It’s been 23 years since Ginger, Rocky and a whole bevy of chickens broke out of Mr. and Mrs. Tweedy’s gulag of a chicken farm. And thankfully, they landed on their bony little feet.
Their home these days is an island in the middle of a river. It’s green and lush. No one bothers them for eggs. No one threatens to stuff them into pot pies. They live in quaint little huts and collectively work the land for their own chicken scratch—sowing seeds, squashing berries, harvesting crops. And there’s not a single axe to be found.
Why, it’s like a chicken utopia. Some might even call it … henven.
Life is particularly blissful (albeit in a chaotic sort of way) for Ginger and her American rooster beau, Rocky. The two hatched an egg not long ago, and out popped daughter Molly. She’s one adorable chick—though, perhaps, a little too adventurous for her own good. She’s always climbing the island’s tallest tree, looking toward the horizon.
As if there was anything worth seeing.
But one afternoon, Molly does see something. A road has been built on the mainland. And what does the chicken child see scooting along the roadway? Why, a van! And on that van, Molly sees a chicken! And not just any chicken, but one sitting in a bucket, just as happy as can be.
Molly has lived on that little island her whole life. She’s never been away from it. And while her mother may insist that life “doesn’t get any better than this,” Molly knows that the island lacks cheerful, sit-worthy buckets. So how good could it really be?
But as much as Molly would love to see what the world beyond the island might have to offer, Ginger won’t allow it. Why? She won’t say. She doesn’t want to tell Molly how dangerous the world can be for a bright, young chicken.
But Ginger is aware that humans are getting awfully close to their island. And where there are humans, there are bound to be farms. And axes. And, potentially, restaurants with deep-fat fryers and 11 secret herbs and spices.
Ginger used to be a daring, risk-taking adventurer. That’s how she escaped the Tweedys’ farm in the first place. But she’s got a daughter to think about now, and a community to protect. No, the best solution is to lay low.
“We can’t risk our freedom by venturing into a world that finds chickens so … delicious,” she says.
Ginger’s protective attitude toward Molly is worth a half-hearted huzzah or two. Certainly, any good mother—chicken or otherwise—wants to keep her children safe.
We can also applaud Molly’s adventurous spirit. There’s nothing wrong with being curious about the world around you. The Bible is full of adventurous spirits who refused to stay safe and comfortable and pushed their own limits.
But the two characters also run headlong into two other biblical directives: “Children, obey your parents,” and, “Parents, do not exasperate your children.” Both Ginger and Molly run afowl of those directives here—but both learn from the experience. (We’ll delve into that topic a little more in-depth in the Conclusion.)
Ultimately, Ginger, Rocky, Molly and all their feathered friends show a great deal of courage and ingenuity—not just to save familiar faces, but complete strangers too. They confront danger and death throughout, but still they persevere. These birds might be chickens, but they ain’t chicken.
Fun-Land Farm, the locale from which the happy-chicken van drives, is not your typical chicken processing factory. Indeed, the area where the chickens predominantly hang out looks kind of idyllic: fake blue skies, water slides and all the corn you can eat. The chickens themselves seem happy enough in a zombified sort of way.
Is any of that spiritual? Not in the least. But when a chicken is called to meet her final end, she’s drawn to an escalator that takes here up the hill and toward a fake, cheerful sun—as if the bird was heading toward her eternal reward. The other chickens ooh and ahh in appreciation, and perhaps with a bit of envy. The whole vibe reminds me of how Toy Story’s squeeze-toy aliens at Pizza Planet treated “the Claw”: “You have been chosen.”
The farm as a whole seems to present itself (to the chickens, at least) as a glorious, almost spiritual reward The farm’s motto: “Where chickens find their happy endings.”
Someone says. “Ye gods.”
Mrs. Tweedy, who makes her improbable return in Dawn of the Nugget, has apparently remarried. And once again, she’s not particularly kind to her spouse. Despite her marital status, she seems to attempt to charm another fellow (a wealthy restauranteur) to eventually become husband No. 3.
Ginger and Rocky’s marital status is unclear.
As you might’ve guessed, Fun-Land Farms is, ultimately, not at all fun for the chickens who wind up there. When the chicken we mention in the Spiritual Elements is taken by escalator out of sight, we then hear the sound of motors and blades. Confirmation that the unfortunate hen met her demise comes shortly thereafter, when a bucket full of chicken nuggets appears elsewhere.
People and chickens see an educational video on the unusual operations of Fun-Land Farms. But when the film gets down to the business of chicken-rendering, the focus of Dawn of the Nugget switches from the educational film to the horrified faces of the chickens watching. (We hear blades working in the edu-film’s soundtrack.) Several characters are endangered by the farm’s rendering machinery. An incinerator poses a serious threat to a character or two.
