IN THE gory-ous tradition of early Peter Jackson efforts Bad Taste and Brain Dead, Black Sheep sprays the claret with complete disregard for nicety and intelligent gags.
Which is just as a splatterfest should be.
New Zealand and its majority shareholders of occupancy are ripe for bad jokes, and they're all wheeled out in this tale of genetic engineering and zombie sheep, as Henry Oldfield returns to his childhood farm only to find his brother fiddling about with woolly workings.
A failed experiment is released by a couple of animal welfare hippies and the carnage begins.
Black Sheep could do with a handful of better jokes but the innards-distribution impresses.
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