Sublime, sublime movie. A classic in its own lunchtime. A classy old English comedy, rivaling the best of what Ealing had to offer, with knockabout action sequences which, in a fair world, would make Will Farrell give up and go home. Wordplay worthy of Wodehouse. A script which makes you care about the characters. To top it all, this film even managed to beat Peter Jackson to the punch: in many respects it is a King Kong for our time.
If you haven’t seen Wallace & Gromit in The Curse of The Ware-Rabbit, you should make it a life priority.
Basically this is a return-to-form for Wallace & Gromit after the not-awful-but-not-exactly-inspired A Close Shave. It’s as good as The Wrong Trousers, for many of the same reasons; it has a similar B-movie-schlock tone mixed in with the comfortable-England slippers-and-garden-shed-invention. The ill-starred good-intentions of Wallace set against the unsung nobility of Gromit.
Gromit really is the architypal Brittish hero. If it were Holywood, Gromit would not only save the day, but receive the plaudits and win the girl-dog at the end. As it is, his pluck and stoicism win the day and he goes completely unrewarded. What a dog.