Shear mastery: Deepanjana Pal writes on The Sheep Detectives

The logo of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (now Amazon MGM Studios) filled the screen, but when the familiar lion opened its jaws, instead of the usual roar, a bleat emerged. For the first time in weeks, I giggled.

Set in the fictional town of Denbrook, which has one policeman and no history of crime, The Sheep Detectives is about a mismatched herd who are fans of crime fiction and decide to investigate the murder of their shepherd (Hugh Jackman). At one point, their guide into the world beyond the farm, a sardonic black sheep named Sebastian (Bryan Cranston; superb as the voice of a former carnival animal with deep scars), is asked: Who is God? Based on what he’s heard, he explains that God is a shepherd, but also a lamb… invisible… made of bread… and is eaten on Sundays.

With its talking animals, gentle humour and cartoonish world, the film (directed by Kyle Balda) has the deceptive simplicity of a well-made children’s story, but is likely to become a favourite of grown-ups too. Tucked into the suspense-less murder mystery is insight that makes The Sheep Detectives feel both profound and silly. Along with punchlines and red herrings, there are meditations on memory, belonging, love, loyalty, loss, trauma and grief.

Bringing its script to life is a star-studded cast: Jackman, in his most avuncular avatar yet; a delightfully imperious Emma Thompson; Nicholas Braun (best known as Cousin Greg from Succession) and Nicholas Galitzine (of Red, White & Royal Blue). The real showstoppers, though, are the sheep, voiced by Cranston, Patrick Stewart, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Regina Hall, Brett Goldstein, Chris O’Dowd and Bella Ramsey, among others.

Adapted from German author Leonie Swann’s novel Three Bags Full (2005), Craig Mazin’s screenplay is rich with poignancy. Mazin is best known for creating and writing the brilliant miniseries Chernobyl (2019) and the videogame-based dystopian series The Last of Us (2023-). He knows how to make a story walk an elegant tightrope between deep sadness and quiet hope.

This film is a reminder that, for all the sadness we must bear, there is also joy. It finds beauty in clouds without silver linings, and is an ode to the stories we tell to comfort ourselves.

The Sheep Detectives is not meant for little children, but it is ideal for movie nights with the family. It’s a comfort watch that isn’t afraid of big emotions. It makes one grateful for having love, and being loved.

I am glad I saw it in a theatre, even though it will be as entertaining on a smaller screen. Irrespective of what is playing, the movie hall is a place of enchantment. The first time my parents took me to one, I am told, I was so young that, standing on the tips of my toes, I could barely see above the backs of the seats. Watching movies on the big screen was one of the many things my father wanted to share with me.

Theatres have been a place that let us escape the real world, but also helped us make sense of the chaos of life. My father had known wonder there, and wanted me to have that talisman.

The road to the multiplex in Kochi where I watched The Sheep Detectives, then, began decades ago, in a single-screen cinema in Delhi, with my father, who always perked up at the mention of movies but is now too worn out by illness to do anything more than doomscroll.

The dark cocoon of the cinema gave me a place to sit with difficult feelings; to cry without being pitied, laugh out loud and, for a little while, push dread to the margins of a tired mind.

At the end of this movie, I returned, once again, to a real world that was as broken and tilted towards despair as when I’d walked in. But thanks to a flock of talking sheep, I came out of the darkness with a little more joy than before. That’s movie magic done right.

(Write to Deepanjana Pal @dpanjana on Instagram. The views expressed are personal)