To my partial relief, I have just read that the video of the slow torture killing will not be part of the film-fest movie, which apparently is merely about the makers of the video. But ask yourself if this is any better:
Sat., August 28, 2004
It gets even loopier
Remember the Kids Who Killed a Cat, Filmed It and Called It Art? Mike Strobel Finds They’re Back
By Mike Strobel
CASUISTRY: (1) The act of deciding questions of right from wrong. (2) Clever but false reasoning.
AND HERE we thought the Kensington cat snuff film was evil, pure and simple.
That we were right to revile the three goofs who made it and be repulsed by their work.
That nothing, nothing, could justify it.
Now along comes Casuistry: The Art of Killing a Cat.
It premieres at the Toronto Film Festival Sept. 14.
The producer gave me a tape, since I wrote about the case.
You need not be a cat-lover to remember: Jesse Power, Anthony Wennekers and Matt Kaczorowski, all 20-ish, made a snuff film one Friday night in 2001.
For 17 minutes, they tormented, tortured, and oh, so, slowly, killed a gentle, striped female cat in a Kensington house.
The unlucky pet was later found skinned in a beer fridge.
It was art, said Jesse Power, the lead goof.
A few of Toronto’s loopier artistes defended them, but hardly anyone else did. I mean, this was the Bernardo/Homolka of animal cruelty cases.
Now, at last, the Three Stooges have their say.
Casuistry: The Art of Killing a Cat is produced by Linda Feesey and directed by Zev Asher. She made Sex and Cerebral Palsy. He made What About Me: The Rise of the Nihilist Spasm Band. They are not Disney.
To set the mood, they open Casuistry with scenes from a 1980 “performance art” flick, in which two cats are disembowelled and worn as hats.
Istvan Kantor filmed that gem. He has since won a Governor General’s Award.
But Jesse Power is the star of Casuistry.
(It’s his special word, right before “cat” in the dictionary.)
He’s even the soundtrack, yowling his “Anti-Meat Eating Song.”
He speaks first in shadow, then, as he warms to the topic, in full view.
His bangs dangle sexily. His eyes toy with the camera. “Man, am I charismatic,” they say. “And misunderstood.”
And a whiner.
The cops “went all righteous on me.”
Or, “I never got to eat the cat, but a lot of other people are feasting off of this cat.”
Or, things got gory because he and his pals were “disorganized” and one of them gave him a dull razor. Plus they were dozy on drugs.
And, anyway, “everything takes a long time to die, no matter what it is.” He got 90 days, on weekends.
He blames the papers, and society, and the young woman who called the cops (in hopes of a reward, says our Jesse).
Pal Wennekers even manages to blame cats, “just a smarter version of rats, an artifact of human culture.”
Sometimes, bull-fights or squealing swine flash across Casuistry. Remember, Power’s “art video” was to show the “hypocrisy” of pets in a world of abattoirs.
And, step right up, see Jesse Power chop off a runt chicken’s head. See him cuddle a rotting pig, play puppet with a baby orangutan’s corpse.
There is none of the Kensington tape. The filmmakers couldn’t get their hands on it.
They also couldn’t find any backers, even in usually fertile arts councils and grant offices. Total budget was, oh, $500.
Apologists were a dime a dozen, though.
A friend of Matt’s tells us how the guy is a talented writer and once asked for a teddy bear.
“Artists” say things like: “Young men, as they’re growing up and learning how things work, they always kill something. It’s part of growing and developing as a young person.”
Det. John Margetson, the humane society and the like, bring some balance and sense, thank goodness.
“I cannot condone, or condemn, what [Power and Co.] did,” says Zev Asher, down the line from Montreal.
“I think it was a misguided adventure, that they were inebriated and did something sick and stupid.
“I think Jesse is an artist. I don’t think this was art at all, though I understand what he was trying to do.”
I dunno. You should see those 17 minutes, Mr. Asher.
I have. So when Jesse Power smirks that maybe he’ll be “torn apart by a cougar” when he goes camping … it’s hard not to root for the cougar.
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