Bugs and Books: A dusty library trip you didn't ask for

Is this worth watching today? Only if you like the kind of animation that feels like it was dug out of a backyard time capsule. If you’re into the history of cartoons or just want something strange to stare at for a few minutes, you’ll dig it. If you need a coherent story or modern polish, stay far away.

It’s barely a movie, honestly. It’s more of a vibe, if you can call a bunch of bugs swarming books a vibe. Margie Hines is in there somewhere, but really, it’s all about the chaotic movement of these tiny, spindly critters.

There’s a moment where a beetle tries to read a book, and it’s just… oddly specific. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in Betty Boop for President, though much less political and a lot more about insects eating paper. The pacing is all over the place. One second they are hiding, the next they are throwing a party on the library desk.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Bugs and Books (1932) through its definitive frames.

The backgrounds look like they were drawn by someone who was tired of drawing lines. Everything is a little wobbly. It’s not quite as moody as The Light That Failed, but it has that same sense of being stuck in the past.

I noticed the way the insects move—it’s twitchy. Like, really twitchy. Maybe that was the style back then, but watching it now feels like you're looking at something that might crawl out of your screen. 🐜

Sometimes the film just stops. No real ending. No big lesson about reading or respecting literature. Just bugs. It’s almost refreshing how little it cares about being important.

• The librarian is suspiciously absent.
• The ants have weirdly human expressions.
• I think one of the books is just a blank rectangle.
• It lasts about as long as a sneeze.

It’s not trying to be Spies or anything remotely serious. It’s just an old, weird experiment. I liked it, even if I’m not entirely sure why.