Nelvana were clearly hoping with the film to break into the burgeoning interest in adult animated sf created by the also Canadian-made Heavy Metal (1981), as well as to some extent Ralph Bakshi’s Wizards (1977) with which this shares the notion of post-holocaust mutation as an sf-rationalized explanation of how ordinary animals are able to speak. It is a beautifully animated film. This was before the whole computer animation renaissance of the 1990s when animation was still all hand-drawn frame by frame. Some of the airbrushed backgrounds quietly blow the mind away, and the attention to minutiae is stunning – when the heroine dips her hand in a pool of water her reflection ripples too, and as a car drives through the desert the backgrounds outside move in correct multi-plane depth perspective, while foreground scenery reflects off the vehicle window.

Unfortunately the film is let down by an underdeveloped script. The plot is a retread of Daniel Mouse, which in itself rehashed the classic The Devil and Daniel Webster story with animated mice and featured a diabolical record producer seducing an innocent female singer, a love-wins-out-against-all theme and a climax with the hero and heroine singing for their fate. The characters with their cutsie Hanna Barbera-simplistic voices are too vapid to be appealing. And there is an irritating number of supporting parts – the other band members and Mok’s three sidekicks – that are played as buffoons. It is a film that in terms of the artistic quality of its animation is wanting to be adult, while the characters and writing remain distinctly juvenile – the original title for the film was supposed to have been Drats, which gives some indication of the level at which it was conceived. But if one can ignore this, a real visual treat is in store from the moment the screen opens amid airbrushed clouds boiling with eldritch lightning and a thunderous wall-to-wall rock score. Yeahhh!