Netflix decided that since I binge-watched Mindhunter, I had stomach enough to watch (don’t click this link: spoilers) Don’t F**k With Cats.
I knew nothing about the topic, which was essential. I came close to checking out during the titular scenes in the first episode, but I fast-forwarded instead. I made it well into the second episode, with more fast-forwarding, and then they referenced the events that colored my first visit to Toronto in 1995.
“That’s it,” I said. “I’m out.” I woke Gary up and told him to avoid it. Then I came back and fast forwarded through that unpleasant bit and got hooked again, especially at the end of the second episode. I woke Gary up again and said I was wrong, he needed to watch this, and that I knew where to fast forward. I actually watched the first two episodes with Gary all over again, because more than once Gary said, “These people are stupid,” and I had to say, “Wait.”
Then the third episode was very satisfying and remarkable, and then it was over. I’m sure someone at Netflix wanted them to bulk it up to an eight-episode series, but it was just right.
Just right, if you are the type of person nastily fascinated by the worst actions of the worst people on earth, which I am: I own it. If you are too, and you don’t mind having your limits tested, you should watch it. Do a shot every time the narrators say “Holy shit” or “What the fuck,” that might make it better.