Reviews
‘Nyaight of the Living Cat’ – Takashi Miike’s Cat-pocalypse Zombie Pastiche Is Mad Anime Mayhem [Review]
Crunchyroll’s horror-comedy hybrid creates a unique apocalypse that’s as adorable as it is eerie and a must-watch for cat lovers.
“This isn’t the world that we used to live in! Humans can’t show affection to cats anymore!”
Zombie stories are one of horror’s oldest subgenres and an area of storytelling that has experienced its share of ups and downs over the years. The recent release of 28 Years Later, the second season of The Walking Dead: Dead City, Revival, and the upcoming Marvel Zombies indicate that the subgenre certainly isn’t struggling. That being said, it sometimes feels as if everything has already been done before with these types of horror stories. Nyaight of the Living Cat is an inventive spin that’s new, creative, and subversive. It’s a bold premise that may not work for everyone, but it’s an idea that has absolutely never been done before. This is the rare apocalyptic outbreak story that can be enjoyed by devoted horror enthusiasts, but also those who don’t have the stomach for the genre and are just big fans of cats.
Set during the height of a fast-developing apocalyptic “nyandemic,” Nyaight of the Living Cat thrusts the audience into a crumbling world that’s being increasingly overrun by cats. Long gone are the days when humans could cuddle up with their friendly feline thanks to the N.N. Virus, which transforms humans into cats through physical contact with these cute creatures. Due to the prevalence of cats, it doesn’t take long for society to devolve into a Fist of the North Star-esque dystopia.
It’s a strong, extreme setting to tell this story, the likes of which are consistently heightened and thrive on hyperbole and surprise. Nyaight of the Living Cat is directed by Tomohiro Kamitani (One Punch Man, A Certain Scientific Railgun) with Takashi Miike as executive director, both of whom do the six-volume manga source material justice. This manic experiment functions like Chi’s Sweet Home meets GYO: Tokyo Fish Attack.

Nyaight of the Living Cat boldly throws the audience right into the middle of this story. The chaos is already in progress and viewers are left to figure these characters out on the fly. There are glimpses of some of these characters’ lives pre-nyandemic, but they’re not effusive rosetta stones that suddenly recontextualize everyone. It’s an effective strategy that reflects Nyaight’s confidence. It has a very specific story that it wants to tell and it doesn’t allow itself to get distracted by catering to other unnecessary interests.
The horror genre’s framework and stylistic trappings are the anime’s biggest influences, yet Nyaight of the Living Cat also embraces other heightened genre tropes, like an amnesiac protagonist with a tortured past. Feline aficionado Kunagi is Jason Bourne, if Bourne’s area of expertise was cats, rather than combat and covert espionage. Some of these elements may seem like the series is gilding the lily. However, none of it ever comes across as gratuitous and it helps establish the exaggerated place in which this anime exists.
Nyaight of the Living Cat starts with a strong foundation. However, this is exactly the sort of concept that could overstay its welcome and continually push diminishing returns if improperly handled. It wouldn’t have been difficult to adapt Hawkman and Mecha-Roots’ manga into a movie or a two- or three-episode OVA. That being said, the series doesn’t waste time or dilute its premise. Every episode brings something original to the table that helps expand the storytelling, characters, and universe. This isn’t a case where there’s just one good idea that’s repeatedly weaponized.
The anime lovingly eschews zombie outbreak, disaster, and post-apocalypse horror movies as it juxtaposes nihilistic dread and monstrous body horror with adorable felines. There’s a real novelty to hordes of cats doing innocent, innocuous behavior – like scratching a door to get let in – yet it’s suddenly transformed into a terrifying death knell. To be clear, the visuals themselves aren’t exactly frightening. It’s the beleaguered characters who are frightened, not the audience, with many setpieces focusing on the inherent comedy of this ridiculous premise. One of the anime’s most successful sequences evokes the tense energy of a slasher while a stray cat makes his way through a building with the intensity of a velociraptor from Jurassic Park or a Xenomorph from Aliens.

There’s a beautiful quality to this where “cat lore” gets dropped as if the audience has never experienced these creatures before. Detailed, ornate explanations are provided for ordinary actions like how cucumbers and spraying water deter cats, as if they’re akin to a werewolf’s silver bullets or a vampire’s stake. Cat parables are constantly espoused by strangers as if these felines’ habits are the key to happiness and survival. This philosophy may have been true in a figurative sense before the N.N. Virus’ proliferation, but now it’s literally humanity’s best chance at staying alive.
Nyaight of the Living Cat just as easily could have taken the opposite approach – especially with Takashi Miike on board – where these cats are actually malformed, festering creatures like something you’d see in Lily C.A.T. Some may lament that Nyaight is more gags than gore, but the project deserves respect for committing the bit and getting the most out of this adorable nyandemic, It’s also considerably harder for mankind to eviscerate these threats when they look like normal, everyday cats. It’s a fascinating wrinkle that would be lost if these cats were more feral and antagonistic. Any cat killing here – a face value – makes the human look abhorrent, whereas it’s hard to begrudge anyone for taking out generic zombies.
Between these cat-astrophes, Nyaight of the Living Cat also entertains the idea that, perhaps, this nyandemic isn’t a bad thing after all and that life might be easier if everyone was just a cat. This controversial opinion ricochets between certain individuals in a way that feels quite authentic, believable, and that such an ideology would be championed by people during such an impossible situation. There’s a level of comfort and ease to this type of existence that would definitely be tempting for some.

On a visual level, Nyaight of the Living Cat features serviceable work by Studio OLM that stays faithful to Mecha-Roots’ illustrations. They’re not necessarily the first studio that comes to mind for a project like this. Curiously, their two biggest claims to fame are Pokémon and the ’90s Berserk, with Nyaight comfortably falling between both of those extremes. Despite the workman-like approach to aesthetics, there are a few sequences that are more stylized and go for broke, which really stand out. To this point, Miike’s influence is a little hard to detect, yet this still carries the energy of one of his productions. It’s nowhere near as violent and action-heavy as his previous anime, Onimusha, yet it’s not hard to picture a successful future for Miike in animation. Miike might finally be the one who can do Junji Ito justice.
Additionally, the anime’s opening and closing theme songs are particularly delightful and have the perfect energy – both visually and musically – that sets the right tone for this absurdist series. The opening theme, “Nyaight of the Living Cat,” is by Kōji Endo and includes former Megadeth guitarist Marty Friedman as well as Heidi Shepherd from the Butcher Babies. This thrash metal aesthetic carries over into the anime’s score where aggressive music tears through the soundtrack and layers tension and anxiety over calming kitten visuals.
Nyaight of the Living Cat is one of 2025’s wildest and most original anime. It’s fun horror-comedy satire that also genuinely celebrates the glory of cats and educates the audience on why they’re such a beloved – and nuanced – pet. The series flies by and doesn’t waste its audience’s time. It’s an entertaining change of pace that’s more good than bad. However, the anime does occasionally come across as frivolous and, despite its success, feels somewhat disposable. It’s easy to picture Nyaight of the Living Cat being a popular anime now, only to eventually be forgotten in a few years. It will be curious to see the anime’s staying power and legacy. Then again, curiosity killed the cat.

‘Nyaight of the Living Cat’ premieres July 6 on Crunchyroll, with weekly releases.

Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.

A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.

The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.

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