Few styles of filmmaking have undergone quite as interesting a shift over the past few decades as animation – the nostalgia of classical, two-dimensional animation combined with efforts to increase what is possible with technology and other different styles has made it a formidable industry all on its own, with every year yielding magnificent works, each one distinct and memorable in their own way. Whether produced by established studios, or independently made, we can find a range of unforgettable works that push the boundaries of animation and challenge all conventions in ways that many of us didn’t expect possible. However, there is always some merit in going back to the origins of a particular kind of animation, whether for the sake of nostalgia or simply to understand the roots of what would become an industry-standard in some way. Stop-motion animation has had a storied history – considered one of the most difficult styles to master (since it entails hours of meticulously detailed work), but also celebrated as amongst the most beloved, these works are often more rare to find, mainly because of the effort needed to create them. As a result, each one is bespoke, and normally tends to develop very strong connections with audiences. Aardman Animations has always stood as arguably the most well-known of the studios that work primarily in stop-motion, with Nick Park and his gaggle of gifted colleagues being responsible for some of the most important entries into the genre – and while they are most remembered for the iconic duo of Wallace and Gromit (who have become their mascots), they have expanded and brought their style to a few other terrific films – and of these, Chicken Run is one of their most beloved. Not only their first feature-length film, but also possibly their peak as a studio (which is not an easy assessment to make, considering the impeccable quality of their work), the film remains as fresh and funny today as it was over two decades ago, consolidating this studio as amongst the most important in contemporary animation.

Analysing the success of a film like Chicken Run is both insightful and very entertaining – after all, this is a film that is built almost entirely on giving the audience an opportunity to abandon all inhibitions and just have fun. It almost seems redundant to try and unpack the reasons behind its reputation, since everyone that has seen it walks away enthralled and riveted, mostly for the same reasons. There’s a level of detail that underpins this film and makes it so enjoyable – we can start by looking at the people behind this film (who are the most integral aspect, considering the work that needed to be done).  Nick Park is the mastermind behind Aardman Animations and the person that has stood at the helm of nearly all of their major productions, whether as a director or producer in later years, and collaborated on this film with his co-director, Peter Lord, who has taken on a more dominant position within the studio in recent years, acting as a producer on every one of their productions. They worked together to create a film that acts as both a delightfully irreverent comedy about anthropomorphic chickens and other farmyard creatures, while still being a subversive and very clever pastiche of a number of other genres, particularly the riveting war dramas such as The Great Escape (after which the film is modelled both visually and narratively) and The Dirty Dozen, solid and entertaining films that keep the audience engaged and invested, but never overstay their welcome, offering us the precise amount of content we need to enjoy the material before setting us on our way and giving us the opportunity to have experienced a truly compelling but otherwise straightforward experience. This has always been the mantra of Aardman Animations – they focus on creating films that are entertaining for every demographic, which they do through striking the perfect balance between strong stories, well-crafted humour and authentic emotions, which are certainly not elements that come easily, especially when we are dealing with a film that is quite literally constructed out of mounds of clay, which only proves the brilliance of Park and Lord, as well as their team, all of whom were deeply committed to bringing this story to life.

At the heart of Chicken Run is an ensemble that was brought in to bring these characters to life – many don’t realize that voice acting is not as easy as simply recording lines (at least not in any decent production), but rather a very different way of performing, one in which the actors are tasked with bringing the same level of emotion, humour and personality to their characters as if they were playing them in person, all done through the use of their voices. This is precisely why there is a massive culture of actors that specialize in voice acting, since it’s not an easy craft – and while this film does mainly employ recognizable actors from outside the animation industry to give voice to these characters, the same process of ensuring that their performances are as complex as if they were being filmed themselves was required. It’s not necessarily a film remembered for its voice performances, but everyone in it feels so perfectly tailor-made to their parts, with Julia Sawalha, Imelda Staunton, Jane Horrocks, Phil Daniels and Timothy Spall (one has to wonder whether Chicken Run had a devotee to the films of Mike Leigh somewhere in its staff) all bringing a level of professionalism and dedication to their performances. There is an intelligence to these performances that actually manage to add depth and nuance to the film, and while very few of us will necessarily walk away from this film remembering the performances above other aspects, it is a potent reminder that a good animated film depends on strong voice work (at least in terms of those that have speaking characters – Aardman Animations has actually shown that it isn’t even necessary to have dialogue in a film at all, with their Shaun the Sheep franchise being some of the most impeccable works in modern animation), and that they can complement an already endearing storyline with their solid performances.

More than anything else, Chicken Run is simply a piece of near-flawless artistry. If we set aside the hilarious writing and compelling story, we find that this is a film that is quite literally handcrafted by some of the finest artists of their generation. Stop-motion animation is often seen as a labour of love – it’s not unheard of to find directors taking several years to work on a single film (in the span of over two decades since they have been making feature-length films, Aardman Animation has only produced a total of nine films, with all but two of them being stop-motion) with the sheer amount of effort needed to bring these stories to life likely coming as a surprise to many viewers. However, Park has always made it very clear that this is his passion, and with his eye for detail and ability to evoke such unique stories, it’s not surprising that he would dedicate so much time to putting such a film together. It was an enormous gamble – they had previously only made short-subject films that ran a quarter of the time of this film, which essentially meant that they knew they could succeed in small doses, but the possibility of replicating such adoration on a slightly bigger scale was a risk. Needless to say, the results speak for themselves – Chicken Run became an instant sensation within the industry (that quickly commissioned several stop-motion films, since they saw immediate value in this style of filmmaking), and amongst audiences and critics, who noted how the strong writing seamlessly blended with the unique animation style to create something we had never seen before, at least not in as mainstream a format as this, which is where the most significant differences between this film and pale imitations reside, of which there are far too many to even mention.

Stop-motion animation was not invented by Nick Park and his cohorts – several filmmakers had been experimenting with the medium for decades, many of them being known only to those truly devoted to this style of filmmaking, which is not an easy artistic endeavour. However, Aardman Animations certainly did help bring visibility to the medium, so it’s not surprising that their first major work is often seen as the epitome of artistry and design, and has been upheld as a masterpiece of the medium, the gold standard of a medium known for its difficulty and tendency towards being extraordinarily time-consuming. However, we live in a culture driven by the principle that the more time spent on a project, the more detailed and compelling it will be, and while this is a dangerous generalization, I think we can all agree that when it comes to this style of filmmaking, time is an ally to the artistic process. Chicken Run is such a quaint and often quite silly film, yet it undeniably earns its reputation as a masterpiece – whether due to the effortless joy that exudes from every frame, or the strong story that both pays homage and actively lampoons very popular genres (while never being mean-spirited) or, most notably, the stunning animation, which may look simple and pedestrian from a distance, but once we get closer and see the level of detail embedded in every frame, its difficult to not be totally enraptured by the experience. Chicken Run is a special film, and even a quarter of a century later, it still holds up as a classic of its genre, and just generally a terrific film in terms of both form and content.