Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom

Movie Review

Dear friends. Do you know someone who has suffered from hair loss?

I know, I know. It’s not a pleasant topic. When one has a full head of hair, one feels youthful! Vibrant! Confident! And without it? Well, men, without it, you might as well consign yourself to a lifetime of emptiness and mockery. Studies show that for every hair a man finds in his drain, that man is 63% more likely to lose his job, his keys and his self-respect.

But friends, there is hope.

Take the example of a quiet farmer near the hamlet of Mossingham, England.

He remembers the days he had glorious, flowing hair—when he could hide it under a massive cowboy hat and dance up a storm at a local Western hoedown. But then, his hair left him. Where did it go? We cannot say. Perhaps his hair enjoyed those Western hoedowns so much that every follicle emigrated to Texas—but no matter. It was gone, and our farmer was fresh out of Hair-Grow tonic.

Thankfully, an intrepid sheep named Shaun was, at that very moment, struggling with how to restock his de-bleated—er, I mean, depleted pumpkin field. He and his wooly friends had hoped to carve jack-o’-lanterns, but a mishap crushed their pumpkins and their dreams. Now, with Halloween just a few scant days away, Shaun and his pals needed to grow a new grove of gourds, pronto.

The answer: science.

Shaun found a tossed-aside science book and went to work, concocting the greatest, glowing-est quick-grow formula a sheep has ever made. And when it came time to collect the stuff, he found a discarded, mostly empty Hair-Grow bottle.

Naturally, Shaun did not keep the excess formula on his fluffy person. Instead, the bottle fell into the hands of the farm’s conscientious sheepdog, who dutifully gave it to his hair-challenged master.

And yes, friends, the formula worked! It worked amazingly well! Astoundingly well! Alarmingly well! Soon the citizens of Mossingham were marveling at the farmer’s head of hair. Also at his arms, and legs, and back, and every other surface of hair, too! The transformation was so complete and so startling that, friends, they did not even recognize him—quite literally. And so they chased him hither and yon, carrying a variety of sharp implements. (We can only assume that they wished to know his secret.)

Yes, this encouraging new hair-growth formula worked for the farmer. And it can work for you, too! All you need to do is contact Shaun the Sheep (if you can find him) and ask him and his flock to whip you up a batch. And you can get it now for the low, low price of absolutely free! Because sheep don’t need money!

But be mindful: We cannot be held responsible for any broken razors, clogged drains and/or angry mobs that your newfound hair growth may trigger.

Positive Elements

OK, so the farmer’s new mop of hair proved to be, er, less than ideal. Indeed, the movie may hold a cautionary lesson for those who think that a cosmetic change—no matter how drastic—can make someone’s life better. But in trying to correct Shaun’s mistake, the sheep finds a bevy of willing helpmates.

The farmer’s sheepdog, Bitzer, is truly the man’s best friend. He unintentionally sets the story in motion by giving the farmer the hair tonic, but he does so with the best of motives. When he believes that his owner has been taken by a terrifying beast, he masters his own fears to try to save him. And when Bitzer thinks the beast has eaten his owner—well, the poor pooch is nearly inconsolable. This is a dog that knows the meaning of devotion.

Speaking of which, we meet a veterinarian (who, like the farmer, never gives a name) who’s devoted to the creatures in her care. Not that the creatures care for her: Indeed, as far as the barnyard’s animals are concerned, she, not the movie’s titled beast, may be the farm’s most terrifying visitor. But she enthusiastically cares for their maladies and stuffs them full of healthy concoctions. And when she runs into a variety of sea creatures needing help, she helps them—even though she’s in a hurry to help elsewhere.

As for Shaun, the tup makes his share of mistakes here. But eventually, he realizes that science is not the answer for every problem; it must be used wisely and carefully. His flock of friends help him see that reality, even as they remain supportive throughout. There is no “I” in “team,” but there are plenty of ewes. And rams. And the occasional lamb.

Spiritual Elements

Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom is, explicitly, a Halloween-themed story. The farmer desperately would love to ask the veterinarian out for Mossingham’s annual Halloween Hoedown, and the town itself is decked out for the holiday. A store’s window display includes depictions of Dracula, a shambling mummy and something that appears to be the Grim Reaper, while a shelf behind is stacked with stereotypically pointy witch hats. A statue at the center of Mossingham has been covered in a sheet so that it can “dress up” as a ghost.

We see plenty of other visual references to various spooky (and spiritually tinged) beings, including ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches and zombies. (And those references also include a couple of nods to Michael Jackson’s famous “Thriller” video and winks toward a number of not-so-family-friendly horror flicks.) But while the film is filled with such imagery, there’s no suggestion that anything in the story at all is ghostly or occultic. (That said, we do see a sheep on a flying broom during the closing credits.)

When the farmer wakes up and finds that his hair has grown back, we hear a snippet of Handel’s famous “Hallelujah” chorus. The vet leafs through a book of mythical creatures (called “Book of Mythical Creatures”), and we see pages dedicated to several cryptids.

Sexual & Romantic Content

In an effort to find his master, Bitzer sniffs one of the farmer’s socks and, in so doing, conjures a naked, foul-smelling version of the farmer himself. We don’t see anything critical: The green spectral smell entity is rather smoky and indistinct.

