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5.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Sittin' on a Backyard Fence remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, only if you have a soft spot for 1930s animation that feels like it was written on a dare. If you hate jazz or have any kind of headache, stay away. It’s a loud, scratchy, and very strange experience that doesn't really land anywhere.
The whole thing starts with a bunch of cats hanging out on a fence, singing their hearts out. It feels like a precursor to the kind of Amature Nite energy you see in later, better-animated shorts. But here, the rhythm is just… off. The cats move like they’re having a collective nervous breakdown.
There’s a scene where a jazz band of cats starts playing, and the music is legitimately aggressive. It’s not smooth, it’s not swingin'—it’s just loud. It reminded me of how chaotic things get in Broadway Arizona, but without the benefit of actual plot structure to hold it together.
One of the cats looks exactly like it’s about to fall off the fence every three seconds. I kept waiting for it to happen, but it never did. It just kept swaying. Tense stuff, I guess?
It’s a bit like watching Human Stuff but with whiskers. You can tell they were trying to be clever with the bull and cow advertisement in the background, but the joke drags on for way too long. It’s like the movie is trying to convince you that the billboard is a character. It isn't.
Eventually, the rival cats have to team up against a bulldog. The fight scene is just a blur of limbs and fur. It lacks the grace of something like Way for a Sailor. Still, it ends with a weird little twist that made me chuckle, even if I felt bad about it.
I don't know who this was made for, but I’m glad it’s only a few minutes long. 😺🎷