It is hard to tell whether Boffo is a mouse or a cat, but that probably reflects the fact he was inspired by Mickey and Felix, in equal measure. However, in the world of this film, he was directly “inspired by,” or ripped off from Biffo, the creation of a pioneering black animator. However, his heir probably can’t prove it without the long-lost short Heck (short for Hector) Burrows tacks down. Keeping it will be even trickier, because the company Boffo built, which bears absolutely no resemblance to Disney, will do anything to make it disappear in Nate Neal’s Treasure of the Lost Reel, premiering tonight at the 2026 Big Apple Film Festival.
Pinnacle so litigiously protects its Boffo trademark, it recently sued a daycare center over an unauthorized screening (fortunately, Disney would never do anything like that, right?). It also has gun-wielding enforcers like Mr. Fix-It on the payroll. He makes the company’s embarrassing past disappear. In two months, early Boffo cartoons will enter the public domain. That is not good for Pinnacle, but the last surviving Biffo print could undermine their fundamental trademark of Biffo.
Burrows’s ex, now a late-night TCM-esque host, hopes to find the Biffo print, to parlay it into a Pinnacle+ streaming show. Of course, she didn’t reveal her true ambitions to Bellamy Barker, the rightful Biffo heir, but Burrows immediately suspects something of the kind. As a result, it will be a mad scramble to find the lost reel and it will be even trickier holding onto it.
The vintage-style animation created by Neal and Erim “Xolo” Cetinel perfectly fuses early Disney with classic Fleischer. Biffo and Boffo look era-appropriate and they both have the appropriate pinched, high-pitched voices. The antique Boffo merch also represents a triumph of great art direction on a budget. Furthermore, filming on old school 16mm stock nicely reinforces Neal’s nostalgic aesthetic.
Neal also has an ace in his pocket in the on-screen person of prolific character thesp William Russ, who is hilarious snarling and huffing-and-puffing as the sarcastic and emphysemic Mr. Fix-It. His performance is so distinctive, he overshadows the rest of the blandly neurotic cast, to the point of replacing them as the audience’s rooting interest.
Neal’s film is not perfect, but it has an appealingly loopy spirit and an infectious love for pioneering animation. Indeed, the ragged edges are appropriate—they are even part of the fun. Recommended for fans of 1920s animation, Treasure of the Lost Reel screens tonight (5/12) as part of the Big Apple Film Festival.

