Soothing news for pet owners in the run up to bonfire night. More Than insurance, in conjunction with animal behaviourists, has created a duo of films designed for nervous cats and dogs. Peer Window and Woofering Heights are vaguely hallucinogenic films that combine the reassurance of the human voice, natural noises and a looping series of relaxing visuals. It’s a weird idea even before you factor in a voiceover by David Tennant. But do they work?

For a test screening, I’ve come to the home of Eliot and Poppy Lacey, a short-haired bengal crossbreed cat and a dog, respectively. Eliot is an imperious presence one doesn’t keep waiting, so we start with Peer Window. I struggle to focus his attention on the screen, which displays a CGI window in front of a shoal of fish. The outlook morphs into clouds, then a copse of silver birch. (The rationale behind the mise en scene is that cats spend up to 18 hours a day staring through windows. Nonetheless, I think Dial M for Miaowda would have been a stronger title. )

‘Study the banal, question the domestic’ … Eliot the bengal, not watching the pet film Peer Window. Photograph: Rhik Samadder for the Guardian

“Study the banal, question the domestic,” philosophises Tennant in a soft voice, elongating his vowels. I study Eliot. He’s ignoring the film and staring out of the real window instead. I suspect we both find the film sentimental. He’s not making shapes with the clouds or remembering a first love. He’s looking for things to murder.

After a while, he prowls off to a corner of the room to wee into a laundry basket. I’m not sure if this is down to a feral nature, or his review of the film. Either way, the Peer Window screening is over. I turn my attention to Poppy, who is chewing a shoe. I take the screen to her bed, and boot up Woofering Heights. Tennant’s voiceover is even weirder on this Brönte-esque oddity. “A gooood booooy might hope for marriage,” he intones over a slow-motion closeup of a Staffordshire bull terrier. “The daydreams of puppyhood had never quite come to pass,” he laments. Poppy and I stare at a cross-legged bitch on her back, exposing her teats. I wonder if I can get in trouble for watching this stuff.

Satie-style piano tinkles over dreamy shots of woods, moors and white malamutes. Tennant murmurs lovingly over a susurration of grasses.

I know quite a few adults who’d be up for this double bill, although the animals aren’t fussed. Poppy does seem relaxed, but she was relaxed before. And as cineastes will tell you, playing a film on a laptop is not ideal. It has a small screen and low-grade sound, not to mention that the lights in the room are on and there are people around – perhaps Poppy and Eliot’s lack of interest is cinematic snobbery?

Or maybe Poppy’s actually in the mood for an action film. I should be able to show her one. How about The Last (Good Boy) Scout, or Mad Max: Furry Road? Maybe her tastes veer toward romcoms like Pretty Woofer, the story of how a suave businessman takes a pooch off the streets and gives her the Bonio. Today’s fare has been the cruel equivalent of forced arthouse cinema – especially because everything Poppy watches is already in black and white. The More Than films may stop them feline stressed, but they don’t exercise them. If we’re going to cater to animals, we should offer them the multiplex treatment – or at least a bit more than this.