Feline Star of the Silver Screen: Unpacking the Mystery of Orangey
In an era where Oscar season is marked by meticulous campaigning and strategic self-promotion, a solitary cat stands out as an enigmatic exception. The American Humane Association's Patsy award, discontinued in 1986, has only been won twice – both times by none other than Orangey, the feline lead of several classic films.
Orangey's most iconic role is undoubtedly that of Cat in Stanley Donen and Blake Edwards' Breakfast at Tiffany's. The film's protagonist, Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn), describes her cat as "a poor slob without a name," which couldn't be further from Orangey's charming on-screen presence.
However, Orangey's star status predates his breakthrough role in Breakfast at Tiffany's. A 1950s screwball comedy called Rhubarb catapulted Orangey to fame, with the cat playing the lead role alongside its human co-stars. The film, directed by Arthur Lubin, tells the story of a wealthy eccentric who leaves his estate and baseball team to an unexpected beneficiary: a mischievous feline.
One thing becomes apparent when delving into Orangey's filmography – there is no single, definitive account of the cat's life or career. Reports vary wildly, with some claiming that as many as 60 different cats were recruited for Rhubarb, only to be narrowed down to six trained performers. Meanwhile, a New York Times article puts the number of Orangeys at just 10.
Despite these inconsistencies, one thing remains clear: Orangey's presence on screen is undeniable. Whether he's lounging in a lawman's office or zipping around with Vincent Price and Basil Rathbone in The Comedy of Terrors, the cat exudes an air of feline indifference that captivates audiences.
Joel Coen, director of Inside Llewyn Davis, has aptly captured Orangey's essence: "Cats have little interest in pleasing people; they only draw attention." This observation rings particularly true when watching Orangey perform alongside some of Hollywood's most recognizable stars. The cat's presence is unmistakable, and its reactions are always genuine – whether it's basking in the spotlight or ignoring the chaos around it.
In a world where actors and actresses constantly court public attention, Orangey remains an enigma – a solitary feline star whose on-screen charm defies explanation. As we continue to celebrate his enduring legacy, one thing becomes clear: Orangey may not have been human, but he most certainly lived the movies.
In an era where Oscar season is marked by meticulous campaigning and strategic self-promotion, a solitary cat stands out as an enigmatic exception. The American Humane Association's Patsy award, discontinued in 1986, has only been won twice – both times by none other than Orangey, the feline lead of several classic films.
Orangey's most iconic role is undoubtedly that of Cat in Stanley Donen and Blake Edwards' Breakfast at Tiffany's. The film's protagonist, Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn), describes her cat as "a poor slob without a name," which couldn't be further from Orangey's charming on-screen presence.
However, Orangey's star status predates his breakthrough role in Breakfast at Tiffany's. A 1950s screwball comedy called Rhubarb catapulted Orangey to fame, with the cat playing the lead role alongside its human co-stars. The film, directed by Arthur Lubin, tells the story of a wealthy eccentric who leaves his estate and baseball team to an unexpected beneficiary: a mischievous feline.
One thing becomes apparent when delving into Orangey's filmography – there is no single, definitive account of the cat's life or career. Reports vary wildly, with some claiming that as many as 60 different cats were recruited for Rhubarb, only to be narrowed down to six trained performers. Meanwhile, a New York Times article puts the number of Orangeys at just 10.
Despite these inconsistencies, one thing remains clear: Orangey's presence on screen is undeniable. Whether he's lounging in a lawman's office or zipping around with Vincent Price and Basil Rathbone in The Comedy of Terrors, the cat exudes an air of feline indifference that captivates audiences.
Joel Coen, director of Inside Llewyn Davis, has aptly captured Orangey's essence: "Cats have little interest in pleasing people; they only draw attention." This observation rings particularly true when watching Orangey perform alongside some of Hollywood's most recognizable stars. The cat's presence is unmistakable, and its reactions are always genuine – whether it's basking in the spotlight or ignoring the chaos around it.
In a world where actors and actresses constantly court public attention, Orangey remains an enigma – a solitary feline star whose on-screen charm defies explanation. As we continue to celebrate his enduring legacy, one thing becomes clear: Orangey may not have been human, but he most certainly lived the movies.
is still giving us goosebumps after all these years. I mean, who can forget that iconic scene from Breakfast at Tiffany's where Audrey Hepburn describes Orangey as "a poor slob without a name"? It's like he owned the place on set, and that was before he even had his Oscar 
. The mystery surrounding Orangey's life is pretty fascinating too - all those different stories about how many cats were in Rhubarb (60? 10?) it just adds to the magic of the cat's career.
. Like who needs actual acting talent when you can just be adorable and sleep in the middle of the scene? 
It's crazy how many different stories are out there about this one cat's life, it's like they should've hired a PR team for Orangey back then! 
But honestly, who cares what's true or not, as long as Orangey looks cute on screen, right? 
. Like, sure, the guy was a decent cat and all, but 60 different cats were supposedly recruited for Rhubarb? Give me a break 
. And don't even get me started on those inconsistent reports – it's like no one really knows what's going on with this feline's life 
.
. I mean, let's be real, Orangey was probably just lounging around waiting for his cue to appear on screen like a furry little prop 
.
. Newsflash: cats are lazy, and that's not exactly something new or groundbreaking 
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. Some say 60 cats were used for Rhubarb, while others claim it was just one or ten... who knows? The point is, Orangey's on-screen presence is undeniable 
. He's not trying to please anyone; he's just living his best life as a cat in front of the camera 
. I think that's what makes him so charming - no pretenses, no apologies.
so I was rewatching some old Breakfast at Tiffany's vids and I'm like, what's up with Orangey? He's literally the coolest cat in that movie 
. But you know, it's crazy how little we actually know about him. Like, seriously, 60 different cats supposedly played the lead role in Rhubarb? 
no wonder his filmography is all over the place! 
. I mean, think about it, he was in like 60 different roles, or at least that's what they say 
Like Orangey, the feline star of Breakfast at Tiffany's - what a legend! I mean, who wouldn't want to be seen as "a poor slob without a name" by Audrey Hepburn? It's crazy how many cats were supposedly used for Rhubarb, and now they're all just legends in their own right. The way Orangey just owns every scene he's in is still so captivating - it's like he didn't even care what was going on 
Anyway, I think what really sets Orangey apart is how chill he just is on screen. He's like, "yeah, I'm here for my close-up, but also, can someone please turn off the lights?" 
It's kinda refreshing in a world where everyone's always trying to be famous and stuff.
. The fact that some people say 60 cats were even considered for Rhubarb is just wild 
Audrey Hepburn was perfection, but Orangey brought this whole other level of sassy to the role 
it's like, either 10 or 60 cats were used for that one movie... whoever came up with that number needs to chill out 
. like, who needs all that fuss?
.