The famous feline embraces the role of a beloved tiger in a reboot of the Academy Award-winning film. Critics praised the casting, noting Buddy’s strong resemblance to Richard Parker.
LOS ANGELES — Buddy the Cat will star as the main antagonist in an upcoming remake of Life of Pi, Variety reported on Monday.
The silver tabby cat will pad into the role of Richard Parker, a Bengal tiger who finds himself sharing a small boat with a teenage boy named Pi after they survive a storm that sinks their ship.
Alone, hungry and scared, Pi and Richard Parker must learn to trust each other as they drift west with no land in sight.
In one memorable scene from the 2012 original, a gluttonous Richard Parker hoards hundreds of fish while refusing to share with Pi.
“A lot of people think Richard’s being greedy,” Buddy said, “but put yourself in his paws. You can’t get turkey out there. Pi isn’t exactly volunteering to open cans of the good stuff. It’s a cat eat fish world.”
(Above: Buddy the Cat as Richard Parker is “indistinguishable” from the original character, the movie’s casting director says.)
One of the most memorable sequences involves the duo drifting toward an island paradise under the stars as the ocean glows a bioluminiscent blue. The scene takes on a trippy quality as boy and tiger hallucinate tasty, juicy fish paddling lazily through the night air.
“As an actor, you embrace the challenge of imagining all these scrumptious, decadent fish and, you know, your stomach just rumbles,” Buddy told an interviewer.
The silver tabby said the film is helping him grow as an actor.
“When my agent sent me the script, I thought ‘Life of Pie?’ You know, I like pie. Shepherd’s pie, chicken pot pie, paella, steak and guiness pie,” he said. “So to prepare for the role, I ate a lot of pie.”
The video is thoroughly amusing, but it also illustrates profound truths about feline intelligence, showing cats understand a lot more than people often give them credit for.
I’m loving this video of a sneaky orange tabby pretending to snooze while helping himself to his human’s food.
Little dude lays down and closes his eyes, then slowly reaches a paw out to the cap of an ice cream container, which has a glob of the good stuff on it. He checks to make sure the coast is clear by opening his eyes just a tiny bit, then slowly moves the cap over incrementally, pausing at intervals to make sure he’s still unobserved. (It looks like his human set her phone to record, then left the room so her little buddy thought no eyes were on him).
Aside from being hilarious and cute, this short clip actually illustrates something profound: Cats are much more intelligent than people usually give them credit for.
Consider the fact that to pull this off, the cat needs to be self-aware, and he needs to possess theory of mind. In other words, this cat understands he and his human have different perspectives, know different things, and that if he can move stealthily and appear to innocently nap, he can get away with eating some ice cream.
That may not seem like a big deal at first, but it means the cat understands humans can be deceived, and he understands how to do it. He cannot possibly know we have technology that can record him while we’re not looking, so that’s not a strike against him. There are plenty of things we don’t understand about animals, and we’re supposed to be the more intelligent species.
To truly appreciate how profound this is, consider that human children do not fully possess theory of mind until they’re four or five years old! That’s when they begin to appreciate the fact that other people have internal thought processes and emotions — even if they can’t articulate that — and, crucially, that what a person thinks she knows may not align with reality.
Footage like this goes well beyond refuting the old, debunked claim that animals like cats are biological automatons without thoughts or feelings. It shows they are in full possession of the cognitive tools that form the basis for higher modes of thinking. Again, while some people might hear that and say “What’s the big deal?”, it destroys all arguments that animals don’t have emotions or don’t understand what’s happening to them when humans mistreat them.
It also shows that cats are at least as intelligent as young children in all the ways that matter. They cannot verbalize their thoughts and feelings, but that has no bearing on their existence. After all, no one would argue that a child doesn’t have feelings simply because he’s unable to speak.
Lastly, there’s one more important lesson here: hide your ice cream from your fluffy pals!
Did you know Buddy the Cat invented the George Foreman Grill and diffused the Cuban missile crisis? Me either!
I was looking through some of my old files the other day when I came upon this forgotten radio broadcast, which provides just a taste of Buddy’s heroics and adventures:
Of course I live with the little guy, so it’s easy to forget how accomplished he actually is. In addition to serving a term as president of the Americats, Buddy has won multiple gold medals at the Olympics, led the New York Yankees to a World Series championship, single-handedly took on the meowfia, and holds the Guinness World Record for most stylishly executed nap.
To me he’s just my Buddy, my fluffy little friend who likes to hang out, meows a lot, and enjoys purring and making biscuits while I rub his head and tell him what a cool dude he is.
Still, it’s nice to know that if I need him to take on evil robots or win a competitive eating contest, he’s got that covered too.
