The Cat's Out Review: A 1931 Disney Fever Dream

If you have seven minutes to kill and want to see something that feels like a bad trip from the early 30s, The Cat's Out is totally worth your time. It is perfect for anyone who likes that old-school, slightly creepy Disney vibe from before the studio got too polished and safe. If you’re looking for a deep plot or something that makes total sense, you’ll probably hate it though.

I caught this one late last night while I was scrolling through some archives. The cat in this is... well, he is kind of a jerk. He sneaks out of the house like he’s on some secret military mission, and the way his paws hit the ground has this bouncy, rhythmic quality that only 1930s animation can pull off.

The whole thing starts with him stalking a bird on top of a weathervane. The bird is just singing its heart out, totally oblivious to the predator below. When the cat finally pounces, the physics just go completely out the window. The bird flies off, but somehow it’s strong enough to pull the cat and the entire metal weathervane into the air. It’s a goofy moment that leads to a pretty nasty fall.

The Dream is Where It Gets Weird

The cat hits his head and the movie shifts from a normal backyard to a total nightmare. Everything gets big and distorted. The birds he was trying to eat are now giant, and they don't have any tail feathers because he plucked them out earlier. It’s like they’re back for revenge.

The birds have these long, skinny necks and they just stare at him with these big, judgmental eyes. It reminds me a bit of the weirdness you see in The Gold Rush, but with more feathers and less boots. There is a real sense of dread in the way the birds surround him in the dark woods.

• The trees start dancing and looking like skeletons.
• A giant spider crawls across the screen and it’s actually kind of gross for a cartoon.
• The music does a lot of the heavy lifting to make the scene feel frantic.

One reaction shot of the cat looking terrified lingers for a few seconds too long. It actually becomes kind of funny because his eyes are just vibrating in his head. You can tell the animators were having fun seeing how far they could stretch the character's face.

I noticed a small detail that I missed the first time I saw a clip of this. The fence posts in the background actually lean in, like they’re trying to get a better look at the cat’s misery. It’s a small touch, but it makes the whole environment feel alive and mean.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Cat's Out (1931) through its definitive frames.

The animation style is that classic 'rubber hose' thing where everything is stretchy. It makes the scary parts feel even more unstable. I’ve seen One Man Dog and it’s way more grounded than this fever dream. This is just pure imagination running away with itself, which I honestly prefer sometimes.

Does it hold up?

Yeah, mostly. Some of the movements are a bit jerky, especially when the cat is spinning around. It feels like the scene goes on about 10 seconds too long and you start to notice the loop in the animation. Budget reasons, I guess.

The ending happens so fast you almost miss the point. The cat wakes up and he’s just... done with birds. He scurries back inside like a coward. It doesn't try to be too moralistic or give you a big life lesson. It’s just a cat having a really, really bad night.

"The birds are naked. Why are they naked? Oh, right, the cat pulled their feathers."

It’s definitely a different vibe than something like Big Boy. That one is more about the characters, whereas this is all about the atmosphere. The black and white shading is actually great here. The different shades of grey make the night feel cold and lonely.

I think I liked this more than The Pursuing Shadow because it doesn't take itself seriously at all. It’s just pure, weird energy. Even if the cat is a bit of a menace at the start, you kind of feel for him by the end when the giant owls start hooting at him.

Anyway, check it out if you want a quick spook that doesn't require a huge time commitment. It’s only seven minutes. You’ve probably spent more time today looking for a matching sock. It’s a fun little piece of history that still feels a bit dangerous to watch in the dark.