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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. The Cat's Canary remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like old, weird, slightly unhinged animation, absolutely. If you prefer things that make logical sense, run the other way.
This is a Van-Buren production, which means it feels like a fever dream you’d have after eating too much cheese. It’s got that jittery, pre-code energy where anything can happen and usually does.
A cat in a bowler hat hangs out in a meadow—which looks suspiciously like a vacant lot in New Jersey—and eats a canary. Pretty standard stuff until the bird starts flying around inside his ribcage. The visuals here are bizarrely creative. Every time the cat opens his mouth to meow, actual musical notes float out into the air.
He goes to see a doctor named Shultz. The doctor tries to read the cat’s tongue, which is honestly a bold diagnostic choice. Then, he pulls out an X-ray machine that looks like it belongs in a dungeon. The moment the saw comes out, the cat realizes he’s had enough. Smart move.
The cat heads back to his alley, which looks like a post-apocalyptic version of the Bronx. It’s gritty, dark, and filled with cats who love to sing. It reminds me a bit of the musical chaos in Minnie the Moocher, though with way more fur.
The alley cats start skat-singing on a fence. It’s surprisingly catchy for a cartoon from this era. Of course, the neighbors don't like it. One bass-playing cat hits a note so low it probably rattled the windows in the theater back in the day. 🐱
The ending is a total team-up. The woodland birds decide they've had enough of the bullying and organize a rescue mission. It’s chaotic and frantic, much like the energy you see in The Fireman.
It’s a short watch. If you’ve got five minutes and want to see a cat deal with some internal avian issues, you won't find a better way to spend it.