It's a simple formula: one cat, one camera, and a massive existential crisis.
Oh yeah, and subtitles.
Henri le chat noir has a certain je ne sais quoi: He's not the cutest kitty, but he has a way with words. French words that is.
He's almost like a feline Serge Gainsbourg, just without the singing, or the alcoholism, or the public scandal. Or maybe he's not like that at all. Maybe Henri, is, as he so eloquently states in his latest film, his "own cat."
But that doesn't stop him from being taken to the vet, to get the gunk cleaned out of his ears. Nor does it stop him from trying to identify his nemesis, who Henri believes is conspiring against him.
Oh Henri, perhaps the greatest tragedy of your boredom is that you do not realize that you are your own nemesis.
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