5.7/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 5.7/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. When the Cat's Away remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have seven minutes and a weird fondness for vintage animation, sure. It is for the people who find comfort in the jerky, old-school movements of 1930s cartoons. If you need a coherent plot or, I don't know, a reason to care about a mouse couple's domestic life, you are probably going to hate this.
It starts exactly how you expect. The owners leave, and the floorboards immediately become a dance floor. I spent most of the runtime just staring at the sheer number of mice filling the frame. It feels like a high-stakes grocery store raid. 🐭
There is this one moment where a roach just starts wiggling around that felt oddly specific. Why is the roach the best dancer? I do not know. It just is.
Then the villain shows up. A rat, obviously. He has this look on his face like he’s really enjoying the intimidation factor, which is honestly a bit much for a kitchen. It reminded me of the tension in The Black Cat, though obviously with a lot more fur and way fewer existential dread vibes.
The pacing is all over the place. It’s mostly just mouse-bop-music and frantic running until the cat finally enters the chat. The cat’s arrival isn't even really dramatic; it’s just inevitable. The whole thing stops dead the second those eyes appear.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely a story. But there is something about the way the animation wobbles that makes it feel alive in a way that modern, smooth stuff never quite gets. 🐈