Directed by Richard Starzak and Mark Burton. Rated G.

Counting sheep turns out to be a wake-up call for lovers of old-school animation in Shaun the Sheep Movie. Just as there will always be an England, there will always be an audience for the stop-motion storytelling of Aardman Animations, the Bristol-based company that had its breakthrough with Nick Park’s 1989 Oscar-winning short “Creature Comforts”.

Among many successful follow-ups, including Chicken Run and various Wallace and Gromit adventures, has been the Shaun the Sheep BBC-TV series, airing since 2007. Shaun and his woolly pals were originally supporting players in W&G’s bucolic setting. Wallace’s Yorkshire accent seemed to place him geographically, but there are no accents or, indeed, spoken words in this spinoff enjoyed by children worldwide. Even without dialogue—apart from squeals, grunts, and inquisitive locutions—the personalities and situations in this Movie remain recognizably British.

Things start with an Up-like prologue showing the Farmer (John Sparkes) aging into routine-obsessed bachelorhood. By now, the daily grind at Mossy Bottom is getting to Shaun (Justin Fletcher), differentiated from rather blaaaand pals by his white-tufted crown and a prankish nature. He stages an ungulating mini-revolt, getting the Farmer out of the house so his sheeple can snag some couch time with telly and popcorn. The plan works too well, and our ruminant-enumerating human—the deepest sleeper you’ve ever seen—finds himself accidentally transported to the Big City. When Shaun finally discovers this, he and Bitzer, a loyal but silent sheepdog, get the flock out of there to go find their errant owner.

The urban setting is as frenetic as the farm is peaceful, and writer-directors Richard Starzak and Mark Burton (both Aardman veterans, although Burton also worked on Madagascar) enjoy all the street signs and shop windows, loaded with in-jokes to keep grownups amused. (Intriguingly, there are at least two references to Cape Fear.) Amid the burg’s happily multicultural population, there’s one villain afoot: a sadistic, self-important animal-control officer who happens to be called Trumper. So Shaun and company must keep moving quickly, through 85 minutes of family-friendly mayhem.

The soundtrack runs from gooey Foo Fighters to sleazy wah-wah guitars and, most appropriately, some ’80s ska from Madness. All in all, there are enough animal high jinks here to make at least a temporary vegetarian out of the most dedicated mutton-lover.