“Shaun the Sheep”: It Seems Impossible But I Guess It Isn’t

by Ebun Lawore, Bad Habits Editor

Illustration by Kaya Perelman, Contributor

On one fateful day in 1995, during the showing of an episode of Wallace & Gromit titled A Close Shave, Shaun the Sheep was shown to the world for the very first time. This character was so beloved that it drove Aardman Animations to give the character his own spinoff series, and then later, three full length feature films, their latest being Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of the Mossy Bottom.

Even though Shaun has only been a character on our screens for 30 years, Aardman’s legacy of making meticulous, hilarious, and meaningful stop-motion animation began as early as 1972, with the creation of their very first character Aardman, an ordinary superhero they created for a commercial. Aardman is now known for beloved movies and shows such as Chicken Run, Wallace & Gromit, and, of course, Shaun the Sheep. Through this studio’s renowned filmography, they have proven to be masters of emotional storytelling, simplistic yet relatable humor, excellent stop-motion clay-mation, and a strong narrative within the absence of words. In Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of the Mossy Bottom, their mastery stands tall.

Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of the Mossy Bottom tells the initially mundane story of Shaun and his group of sheep, who have a dream of harvesting and carving out beautiful pumpkins that come from their secret pumpkin patch, without the knowledge of their farmer. The farmer is distracted by his own desires to court the animal’s veterinarian, even though he appears to be self-conscious about his lack of hair. It is incredible how the makers of this film, within what seems like a second, get you to care about something as simple as a few pumpkins and a balding farmer, especially without the use of dialogue. The light in Timmy the Lamb’s eyes make the patch of pumpkins seem like a heap of gold, and the Farmer and the Vet’s longing murmurs for one another’s attention make you sat for the development of their relationship. 

It is also incredible how within this silence the plot of this movie still manages to get hella complicated, yet it is still easy to understand and remain sat. Spoiler warning—the Farmer accidentally destroys the pumpkin patch, Shaun has an evil scientist arc in order to restore it, the Farmer turns into a bigfoot resembling monster, the town tries to kill him, the Vet, unknowing of his true identity, ships him to Bigfoot Island, they all finally rescue him and turn him back, you get the idea. But in all of it you as a viewer are never confused even though no one says a single word. Aardman does what they do best: maintaining the viewers’ understanding through facial expressions, lighting, cinematography, and body language. With the tears in Timmy the Lamb’s eyes, the Farmer’s cries for help, the dark cast over the rioting townspeople, and the never-ending compassionate actions of the Vet towards animals, they make you feel like a part of the story without ever explaining themselves to you. 

Another feat of Aardman is the humor that still permeates within this complex storyline. Even in dramatic moments such as the fearful entrance of Bigfoot Farmer into the farm with all the animals, they still remember to make you laugh with the eerie creaking sound of sheep flossing its teeth, or the cow-shaped cavity left in the barn by a cow that was running for dear life. The humor is easy to understand for the children viewing the movie, but still manages to make adults laugh just through its ridiculousness. You almost feel really stupid laughing at the walking all over the wet cement gag that happens twice in the movie, but then you remember that people do it all the time because it’s funny.

Aardman is so good at keeping people entertained while limiting its dialogue, that you almost want them to be violently committed to it. Moments like “conversations” between the Vet and the Farmer where they begin to rely more heavily on the unintelligible sounds that come out of the characters mouths feel like moments of weakness, but they quickly redeem themselves with the giant monster/car/sheep herd chase scene and the monster/townspeople/sheep herd chase scene that they are able to pull off within their limits. The scene they are able to pull off through the tediousness of the stop motion is a feat that is so obviously incredible that it almost feels like I don’t have to say it. Nick Park, the creator of Shaun the Sheep, has said in interviews that it’s amazing if the team is able to film even one minute of footage in one week of work. How they are able to make a 91-minute film when they constantly have to remold and move a character’s finger one inch and then stop to take a photo is something that I will never be able to understand.

Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of the Mossy Bottom honestly shouldn’t be able to exist. It seems almost superhuman that it does, or that, frankly, any piece of Aardman media does. It really is incredible what you can create with a bunch of balls of plasticine clay.

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