: “Mama, do I have sparkling sapphire eyes that sparkle, too?” Way to make him squirm, kid. I applaud you. Berlioz takes him to task about the magic carpet and Thomas continues to stutter. “No poetry to cover the situation?” Duchess smiles. Oh, this FAMILY. He pulls out the slick words but it’s not going to work. Duchess has been around the block, buddy, and she can see right through your transparent flattery. “Perhaps a magic carpet… built for two?” Marie makes me aww: “I wouldn’t take up much room.” The four start to walk away, and Marie looks at Thomas with fluttering eyes and sighs romantically. Haha. Toulouse shows off his hackles and spitting tactics. Thomas encourages him: he must be a real tiger. Toulouse: “Yeah! That’s ’cause I practice all the time!”
Now that we’ve smashed Thomas to pieces, let’s observe as he rebuilds himself. He watches them depart with a chuckle. “Now that’s quite a family.” He fell in love with them as quickly as we did. He looks disgusted with himself. “Come to think of it, O’Malley, you’re not a cat, you’re a rat. Right? Right.” He calls for them to stop. “Now kids. If I said magic carpet, magic carpet it’s gonna be!” They smile at him eagerly.
His magic carpet is a milk truck. Thomas’s methods of making it stop involve jumping on the hood and going ballistic. The driver yells SACRE-BLEU!!! and nearly crashes the van. The animals vs. humans scenes in this movie are pure gold. While he’s winding the motor, Thomas gets the aristocats loaded onto the back (see how subtly I slipped that in? Nicely done, I know). He sends them off with a string of farewells. Marie calls “Sayonara, Mr. O’Malley!” to him and falls off the truck. Oh, MARIE. Thomas saves her and drops her back into the truckbed, which gives him a convenient opportunity to rejoin them.

Back in Paris, Madame is staring sadly out of windows. Voiceover Duchess says, “She’d always say that we’re the greatest treasure she’d ever own.” At least Madame values living creatures over money. Madame lives in such a beautiful mansion. Why doesn’t a Disney neighborhood exist? I’m absolutely serious. Disney, listen. This is a really good idea. For free. My ideas are really good, I promise. Build a neighborhood of all the homes in your movies. I KNOW, RIGHT? Every four years, transition people in and out (so that we can give the non-millionaires a chance to participate). I’ll get back to you about which house is going to be mine. My lips to Disney’s ears. Or, in this case, my fingers to your eyes. Oh, right, we’re watching a movie here.

Frou-Frou greets a downtrodden Roquefort, who met with zero success on his rescue mission. It’s a sad day for everyone, they agree—and then Edgar comes prancing up. “Can you keep a secret? Hmm? Haha. Of course you can.” Frou-Frou watches him suspiciously. “Look, Frou-Frou! I’ve made the headlines! ‘Mysterious catnapper abducts family of cats.’” Edgar clearly didn’t get the memo that this is a Disney movie. The horse and mouse watch him with slowly building rage. He’s on a self-congratulatory high—“They won’t find a single clue to implicate me! Not one single clue! Why, I’ll eat my hat if they—MY HAT! MY UMBRELLA!” There goes Edgar’s good day. He runs out of the stable at top speed so that he can wait somewhere for the day to pass, then go tonight to retrieve his belongings somehow. Also, Edgar, you’ve forgotten that you didn’t actually get rid of the cats. You just lost them. The rest of your plan has been so well thought out, I thought I’d point out that teensy detail.

The milk truck trundles on. O’Malley delights the kittens by coming up with a “magic spell” to create breakfast. It’s very cute, the friendship he’s purposely forging with them. They raid the milk jugs. The driver sees them in his rearview mirror and comes to a screeching halt. He kicks them out, screaming Disney profanities. Duchess calls him a horrible person. I can’t blame the man for being angry with them for stealing and contaminating his milk.
They keep moving. Their path takes them over a river that’s spanned by a train bridge. Toulouse: “Come on, let’s play train!” The trio hops onto the rail. “Marie’s the caboose!” She scowls at him. They chug merrily across the bridge. “Clickety clickety clickety. Clickety. Whoo-whoo!” Another whistle sounds and a train engine comes roaring toward them at about a thousand miles an hour. They all manage to get beneath the tracks in the nick of time. The train passes. Marie has managed to fall off the bridge. OH, MARIE. Thomas dives into the water to save her. They float down the river until he’s able to pass her to Duchess, and he calls that he’ll meet them downstream. Toulouse: “Gee, Marie! Why’d you have to fall off the bridge?” YEAH, MARIE. WHAT’D YOU DO THAT FOR?

