The many lives of Catwoman

Here’s today’s quiz: Which actress makes the better Catwoman, Michelle Pfeiffer or Halle Berry?

You, of course, may be one of those film fans who doesn’t care which one is cast, just as long as she gets strapped into spandex and leather.

But we’re talking about acting here. So … aside from their respective – and obvious – physical attributes, it’s clear that Pfeiffer and Berry boast a number of similarities. Each has enjoyed a stay atop the box office winners list, and both have been acknowledged for pulling off good performances.

Berry won a 2002 Best Actress Oscar for her role in “Monster’s Ball,” and Pfeiffer has three nominations to her credit.

Still, it’s in their respective portrayals of the Feline Felon that the two truly are sisters of the same litter.

Berry portrays the sharp-clawed character in the “Catwoman” remake that opens today. Pfeiffer donned her black-leather duds a dozen years ago to play the Princess of Plunder in Tim Burton’s second “Batman” film, “Batman Returns.”

And not only was Pfeiffer the best thing about that flawed sequel, but her performance ranks among the best she’s ever put on screen.

Which is surprising. Other than the fact that she has an intriguing kind of feral beauty, Pfeiffer doesn’t seem to be the type to play someone out of a comic book. Despite having appeared in every movie genre from “Grease 2” to “Scarface,” she has a natural sense of grace and dignity that would seem to limit her choices.

That film presence was clearly apparent in the role that first earned her respect as an actress, the sultry singer in 1989’s “The Fabulous Baker Boys.”

Since then, Pfeiffer’s been embarrassing (“Frankie and Johnny,” 1991, in which she was cast as, what, a waitress?) and excellent as someone with a heart colder than Christmas in Cut Bank (“White Oleander,” 2002).

Her performance as Selina Kyle/Catwoman ranks somewhere in between. As Selina, the browbeaten secretary to the criminal who has her murdered, Pfeiffer is adequate (mainly because it’s as hard to believe her as a secretary as it is a waitress). But as Catwoman, she’s dangerous, alluring and as capable of bewitching Batman as she is hurting him.

In other words, she’s the comic-book equivalent of Eve.

Yet she gives her character the one thing that most superpower characters lack: a self-aware sense of humor. And unlike Jack Nicholson, who in the first “Batman,” overplays the Joker as if he were auditioning for, well, “Grease 2,” Pfeiffer strikes just the right tone.

She meows screenwriter Daniel Waters’ dialogue as if she were mouthing creamy caramel instead of mere words.

“I am Catwoman,” she purrs. “Hear me roar.”

“You’re catnip to a girl like me,” she tells Batman. “Handsome, dazed, and to die for.”

And when Batman’s enemies start planning his demise, she says, “I want in. The thought of busting Batman makes me feel all … dirty. I think I’ll give myself a bath right here.”

And then she starts to lick herself.

If you go back and look into Catwoman’s origins, she didn’t start off as a prickly sex object. She was known only as the Cat when she first appeared in the spring of 1940. And she didn’t rate a special costume.

Yet Batman was so taken with her that, despite the fact that she was a thief, he didn’t take her to jail.

You know how things go, though. Sex sells. And that’s been as true in the comics as it ever has been in the movies. Pretty soon, Catwoman was a Gotham City supermodel, complete with cape, stiletto-heel boots, cute little kitty ears and, on occasion, a cat-o’-nine-tails.

By the time DC Comics gave her a monthly spread of her own in August 1993, Catwoman was “wearing” a costume that looked as if it were painted on a body with more curves than the North Cascades Highway.

Which is where Berry comes in. Pfeiffer encased herself in black leather, but Berry has never been camera shy.

If you can’t wait for the movie, go online and check out what passes for her costume. You’ll notice that it shows more skin than a sunscreen commercial.

Getting back to acting, the question is whether she can meow with the right amount of meanness.

Quick show of hands now.

Who cares? Really.