Cat (played by Orangey, trainer Frank Inn) is one of the most popular characters in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (Blake Edwards, 1961), possibly more well-liked than Holly Golightly’s (Audrey Hepburn) love interest, Paul Varjak (George Peppard). Cat watches Holly’s parties from above, preferring to perch himself on a high shelf, using men’s shoulders as stepping stones on his way up or down, unperturbed by the commotion of Holly’s life.
However, Cat is more than charming set décor; he’s an externalization of Holly’s unrooted identity, a no-name slob she took up with by the river. Due largely to the climactic final sequence (when Holly and Paul run after Cat in the rain), the no-name feline is often associated with their relationship. After all, Cat is often present at pivotal moments in their developing romance, and in the final scene, Cat clearly plays a symbolic role. Holly finally claims the feline as hers because she herself has been tamed by Paul.
However, Holly (and her relationship to Cat) is not solely defined by this romantic trajectory. She resists the trap of love, resists being pinned down, because her sense of self is uncertain. Holly is a woman with dual identities, and we only get brief glimpses into what seems like her authentic self. She’s a rural southern girl named Lula Mae and a New York party girl named Holly, but neither of those are fully her.
“I’m not Holly! I’m not Lula Mae either. I don’t know who I am!” she cries to Paul in the final sequence. She claims she’s just like Cat, a no-name slob, with no real connections or home. The rural identity is something she rejects, something she shed years ago, but the carefree party girl persona displays cracks as well. Like the producer O.J. Berman (Martin Balsam) says, “She’s a phony. But, she’s a real phony!”
We first meet Cat in the same scene that we meet Paul. Paul has just moved into the building and asks to use Holly’s phone. During their conversation, she explains why she can’t name the cat, not until she finds the place where she belongs, a place like Tiffany’s jewelry store. Being at Tiffany’s, she explains, quells “the mean reds,” her code-phrase for her periods of intense depression. However, this Tiffany’s is a fantasy, a fiction that Holly chases via her rich men and society persona.
“If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s,” Holly tells Paul, “then…then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name!”
The domestication of both Holly and Cat is dependent on Holly finding a space where she feels like herself. It’s a place of security. However, it turns out that what she’s looking for can’t be found in a physical place. It’s not in Hollywood or New York or Brazil.
Like Dorothy discovering the ruby slippers’ power was hers all along, Holly must find the Tiffany’s within herself.
The IU Cinema previously screened Breakfast at Tiffany’s in December 2015 as part of the Sunday Matinee Classics series.
Watch more cats at the IU Cinema during CatVideoFest 2019 on Saturday June 8, 4:00 pm as part of the International Arthouse Series.
Laura Ivins loves stop motion, home movies, imperfect films, nature hikes, and Stephen Crane’s poetry. She has a PhD from Indiana University and an MFA from Boston University. In addition to watching and writing about movies, sometimes she also makes them.