Two white ducks waddle down a path to some jaunty music. One is wearing a pink bonnet, the other is wearing a blue bonnet. I’m interested to know how they managed to tie those ribbons. They discuss how the French countryside has the great fortune to resemble England.
          DUCK 1: Ameliar, if I walk much farther I’ll get flat feet!
          DUCK 2: Abighail, we were born with flat feet!
Duck jokes. When they’ve picked themselves up from their fit of laughter, they spy Thomas in the water. He’s trying to grab something to pull himself to shore. They think he’s trying to learn to swim and paddle out to correct him. Ohhhhhhh no. “Don’t worry about form! It will come later.” They watch him sink and bubbles form. This is concerning. They dive.

The aristocats (heh, did it again) arrive at the shore in time to witness O’Malley strung around the necks of the geese. “You really did quite well for a beginner,” Abigail tells him. He looks even more like a half-drowned rat than Berlioz did. He drowned his dignity, too.
          ABIGAIL: Keep practicing!
          AMELIA: And toodly-pip!
Duchess and the giggling geese make introductions. Everything these two say makes them dissolve into laughing fits. I know people who are like this. Thomas calls them web-footed lifeguards and wants them gone.
          DUCHESS: Now, now, Thomas.
          THOMAS: Okay. Okay, baby. … [shortly] Hiya, chicks.
They practically collapse. He looks consternated. They’re not chickens! they inform him. They’re geese! Oh! he thought they were swans. It’s okay, Thomas. I only recently learned they aren’t ducks. They compliment Duchess on her charming husband.
          O’MALLEY: I’m not exactly her husband.
          AMELIA: “Exactly”? You either are, or you’re not.
          O’MALLEY: All right. [licks his arm] I’m not.
          AMELIA AND ABIGAIL: Ohh?
They begin whispering to each other about cads and reprobates and scandal. “His eyes are too close together.” Hahahaha. Berlioz looks closely at O’Malley to confirm their evaluations. Duchess is amused by all this. She explains the situation. O’Malley fails to shake the waterfowl when it’s discovered that they all have the same destination. The geese arrange everyone in a V. Abigail: “Mr. O’Malley, (barely suppressed giggle) I think you should be the rear end.” I want a screencap of every aggravated expression Thomas puts on in this film. The jaunty music returns. The whole troupe waddles down the road.

Paris: nighttime. A chef chases a goose out of a restaurant kitchen. The cats and geese waddle up to him. It’s Uncle Waldo. He’s totally smashed. “Abigail! AmEEElia! Haha. My two… favorite gooses. Heeec.” He got drunk on cooking wine, which is hilarious. He was supposed to be part of the menu—goose in white wine.
          O’MALLEY: Basted! He’s been marinated in it!
Being British, Uncle Waldo would have preferred sherry. “Sherrrr-ry! Sherry!” The geese all dissolve into giggles together. Abigail and Amelia try to contain their uncle with shushes but they’re cracking up. They stumble down the street and the cats affectionately watch them go.

Sherlock Roquefort hitches a ride on the back of Edgar’s motorbike but gets thrown off into the street. This valiant little mouse just has no luck at all.

Egdar sneaks around the haystacks by the windmill, looking for his things. Napoleon and Lafayette have found the cat basket and now they’re asleep in it and the sidecar. Napoloeon is wearing Edgar’s bowler. I love this subplot. Napoleon hears Edgar’s squeaky shoes and wakes his companion.
          LAFAYETTE: Aw, shucks Napoleon, that ain’t nothin’ but a little ol’ cricket-bug!
          NAPOLEON: It’s squeaky shoes approachin’.
          LAFAYETTE: Oh, cricket bugs don’t wear shoes!
Napoleon identifies Edgar’s footwear as “Oxford shoes, size nine and a half. Hole in the left sole, it sounds like.”
          LAFAYETTE: What color are they?
          NAPOLEON: Why, they’re bla—oh, now how would I know that?!
Edgar removes his shoes. The dogs decide it was a cricket and go back to sleep. Edgar, inside a haystack, uses a fishing rod and various other tactics to retrieve his possessions. The dogs come to the slow realization that everything has vanished. “Where’s my baby-bye basket?” wails Lafayette. They go searching for their things. Lafayette walks into the shoes and they start squeaking. “Napoleon, I’m plumb ghost-pimply scared!” They manage to frighten each other half to death, which results in Edgar retrieving everything. He away rolls down the road, quite satisfied.

