Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not always be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
Not a single one of Earth’s creatures is spared when it comes to casting nature’s revenge on humans. Joining the ranks of other unexpected critters in horror are those docile grazers who bleat and frolic to their hearts’ content. It’s not unusual to see sheep stippling the picturesque landscapes of rural New Zealand with white — after all, they outnumber the human population by almost six to one these days. In spite of their abundance, though, those fluffy clouds with legs are less than peaceful in Jonathan King’s 2006 film Black Sheep. As a result of bad science, woollies are about to become the country’s next top predator.
Set in pastoral Wellington, Black Sheep follows the fateful reunion between two estranged brothers. A prank deeply traumatized Henry Oldfield at a young age (Nick Fenton); his brother Angus scared him with a bloodied sheep carcass seconds before they both learned their father died in an accident. Years later, a hesitant and older Henry (Nathan Meister) returns to his childhood home to sell his half of the family farm to Angus (Peter Feeney). This is when he and an animal rights activist discover Angus’ horrific experiments on the sheep. With the hazard of countless people becoming prey to the flesh-eating livestock, Henry is now forced to confront his lifelong phobia.
Among all the things New Zealand is known for — including the Lord of the Rings trilogy, manuka honey, and rugby — sheep ranks the highest on the list. This factoid was part of the inspiration behind King’s debut. Producer Philippa Campbell didn’t normally work in horror, but she couldn’t turn King down after hearing his idea. She told Fangoria in 2007, “I hadn’t any ambitions to make comedy/horror films or to start hammering New Zealand, but Jonathan’s pitch was fantastic.” She adored the idea of playing with the country’s imagery and poking fun at herself and other fellow Kiwis.
The classic theme of corporate evil getting its comeuppance is alive and well in Black Sheep. Although knowledge of akin eco-horrors like Alligator, Frogs and Piranha isn’t required, it may add context. Those aforesaid titles are just some of the movies that helped lay the subgenre’s foundation; for stories of nature rising up when humans act recklessly. In King’s take on the topic, two “greenies” get wind of the disturbing goings-on at the Oldfield farm. Angus, the face of capitalism in these parts, has done the unthinkable and created an “uber” specimen that will forever change sheep farming. Progress doesn’t come without its setbacks as a wormy experiment escapes from the lab and accidentally turns Angus’ whole flock into voracious maneaters. Add in some were-sheep and the movie brings new meaning to the old saying “A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
When it’s not spoofing creature-horror movies of yesteryear, Black Sheep fires on all cylinders as a horror-comedy. Nearly every scene is punctuated with wry or physical humor, and King doesn’t shy away from lampooning New Zealanders, either. What helps the film tremendously is it plays everything with a straight face; there is no shameless winking at the audience or breaking of the fourth wall. The characters respond to their dilemma with sincerity, and for this reason alone, the many laughs come naturally. From greenie Experience (Danielle Mason) walking into a bloody murder scene and immediately complaining about the feng shui, to Angus letting loose a deadpan “baaa-stard” as his sheepish infection worsens, the jokes are well thought out.
When asked by Meister in the commentary session who among the Oldfield boys is the movie’s de-facto namesake, King claims there are no black sheep. However, either Henry or Angus could fill the role, albeit in very different ways. The youngest is an easy candidate for the title; he was a sheep-shearing prodigy until he developed a serious case of ovinaphobia. On top of that, he’s avoided his family and their legacy. Henry may be the odd man out simply because he doesn’t adhere to tradition. Meanwhile, Angus is the more obvious prospect. Something that didn’t pan out much to the director’s regret was explaining Angus’ antipathy toward nature. The leg brace his younger self (Eli Kent) wears was meant to hint at Angus’ bitterness and how he dislikes the natural order of things in life. This loathsome attitude is why he later becomes so open to science and allows the creation of the uber sheep. It only seems reasonable Angus is his family’s most disfavored member due to his unethical ways.
In the movie’s making-of featurette, producer Campbell said turning her homeland’s national icon into something it wasn’t was challenging from all sides. These fuzzy paragons of purity wouldn’t ordinarily strike fear into the average person’s heart, but the crew swore sheep were quite terrifying when up close and personal with them. Their sheer size and brassy baas were enough to unnerve the staff when live sheep were brought in for measurements. Turning them into daunting carnivores didn’t seem too difficult a task at that point. And once it came time to make the fleeced mutants, New Zealand’s Weta Workshop outdid themselves. Prioritizing tangible effects over CGI was in the film’s best interest seeing as the hands-on approach established a genuine connection between the cast and the faux sheep. The Miramar-based special effects and props company gets top marks here; their animatronics, makeup, and prosthetics are all exceptional.
The movie is often likened to Peter Jackson’s earlier genre works such as Bad Taste and Braindead, and after watching, anyone will agree the comparison is both accurate and flattering. Having Glenis Levestam from Jackson’s zombie comedy play the matriarchal housekeeper Mrs. Mac in Black Sheep only adds to the resemblance. King also cites The Evil Dead and An American Werewolf in London as inspirations. The were-sheep’s transformation is a reference to John Landis’ lycan classic, and the visual gags would feel right at home in Sam Raimi’s earlier films.
Black Sheep inhales and fully harnesses the spirit of schlocky comedy-horrors that came before it. King’s first feature has aged well all thanks to its earnest sense of humor, timeless practical effects, and humble satire. This unique eco-horror is a roaring good time that continues to stand out from the herd.
