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New Zealand is famous for two things: rugby and sheep. And while the All Blacks, with their pre-match Maori wardance, have always been a force to be feared, Black Sheep suggests it's actually the little wooly fellas we should have been scared of all along.
This ludicrous black comedy revolves around the disastrous consequences of an ill-judged attempt to breed the "perfect' sheep by Angus, one of two brothers brought up on a sheep farm (the other, Henry, has long since fled, having developed a debilitating and, as it turns out, prescient fear of things that go baa in the night). What Angus' scientific experiments have begun, two meddling environmentalists complete (shades of 28 Days Later), and before you can say lamb chops and mint sauce we've a strain of ovine killers tearing up the countryside.
The absurdity of this most placid of creatures turning deadly is beautifully drawn out by director Jonathan King. Scenes of sheep glaring into the distance looking for their next target, or surrounding a boarded-up house a la Birds, preparing for attack, are prime visual gags, brilliantly done. King has learnt from another great Kiwi export, Peter Jackson, who, before finding fame and fortune as the Lord Of The Rings director, specialised in hilarious schlock horror flicks like Brain Damage.
Unfortunately, King can't quite last the pace and by the end Black Sheep is clearly running on empty, upping the gore quotient to compensate. But for an hour at least, Black Sheep is as amiably, riotously, stupidly funny as anything you could wish to see.
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