Just in time for the Razzies, where it took Worst Picture and Halle Berry took Worst Actress, the OH and I watched Catwoman last night.

We put it on our Netflix queue because two people whose movie tastes we trust thought it wasn't too bad. We weren't disappointed. It certainly wasn't the best movie that could have been made of the subject, but I think there are a lot worse ways to spend my time than watching a movie that qualifies under the Bechdel rule, where women help each other, where women are powerful in a variety of ways, where one female character has no man and no interest in one, and another female character decides she's more interested in living her life than being partnered with a man with whom she doesn't agree about morals/ethics. There was also a reasonable male character, and a discussion about assumptions. And there was a fat woman character who does want a boyfriend and gets one. The plot criticized the cosmetics industry and addressed the frustration that women feel when they age past the point of youthful attractiveness and are tossed aside and when they are expected to turn all their ambitions to a focus on beauty.

Besides, it had kittycats in it.

The OH also thought that Halle Berry did a good job of moving like a cat.

And it had plot holes big enough to drive small moons through, and wooden acting, and two-dimensional villains, and I reallyreally don't think any part-feline being would consider high heels to be suitable gear for prowling around rooftops.