The movie makes a gag of the farmer’s preferred style of underwear, too. We see the guy in red brief-style undergarments (and nothing else), and another pair is found in a cave. He quickly hides a pair of leopard-print briefs from the vet before she sees them. The farmer is sometimes seen shirtless or with his belly comically exposed.

A chaotic scene features a crushed cake—ordered for a same-sex wedding for two would-be brides. These two women, in their bridal gowns, crop up here and there throughout the rest of the film.

The title beast is covered in hair, and it seems that he has shorn most of his clothes throughout the run of the movie. You could read the movie’s title as a bit of a sly reference to someone’s posterior.

Violent Content

Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom contains scads of slapstick humor. Characters step on rakes (and thwack their heads), trip over low garden walls, fall off speeding vehicles and take repeated tumbles and stumbles in a pumpkin patch. The beast tries to rip off his hair with several strips of duct tape, and his howl echoes throughout the region. A character is dragged through all manner of farmyard obstacles, smashing against many of them as if he was a pinball.

Someone breaks through a window to escape. A ball of sheep knocks a man into a strip of drying cement. A bird punctures an air-filled boat; the escaping air jettisons the bird rearward and sends the boat flying forward. Bitzer imagines his master being hauled into the forest by a massive beast and, later, conjures up an image of the beast licking his chops as his master’s unconsumed clothes lay about a cave floor. A trap snares several sheep. A giant pumpkin appears to devour a character.

Mossingham residents tote around a number of plastic or blow-up “weapons” (a nod to pitchfork-wielding mobs in old monster movies). Someone appears to suffer a wound from a meat cleaver—though the cleaver in question is quickly revealed to be fake. Barnyard buildings suffer a lot of damage. A dog drives unsafely, despite his best intentions. A lamp post lands on a car. Syringes full of tranquilizers hit a couple of people, knocking them unconscious. A character is threatened by a staple gun. In what may be a nod to bloody slasher flicks, pumpkins are crushed and splattered.

In the movie’s opening title sequence, a man appears to have a mouth filled with blood. (In reality, it’s ketchup.) Bitzer howls like a wolf, but only because he stepped on a hair brush. A lamb really wants to use a chainsaw to carve a pumpkin. Someone steps on a number of fake eyeballs.

Crude or Profane Language

Shaun the Sheep movies and shows are famously dialogue free: Characters, both animal and human, tend to communicate through pictures and grunts. Nevertheless, The Beast of Mossy Bottom still squeezes in one nod to a misuse of God’s name, with one character texting another “OMG!”

Drug & Alcohol Content

Someone uses an alcohol shaker to mix some chemicals together.

Other Noteworthy Elements

As mentioned, Bitzer sniffs a smelly sock owned by his master to locate him. But in his first attempt, the scent renders him unconscious. (He later holds the sock out with a pole and tries to ease the odor to his nose.) A character sits on a stinky bag filled with fish guts and the like.

A motor boat has a speed setting that depicts a seasick man. (When the setting is indeed turned that high, it makes Shaun feel quite ill.) A goat feels sick after eating what appears to be an entire clothesline full of laundry. (The veterinarian reaches into the animal’s throat to pull out the line—and all the clothes.)

At first, Shaun tries to hide his culpability in turning the farmer into the “beast,” but he eventually fesses up. (Or, at least as much as a sheep that can’t talk can.)

Conclusion

Nick Park and the folks behind Aardman Animations create, honestly, some of my favorite movies to review. All their creations, from the Wallace & Gromit flicks to the Chicken Run movies to, yes, Shaun the Sheep, are invariably funny, often delightful and sometimes positively brilliant. And they can be about the cleanest fare you’ll find, proving that quality can stand well apart from questionable content.

But sometimes even the most talented of filmmakers forget this most basic and, for families, most important of lessons.

Oh, Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom is still very funny and comparatively clean. It comes with more gags a minute than even Pixar can typically manage. And many of the winks it aims at adults—clever asides to everything from Hitchcock’s Psycho to Spielberg’s Jurassic Park—feel like nice little Easter eggs, not content landmines. The whole film feels like an homage to the original Frankenstein (complete with a creepy windmill), which makes me want to watch the original again.

But for sensitive youngsters, the movie can be creepy. While anything that could be interpreted as spooky is almost immediately turned into a joke—and it’s hard to imagine anyone being too scared by the movie’s Halloween antics—that’s best for parents to decide.

But Mossy Bottom comes with other issues, too, many of them unexpected, given Aardman’s previous portfolio. A same-sex couple shows up in a few critical scenes: Their relationship is never developed, and they seem to be just another joke—two women dressed as brides. But still, that’ll be enough for many families to stay away. A wink to a misuse of God’s name and jokes predicated on underwear and body odor will be unwelcome inclusions for others.

Again, let’s not go full Vincent Price on this 80-minute Halloween film. Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom will be, for many families, a sweet, seasonal treat. But others will find unwanted tricks in this bucket. And as a consequence, this Beast may be one to consider carefully before answering the doorbell.