More often than not, animators who work in mainstream studios like Disney, Pixar or Dreamworks will make their own personal projects on the side from their day jobs, like Andreas Deja's Mushka or Andrew Coats' Borrowed Time. So back in 1979, the year Don Bluth and his team left Disney for good to pursue their own work, the first project they completed was a short film they had made on the side from the Mouse House called Banjo the Woodpile Cat. The best way to describe this film is a simple albeit noble effort from a group of passionate animators who were only learning the steps of filmmaking as they went along.
The story focuses on a rebellious kitten named Banjo, who after getting into trouble, decides to run away from his woodpile home in his owners' farm in Payson, Utah by catching a truck to Salt Lake City. Admittedly, the story is very straight forward, and while it does have a few dangerous obstacles and Banjo's encounter with a charming hipster cat named Crazy Legs, there aren't many surprises and the overall goal makes the film rather predictable as a result. It doesn't help that the film doesn't take time to let Banjo develop as a troublesome rascal who learned responsibility properly and the ending has little to offer in return. That being said, one can forgive Bluth and his crew as narrative was only something they were just starting to grasp on, and at least the film offers some entertainment value to keep the momentum going, like Banjo's city antics and his growing friendship wth Crazy Legs. One call tell how eager Crazy is to help out poor Banjo through kindness in spite of his poor lifestyle, and their time together truly feels like a growing relationship of felines who stick together through thick and thin.
Now in terms of technicalities, this film was actually made in Don Bluth's garage, yet the visuals look as remarkable as anything Disney would have made then. In addition to the usual fluid and overly expressive character animation common in Bluth's films, noteworthy techniques like backlit shadows, snow and rain, and effective lighting are used to their full potential. The backgrounds are also a nice touch, as they help display rich atmosphere with their color palettes and details, such as the mundane Utah farmland and the lively albeit gloomy presence of Salt Lake City. It's always admirable to see animators embrace their craft in their own free time, because it can lead to more fascinating results than what they would have made at major studios. Lastly, the few musical numbers that appear either narrate Banjo's presence or provide wholesome fun, although one could argue they could have been removed to save on time. Plus, it's a better idea to have a narrator only detail a character's arc, not describe a scenario that's already happening so the audience can fill in the blanks themselves.
So in spite of his shortcomings, Banjo the Woodpile Cat is still an intriguing look into Don Bluth's early filmography. As this was the short film that kickstarted Bluth's career as a somewhat revolutionary animation director, it serves as a charming starter for those who are yet to discover his works. It really goes to show you how much a simple short film made in someone's house can lead to a promising albeit complicated future in any medium, be it filmmaking or computer science. Whoever the next underground genius will be is only an inch away from growing a huge status.
