When the clumsy Farmer (John Sparkes) ruins the pumpkin patch, Shaun (Justin Fletcher) experiments to rescue the crop — accidentally creating a monster.
Who or what is Britain’s greatest cultural export? Is it James Bond? Doctor Who? MoneySavingExpert’s Martin Lewis? There is an extremely strong case to be made that it is, in fact, Shaun The Sheep, the claymation lamb with a heart of gold, whose silent-movie-esque antics, dialogue-free save for bleats and grunts, have made him a hero in over 170 countries, his family-friendly slapstick humour crossing borders worldwide.
So it goes with this, the third Shaun big-screen outing, a continuation of a media empire that began with a supporting role in the 1995 Wallace and Gromit short A Close Shave and has since spawned films, TV shows, spin-offs, and a very lucrative line of merchandise (Shaun The Sheep-branded body spray, yours for just £34.99). Where the first film was the franchise’s take on Babe: Pig In The City, and the second, 2019’s Farmageddon, a cute alien-invasion sci-fi pastiche, The Beast Of Mossy Bottom leans more into the horror side, as Aardman Animation, with its love of old-school B-movies (see also: Wallace & Gromit: The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit), is wont to do.
The commitment to silliness is genuinely admirable.
Think Frankenstein crossed with The Wolf Man, only with Plasticine farmyard animals, and you’re not far off. Here, Shaun (voiced, as ever, by Mr Tumble himself, Justin Fletcher) and his loyal flock are Halloween-obsessed and desperate to make Jack O’Lanterns worthy of the season. When a freak accident knocks out their crop of prize pumpkins, Shaun turns to mad science — aptly adopting a mad scientist get-up in the process — and, via a hilarious turn of events, accidentally transforms his beloved if ungainly Farmer (John Sparkes) into a Bigfoot-like monster who terrorises the local village.
It’s a classic lark. The commitment to silliness is genuinely admirable, and while this is defiantly precision-engineered for young children, as all Shaun outings are — the now-standard pop-music montage will have kids dancing in the aisles — there is plenty for adults to lap up. Expect just as many jokes that might fly over children’s heads (spot the sly references to Hitchcock and Hammer) as there are all-ages gags (pigs playing Jenga is funny, however old you are).
What is most impressive, though, is how Aardman’s stop-motion care and craft remains as sharp as ever. This is directed by Steve Cox and Matthew Walker in their feature debuts, but feels as warm and witty as any Wallace & Gromit or Chicken Run. For 50 years now, Aardman has been making animated magic from the suburbs of Bristol, and its most lovable mascot confirms the studio is still in rude health.
Daft and delightful, as all Shaun The Sheep escapades are. This is what properly good kids’ entertainment looks like.