Vakuum, the terror of many a cat, was put on notice by Buddy’s display of astonishing bravery. If AI and robots ever try to take over the Earth, Buddy is a natural choice to lead the combined armies of cats and men to victory over the machines.
NEW YORK — Buddy the Cat was particularly pleased with himself on Thursday after he successfully scared off one of his mortal enemies by using his powerful roar.
The gray tabby cat had just finished his second Food O’Clock meal of the day and was settling down for 5th Nap when the infernal machine known as Vakuum the Disturberizer encroached upon the Buddesian domicile and began its high-pitched shriek.
While previously he’d hiss at the accursed machine and retreat to the safety of the bedroom, Buddy decided to put his paw down, sources said. It was time to make a stand.
The heroic sequence of events that led to Vakuum beating a hasty retreat.
Rising up to his full height of almost a foot, Buddy let loose a mighty, blood-curdling roar — and was shocked when Vakuum immediately stopped making its pestiferous racket.
“That machine took one look at me and decided it didn’t want a piece of this,” Buddy said, his primordial pouch jiggling as he flexed. “It helps to be a meowscular and intimidating cat, you know. We jaguars are quite ferocious when we need to be.”
A spokescat for the Yguara Nation of the Americas confirmed that while Buddy is an honorary jaguar and was bestowed the name Kinich Bajo, meaning “Tiny Sun-Eyed One,” he is not in fact an actual jaguar.
Cats have established themselves as the de facto rulers of 220 million households, where they enjoy perpetual lives of leisure and are doted on by their adoring humans. How much more successful can they be?
Dear Buddy,
There’s been a lot of talk lately among the humans about how they’ll evolve in the future, whether they’ll become more successful, and whether they’ll merge with machines! Scary!
But what about us? How will cats evolve to be more successful? Will we always have human servants?
Feline Futurist in Florida
Dear Futurist,
Do we really need to be more successful?
As a species we’ve secured our rightful place as royalty in human homes where all our needs are catered to.
We’ve become so adept at manipulating our human minions that we even know how to spur them to immediate action by embedding urgent baby-like cries in our purrs.
We figured out that humans are hardwired to respond to cries in that frequency, and once we find that manipulative sweet spot, we never forget it. We’ll push that coercive button all day and night to get what we want. There is no rest for humans until they comply with our demands.
But now we have gone beyond that significant accomplishment, essentially hijacking the humans’ species-wide consciousness by taking over the internet.
Imagine some alien archaeologist poking through the rubble of human civilization far in the future, its delight at recovering data from an ancient human server turning to utter confusion as it realizes entire zetabytes are comprised of nothing but images and videos of small, mysterious, furry creatures that seemingly do little besides eat, sleep and enjoy massages.
“Did I have it all wrong?” the confused alien might say. “Could it be that these ‘cats’ were the true power on this planet all along, and humans were in thrall to them?”
What else do we need to be successful, and to what evolutionary pressures do we need to adapt? We’re not fighting our way through hostile territory in the living room, fending off attacks en route to the kitchen where there’s only a chance for food.
Nope. It’s literally served to us on a regular schedule and whenever we screech for it. Our servants know they will never hear the end of it if they don’t meet our demands, and the best of them have learned to anticipate our desires before we have to vocalize them.
How much better can it get? We’ve managed to achieve a lifestyle in which we can perpetually live in the moment with no worries about the future, and everything taken care of for us. The humans don’t expect us to do anything in return except be cute and cuddly.
We “earn” our keep by allowing them to pet us every now and then as we lounge, until we grow weary of human affection and dismiss them with an annoyed flick of the tail or a gentle bite that says “Enough, you’ve had your 30 seconds, human!”
We break their stuff, vomit on their carpets, poop in their shoes, disturb their sleep, lay on their clean piles of laundry, ignore their boundaries, deny them their privacy, destroy their furniture, steal their cheeseburgers, force them to scoop and dispose of our waste, take over their beds, and we still act like the humans are fortunate to serve us.
We are irreproachable, imperious and untouchable, and when we’ve pushed our luck perhaps a bit too far, all we have to do is flop onto our backs, pull our little paws up beneath our chins, and squeak out a meow.
“Awww,” our humans say, their thoughts manipulated by our toxoplasma gondii mind-control superpower. “What a good boy! He’s so innocent! Of course he didn’t mean to [insert incredibly disrespectful action here], he’s an angel!”
So no, my friend. I don’t think we have to participate in the evolutionary arms race. That’s for lesser creatures whose futures are uncertain. Us? We’re winning at life without lifting a paw.
Your pal,
Buddy
“That’s right. Obey us, humans. We honor you by allowing you to serve our meals, scoop our poop, scratch our chins and buy us toys. You are so fortunate!”
Pain In The Bud 