Who’d have thought 2026 would give us not just one, but two sheep-centric thrillers? Following up The Sheep Detective, Aardman Animations revisits its beloved mischievous ewe in Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom, a Halloween adventure that delightfully skews the Frankenstein formula for the G-rated demographic. The results are charming, but compared to The Sheep Detective’s unexpectedly mature storytelling, The Beast of Mossy Bottom can’t help but feel merely passable within the Aardman pantheon.

Getting into innocent trouble has been Shaun’s MO since his “Wallace and Gromit” debut, and that remains true across the sheep’s myriad shorts and feature films. The holiday season is no different. It’s nearly Halloween, and everyone on the farm is preparing in their own special way. Shaun (voiced by Justin Fletcher) and his flock are growing pumpkins in secret for an upcoming jack-o’-lantern display, while sheepdog Bitzer (John Sparkes) is doing chores around the farmhouse. The charmingly oblivious Farmer (also Sparkes), meanwhile, is working up the courage to ask a pretty veterinarian (Nina Sosanya) to a Halloween party, only for hijinks to prevent either from knowing the other’s true feelings. One such shenanigan results in the flock’s pumpkin patch getting destroyed, leaving little lamb Timmy (also Fletcher) devastated and Shaun intent on fixing this mess.

Being Halloween, Shaun’s solution is to consult a science book and go full Victor Frankenstein, inventing a growth formula that’ll regrow the pumpkins overnight. However, putting the formula in the Farmer’s old hair growth bottle has severe consequences when Bitzer finds and returns the bottle to the Farmer, already self-conscious about his balding head. Without spoiling too much—however obviously the film sets it up—this results in a giant, hairy creature roaming about the farm and nearby town, frightening animals and human residents alike. So, it’s up to Shaun, Bitzer, and the flock to save the day, a mission that involves gadgets, slapstick screwups, and crazy mad scientist solutions.

Aardman has certainly experimented with G-rated horror before, but The Beast of Mossy Bottom is no Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. This film skews slightly younger and is not interested in openly scaring its audience nor even creating a big mystery for the characters to solve. Instead, Aardman goes for a literal hare-brained comedy of errors that occasionally riffs on spooky season tropes or horror movie references. This is, after all, a film that opens with sheep doing the dance from the “Thriller” music video and concludes with a giant pumpkin being put to use against an angry mob.

This more kid-friendly tone doesn’t stop The Beast of Mossy Bottom from being entertaining or funny. LAIKA aside, Aardman remains the best stop-motion studio in the business and its wry British humor remains endearing in this dialogue-free adventure, with characters emoting via baas, growls, and human gibberish. Much of the comedy comes from clever visual gags and slapstick moments. There are movie parodies (a shower scene paying homage to Psycho) and adult jokes that fly over the kids’ heads (Bitzer struggling to understand a complicated parking sign), but it’s enough to entertain the family for an afternoon.

It’s a shame that, for all its charm, the movie doesn’t go bolder with its gimmicks. Although there are some touching moments sprinkled throughout, like the Farmer and the vet genuinely being into each other, one still senses that directors Steve Cox and Matthew Walker are more interested in the gags than the emotion underneath. Aside from a quick 2D animated sequence, The Beast of Mossy Bottom doesn’t pull off as many crazy swings as one would hope, and even its humor delivers more chuckles than shrieks of laughter. Compared to other Aardman productions or even past “Shaun the Sheep” films, this one seems content to just be serviceable. As a Halloween film, there’s enough wholesome, spooky charm for some Gen Alpha viewers to deem Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom a classic in time. Plus, being Aardman, you can’t help but remain impressed with how much creativity this studio puts into an animated package, right down to the complexities of Shaun’s Rube Goldberg–inspired traps that would make Wallace proud. Yet, having seen this studio attempt a similar atmosphere more than 20 years ago, this entry could have used a bit more mad scientist experimentation.