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5.9/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Pardon My Pups remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, only if you’re a completist for old short films or you just need something incredibly low-stakes to play in the background while you fold laundry. If you hate slow, stagey setups or children acting like they’re in a play that’s three miles away from the audience, steer clear. It’s a relic, plain and simple. 🐶
There’s this moment early on where Sonny is just absolutely crushed about the dog. It’s played for laughs, but he’s really selling the misery. You can tell he’d rather be literally anywhere else than holding that leash.
The whole thing feels a bit like a dusty theater production. It reminds me a little bit of the energy in Home Talent, where everyone is trying to hit their marks with a bit too much gusto. It doesn’t have the polish of later stuff, but that’s kind of the charm, right?
Queenie the Dog has more natural charisma than half the cast. There’s a specific scene where the dog does something entirely unscripted—or at least it feels that way—and the actors scramble to react. It’s the best part of the whole thing.
It’s not trying to be a masterpiece, and thank goodness for that. If they tried to make this some heavy-handed drama about responsibility, I would’ve walked away. Instead, it’s just a weird little time capsule of people trying to make a movie about a bike and a pup.
Compared to something like The Aggravatin' Kid, this feels way more domestic and polite. It lacks that sharp edge. It’s basically cinematic comfort food for people who like black and white film grain and Shirley Temple’s curls.
Whatever. It’s over before you can even get annoyed by the plot. That's a win in my book. 🤷♂️