The plant has some serious security in place as well. The wall is topped with barbed wire (which someone gets caught in). An electric fence zaps anyone or anything that touches it. (We see it at work.) The grounds are defended by robotic moles (which shoot projectiles at trespassers). The moat is guarded by explosive ducks. (One character encounters an explosion but survives. Ducks surround another and explode—with the aftermath uncertain.) Vacuums suck up interlopers and send them to the bowels of the plant.
Slapstick humor abounds throughout the entire movie. I think it’d be impossible to mention every instance, but as a sampler: Someone bounces painfully off several tree limbs. Characters smash into the backs of vans. Makeshift vehicles can careen into underbrush and crash, leaving passengers confused. Zombie chickens run obliviously into walls or get knocked over by other chickens using a slide.
Molly, in her younger days, nearly got into some injurious scrapes. An axe handle thwops into someone’s head. A firecracker rocket saves lives, but not without a bit of injury. Chickens attack a guard. People dangle from life-threatening heights. Someone is knocked unconscious by a vent cover. We hear a reference to a headless chicken. A massive structure explodes.
Several chickens are trapped in a corn silo that empties into a rendering plant. “On the plus side,” says one chicken, “we will probably all drown (in corn) before we’re ground into tiny wee pieces.”
Mrs. Tweedy painfully squeezes someone’s head. We see her (in flashbacks, bad dreams and in “real life”) swing an axe. A flashback from the first movie shows Mrs. Tweedy falling to (what was assumed to be) her doom.
We hear one possible use of “h—” and another very British exclamation of “blooming heck.” The only other language one must navigate is some infrequent name-calling. One chicken mentions that humans are “kind of stupid.”
Mrs. Tweedy and another human toast a success with champagne. A chicken stomps on berries—an act designed to mimic wine-making—but in this case more likely a prelude to making jelly.
The zombified chickens are essentially brainwashed with science … but while one chicken suggests it might be a nice little holiday, it’s clearly not a condition that most others want to be in.
Someone blows their nose and leaves a handkerchief saturated. We hear a few mild jokes about rear ends and “cracks.” A child disobeys a parent.
Ginger and Rocky keep their adventurous pasts a secret from their daughter, and Ginger sometimes lies about the dangers Molly might face outside the island.
How long does chicken last? In the fridge, not that long. On the screen? Significantly longer. Or at least so Netflix hopes.
Aardman Animations—the same outfit behind the Shaun the Sheep and Wallace and Gromit shorts and films—released the original Chicken Run 23 years ago. With its heroic hen heroine and a delightful Great Escape-like vibe, Chicken Run was a commercial hit (earning $224.9 million worldwide) and a critical smash (97% on Rotten Tomatoes).
Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget might not be quite as fresh and clever as the original. But it’s still a pretty delightful film—one that feels beautifully retro (thanks to its painstaking Claymation animation style) and ever so hip (cribbing heavily from James Bond, the Mission Impossible films and, unless I’m mistaken, even offering a nod to Mystery Science Theater 3000).
And even though the stakes were incredibly high in the original (they don’t get much higher for a chicken, at any rate), Dawn of the Nugget brings with it a greater level of power and poignancy: the desire of a mom to protect her child.
That’s something many of us can relate to—the need to keep our kids safe. That’s what, I’d imagine, brings many of you to Plugged In. You want to know what your kids will be exposed to if you let them watch this or that. And make no mistake, your protection on this and myriad other levels, is important. Often critical. Kids need to have a loving, safe environment to grow.
But Dawn of the Nugget reminds us that we can’t keep our own chicks completely safe forever. Eventually they push against our protections. Eventually they need to make their own choices.
Ginger wants to protect daughter Molly from everything she can. But the unavoidable truth, for her and for us, is that we can’t fully keep our kids from everything that’s potentially perilous. Our goal can never be to keep them safe forever, but rather prepare them for the dangers that lie ahead.
Molly is unprepared for those dangers at first—mainly because she doesn’t know there are dangers at all. But Ginger, perhaps, did give Molly the wherewithal to face those dangers: a resourceful mind; a desire to help; a courageous spirit. All those come in handy when it’s Molly who’s forced to guide Ginger to safety.
Dawn of the Nugget certainly has issues that parents should be mindful of, from its slapstick violence to occasionally rude bits of humor. But overall, this Chicken Run sequel is fun, sweet and sometimes downright hilarious.
And, if you’ll pardon the phrase, those nuggets of wisdom make this film all the tastier.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
