As much as The Sandman is about telling long, sweeping fantasy stories about Dream and his siblings, the comic book series is often at its best when it focuses on smaller, standalone stories. The major story arcs are often broken up by these interlude tales. Dream himself often fades into the background, with the one common thread being that these stories explore the intersection between mortal dreamers and the world of dreams. The Netflix series already captured that magic through the stellar "The Sound of Her Wings," which faithfully adapts two early standalone stories from the comic. Episode 11 continues the trend, though in this case the two tales in question are treated as distinct chapters rather than two parts of a whole. That seems the right approach. Whereas Dream and Death's reunion transitioned naturally into the story of Dream's 600-year friendship with Hob Gadling in Episode 6, there's no real point of connection between these two tales. "A Dream of a Thousand Cats" is the more stylistically interesting of the two, given that it's the series' first animated installment. Unfortunately, it's also the weaker of the pair in terms of its execution. This segment is certainly faithful to the source material from The Sandman #18. It's more or less a direct adaptation of Neil Gaiman's original script. But faithful or not, there's a certain whimsy to the original comic that doesn't quite survive the translation to live-action. Part of that is simply the animation style. The rotoscoped animation applies an extra coat of paint to reality, rather than trying to channel the brooding, surreal quality of artist Kelley Jones' work. Nor does it allow for any added emotional expression from the various feline characters. The voice cast here is solid, but there's a disconnect between the vocal performances and the characters we see onscreen. Make no mistake, the story still retains much of its power in this new form. "A Dream of a Thousand Cats" dabbles in one of the series' most fundamental themes - the impermanence of reality and the unifying power of shared stories. Melissanthi Mahut also shines as Calliope, with a certain defiance that shines through even as her character is tormented over the course of several years. Mahut is at her best near the end, as she's freed from her decades of bondage and reminisces about her tragic history with Morpheus (which we'll hopefully see firsthand in a future season). Thankfully, this segment Madoc's repeated rape of Calliope as delicately as possible, implying rather than lingering on the act itself. All of this speaks to the show's appeal as an adaptation. It's not that different from the comic, but it generally knows when it needs to alter the formula and make adjustments for a more contemporary audience.
3 out of 6 found this helpful.
Was this review helpful? Sign in to vote.
Permalink
