Sixteen years is a long time to leave a fanbase perched precariously at the edge of anticipation, but Wallace & Gromit:Vengeance Most Fowl proves that Nick Park’s most beloved duo can step out of the plasticine shadows unscathed. In their first feature since 2005’s The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, the cheese-loving tinkerer and his long-suffering beagle find themselves in an oddly prescient predicament: the perils of artificial intelligence. Yet, in true Aardman fashion, this fresh tale of caution is about as threatening as a cup of tea left too long to cool.
The latest caper sees Wallace (voiced by a charming Ben Whitehead, following Peter Sallis’s passing) going through an unprecedented stroke of tech-obsession. His latest creation is a creepy, sentient garden gnome, marketed as the latest in labor-saving devices but one that ends up a pawn in the revenge plot of Feathers McGraw — the silent, sinister penguin villain of 1993’s Oscar-winning The Wrong Trousers. Feathers, now operating from a high-security zoo, hijacks the “Norbot” to orchestrate a heist that quickly evolves into a delightfully absurd parade of AI-driven gardening chaos, a subnautical escape plan and a daring final act that culminates in one of the most unenthused canal chases ever animated.
If there’s a word to encapsulate Vengeance Most Fowl, it’s “cozy.” Aardman’s trademark hand-crafted charm is alive and well, complete with those endearing thumbprints in the clay that betray a human touch. Yet, there’s a faintly suspicious gloss to the action sequences — a telltale sign of subtle CGI meddling. Still, the studio’s dogged devotion to stop-motion stands as its crown jewel, a comforting relic in an industry increasingly seduced by sterile precision in the pursuit of hyperrealism.
A still from ‘Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl’
| Photo Credit:
Netflix
Though the film treads comfortable territory, that same coziness feels, at times, like a double-edged sword. Vengeance Most Fowl seems mostly content to walk the well-trodden path of its predecessors, leaning heavily on callbacks and familiar tropes rather than carving out something truly fresh. Where The Wrong Trousers redefined animated storytelling with its iconic model-train chase, this sequel’s set pieces rarely ascend to the same inventive heights. A showdown between Gromit and Feathers at the film’s climax is riotous fun, but one can’t help but feel the echoes of better-executed gags from years past.
Vengeance Most Fowl does carry a surprisingly incisive critique of our relationship with technology. Wallace’s blundering reliance on machines mirrors our own brainrotted dependency on algorithms to navigate the mundane. Equal parts Alexa and HAL 9000, the Norbot embodies both the convenience and danger of automating our lives, lest we doomscroll into oblivion. Yet, in typical Aardman fashion, the commentary is delivered with a lightness that avoids cynicism and invites us to laugh at Wallace’s folly without sermonising.
The standouts are the film’s mute maestros. Gromit remains the quintessential master of expression whose genius lies in restraint: a raised eyebrow, a sidelong glance, or the faintest hint of exasperation conveys oceans of pathos. Naturally, the internet has done its part in elevating the beloved beagle to mythic status — the proliferation of “Gromit subplot” memes likening his death-defying stunts to the exploits of Ethan Hunt or Indiana Jones (though it’s clear he’s working much harder for much less appreciation).
And then of course we have evil incarnate itself. The notorious monochrome menace is so brazenly unrepentant, he can upend worlds with his soulless, unblinking stare. This feathered Nietzschean nightmare has turned the world’s most innocuous bird into a symbol of calculated malice who builds organs into his getaway vehicles to pound Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, because why wouldn’t he?
A still from ‘Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl’
| Photo Credit:
Netflix
What keeps Vengeance Most Fowl afloat is Aardman’s sustained effort to balance nostalgia with craftsmanship. The film brims with lovingly constructed details, from background gags to deliberate pacing that allows moments to breathe, to even a blink-and-miss nod to Shaun the Sheep. It’s a kind of storytelling that feels increasingly rare in the frenzy of modern animation that feels compelled to dazzle with relentless spectacle.
At its core, this film is less about reinvention and more about reaffirmation. The British national icons aren’t here to redefine themselves; rather, to remind us why we loved them in the first place. And if the film doesn’t quite capture the lightning-in-a-bottle brilliance of its predecessors, it compensates with a warmth and wit that feels like a well-worn sweater on a chilly winter morning. Some things don’t need to be newfangled to be cracking good fun.
Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl is currently streaming on Netflix
Published – January 03, 2025 06:14 pm IST
English cinema
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