Whatever one feels about it, and it's a film that tends to evoke strong reactions both pro and con, there's no other film quite like Track of the Cat. Cat grew out of director William Wellman's desire to shoot a color movie but to design it in such a way that there was an almost absolute absence of color. Thus, aside from Robert Mitchum's red coat and Diana Lynn's yellow shirt (and, of course, the skin tones of the cast members), just about everything else in the film is in black, white or some shade of gray. It's a stunning design decision, and it adds an unsettling, ethereal undertone to the proceedings that is remarkably effective. As captured by William H. Clothier's startling yet nuanced cinematography, it is both beautiful and disturbing. For many who prize Cat, its visual allure is more than enough to justify it. However, there are likewise many who believe that Cat's style alone is not enough, and who find the story attached to the film to be clunkily symbolic, unconvincing dramatically and quite boring, and peopled with characters who are types rather than human beings and who therefore wear out their welcome early on. This criticism is hard to argue with, and even the fine performances from Mitchum and Beulah Bondi may not be enough to convince some people to stay with Cat. Perhaps the best assessment is merely that Cat is a unique and personal film, with enormous highs and lows, and that one's response to it is likely to be equally personal.