Eye of the Cat

A clever-but-needy young couple hatches a plan to steal the fortune of an eccentric, reclusive aunt who lives in a sprawling mansion. The target seems easy: an isolated house, a brittle relative, and a fortune within reach. But the aunt’s home is overrun with dozens of cats, and the man’s crippling fear of felines turns a simple robbery into a nerve-wracking ordeal. What begins as a smooth scheme soon becomes a claustrophobic scramble where every purr and shadow amplifies danger.

The house itself is a character, its dim rooms and winding corridors populated by indifferent, watchful cats that seem to mark every step. Tension builds not only from the practical problems the animals create — scratched upholstery, rustling draperies, unexpected visitors — but from the emotional strain on the couple. As they tiptoe deeper into the aunt’s world, secrets start to trickle out: motives are questioned, loyalties fray, and the line between predator and prey blurs. The film balances elements of suspense and dark humor, using the presence of animals to explore paranoia and human weakness.

As the heist unravels, the characters are forced to confront more than just the practical obstacles; fears become metaphors, and the aunt’s eccentricities reveal unsettling truths about control and inheritance. The climax plays out with catlike unpredictability, delivering surprises that are as psychological as they are physical. Tense, atmospheric, and occasionally slyly comic, the story examines how a single phobia can undo even the most carefully laid plans and how obsession with wealth can expose the most fragile parts of a relationship.