Ah, the sheer delight when a new Wallace & Gromit short film was announced back in the mid-90s! After the cracking success of The Wrong Trousers (1993), the anticipation was palpable. Landing on our screens in 1995 (often remembered alongside its VHS release which really took off around '96), A Close Shave didn't just meet expectations; it delivered another perfectly sculpted slice of stop-motion genius, brimming with invention, humour, and a surprising amount of knitwear-related peril. Pull up a comfy chair, maybe grab a biscuit – let’s rewind this particular tape.

This time, our favourite Plasticine pair, the cheese-loving inventor Wallace (voiced with unforgettable Northern charm by the late, great Peter Sallis) and his ever-resourceful canine companion Gromit, have embarked on a new venture: "Wash 'n' Go" window cleaning. Their latest contraption, a motorbike and sidecar combo equipped for high-rise sudsing, is pure Wallace – ingenious, slightly over-engineered, and prone to delightful chaos. But there’s trouble brewing in their quiet town. Sheep are vanishing at an alarming rate, and a local wool shop run by the lovely Wendolene Ramsbottom (Anne Reid, bringing warmth and a touch of mystery) seems unusually well-stocked. It doesn't take long for Wallace, smitten with Wendolene, and the more astute Gromit to get tangled up in a proper Hitchcockian yarn... involving a flock of bewildered sheep, a sinister cyber-dog named Preston, and the introduction of one particularly endearing little lamb.

Yes, this is the short that gave us Shaun the Sheep! Initially just one of the rustled flock who accidentally ends up shrunk in Wallace's Knit-o-Matic machine (another glorious invention), Shaun's cheeky personality and instant bond with Gromit made him an immediate standout. It’s a testament to the incredible character design and animation by director Nick Park and his Aardman Animations team that this little ball of fluff stole so many scenes. Few could have predicted back then, watching him navigate Wallace’s home with wide-eyed curiosity, that he’d go on to headline his own globally successful TV series and movies. It’s one of those wonderful bits of cinematic serendipity – a supporting character capturing hearts so completely. Aardman, co-writing here with Bob Baker (whose eclectic credits also include writing for Doctor Who!), clearly knew they'd struck gold.
Watching A Close Shave again is a reminder of the sheer artistry and patience involved in stop-motion animation. Every frame is a miniature sculpture brought to life. The expressiveness Nick Park wrings from Gromit – purely through brow movements, ear twitches, and posture – remains unparalleled. He conveys more emotion with a subtle glance than many actors manage with pages of dialogue. And the action! The climactic chase sequence involving the Wash 'n' Go motorbike, a runaway flock, and Preston’s menacing lorry is a masterclass in miniature filmmaking. The detail in the sets, the tangible textures of the clay and wool, the sheer kinetic energy – it’s breathtaking. Reportedly, the Aardman team was only managing a few seconds of finished film per day, a mind-boggling commitment that shines through in the flawless final product. This dedication didn't go unnoticed; A Close Shave deservedly snagged the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film, Wallace & Gromit's second consecutive Oscar after The Wrong Trousers.


While packed with visual gags, clever wordplay ("A Close Shave" indeed!), and Wallace's endearing cluelessness, the short also weaves in genuine heart. Wallace's tentative romance with Wendolene adds a sweet, slightly melancholic layer, especially with the reveal of her connection to the villainous Preston (who, let's be honest, was genuinely quite intimidating!). Gromit, meanwhile, gets framed for the sheep rustling in a plot point straight out of a classic thriller, leading to a brief but memorable stint behind bars. It balances the absurdity with moments of real warmth and even a touch of danger, making the adventure all the more engaging. I distinctly remember renting this one repeatedly from the local video shop; the sturdy plastic clamshell case practically lived next to our VCR for a while. Each viewing revealed new background details or subtle jokes missed the first time around.

A Close Shave is pure, unadulterated joy captured in clay. It builds perfectly on its predecessors, delivering ingenious contraptions, hilarious set pieces (the porridge gun!), unforgettable characters (hello Shaun!), and a genuinely thrilling plot. The handcrafted artistry is phenomenal, Peter Sallis and Anne Reid provide wonderful voice work, and the blend of cosy British charm with mild peril is executed flawlessly. It loses perhaps a tiny sliver of perfection compared to the tightly wound The Wrong Trousers, but only by the narrowest of margins. It’s a near-perfect example of animated storytelling that feels both timeless and wonderfully of its era.
It’s more than just a short film; it’s a warm, woolly hug from a bygone age of animation – and the birthplace of a global sheep superstar. Cracking stuff, indeed!