Ah, the moon over Paris. Duchess wishes they could make it home tonight, but the bedraggled kittens are nearly asleep on their feet. O’Malley leads them to his home. Music bursts out of the attic. O’Malley’s jazz band cat friends have stopped by.
          O’MALLEY: They’re real swingers.
          DUCHESS: Shwinger? What is a shwinger?
SHE IS JUST PRECIOUS. O’Malley introduces the two groups to each other. This builds into a very energetic song. Everyone sings about how everyone in the world wants to be a cat. I will let this pass without comment. The jazz fiasco ends with everyone crashing through the floor of every level of the building. They emerge with busted instruments and smiles plastered in their faces.

The kittens are put to bed. They sing pieces of the Cats are So Great song as they drift off. O’Malley watches them fall asleep with a big soppy smile on his face. AWW. Duchess and O’Malley go out to talk on the roof. The kittens jump out of bed to eavesdrop. Duchess likes Thomas’s friends, and she likes his place, even though it’s in the low-rent district. I like that she’s not a snob.
          DUCHESS: I like it! All it needs is a little tidying up and… maybe a little feminine touch.
          O’MALLEY: Well, if you’re applying for the job, well…
          MARIE: Goody! Mother’s going to work for Mr. O’Malley!
They talk about the kids and how much he likes them and that they need a father around. Only, Duchess decides that their lives are too far apart for them to be together. She could never leave Madame. “Well,” says Berlioz. “We almost had a father.” Everyone goes sadly to bed.

The cats arrive on the street where they live. Thomas is impressed.
Inside, Roquefort sees them coming and is alarmed. Edgar smokes a cigar and pops open a bottle of champagne. He tells himself to get used to the finer things in life, since one day they’re all going to be his. Not if Madame catches you lazing off, Edgar. You’re going to be fired faster than you can say “Cheaters never prosper.”

The kittens run to the door, only to find the kitty door nailed shut. They meow loudly. Edgar nearly drowns on his champagne. Roquefort tries to sign to them to go away. At the gate, O’Malley and Duchess are still saying their sad goodbyes. They finally part. Edgar lets the cats in. He traps them in a bag. “You came BACK? It just isn’t fair!” Madame calls him, thinking she heard the cats. He throws the bag in the oven and runs off to fake call them. From inside the oven, the cats try to communicate with Roquefort .
          ROQUEFORT: His name is O WHAT?
          DUCHESS: His name is O’Malley! O’Malley!
          MARIE: Abraham de Lacy! Giuseppe Casey!
          DUCHESS: Oh, never mind! [he opens the vent] RUN, RUN, GO GET HIM!
Roquefort shoots away. A pause. Inside the oven:
          TOULOUSE: I toldya it was Edgar!
          BERLIOZ: Aw, shut up, Toulouse.
Madame decides she’s lost her mind and goes inside. Edgar smiles. Now I’d like to punch you, Edgar.

Roquefort goes racing down the sidewalk and stops O’Malley, who sends him to get the jazz band. “AAAALLEY CATS? … But I’m a mouse!” Still, Roquefort bravely obeys. There’s a little tension when he forgets O’Malley’s name. Everyone connects the dots and they race to the aid of their friend. I’m not saying I want to be a member of the mafia, but I do like the brotherhood aspect of things like this—one’s in trouble, the rest drop everything to help him.

Thomas looks through the window and sees Edgar on the phone. Edgar goes out to the stable and dumps the bag into a trunk addressed to Timbuktu. And so begins O’Malley and Then Eventually All the Other Animals vs. Edgar. Amidst the ruckus, Roquefort gets the trunk open. They manage to get Edgar locked in the trunk right as the truck arrives to cart it away.

Everyone is happily reunited: Madame has gathered all the cats together for a photograph—O’Malley in a bowtie included. The attorney is there to finish up the will.
          GEORGES: Scratch one butler.
          MADAME: You know Georges… if Edgar had only known about the will, I’m sure he
          never would have left.
If you hadn’t been a cat-obsessed lunatic, also. But greed has learned its lesson today, and I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that we all have that warm feeling that comes from watching it gets its due while involving no effort on my part but observing from the sofa. Madame approves of O’Malley. She wants to make sure that any future kittens are covered by the will also. Jeez louise. Music starts up downstairs and everyone goes to see what it is (more adorable kittens running. Ah!). What it is: Madame has started a new foundation—a home for all the alley cats of Paris. I guess someone had to do it. It’s a far better idea than leaving a huge fortune to four cats. We go out on more jazz music and everyone singing. I like the end of this movie.

It’s over!

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