Larger-Than-Life Review: Wallace, Gromit and Friends Say 'Cheese' in Aardman's Origin Comedy

Light Room, London: From Shaun's warehouse to Gromit's box, these immersive renders behind the scenes of smirking, cheeky characters are joyful and massive, and hard to keep up with. Nothing is safe from the peril of immersion. They have turned Gustav Klimt and Vincent van Gogh into vast, mapped digital environments. They have defined the moon landing, dinosaur and David Bowie stories from floor to ceiling as electronic glasses

Nothing is safe from drowning. They have transformed Gustav Klimt and Vincent Van Gogh into vast, mapped digital environments. They have told stories of the moon landing and dinosaurs and David Bowie as floor-to-ceiling electronic glasses. And now they have come for Aardman. For Wallace and Gromit and Shaun the Sheep, our national treasures. Nothing is sacred?

The newest immersive cinematic experience in Lightroom is a grand and spectacular celebration from Aardman Animations, the company behind the world's favorite animated films and TV shows. Between documentary storytelling, behind-the-scenes insight and stunning renderings of all the Northern favourites, it moves with a wide, unabashed grin.

We hear how Peter Lord and David Sproxton met in the Surrey countryside and started mixing clay, before joining forces with Nick Park and setting off a chain of events that takes them from Woking to the stars. We hear how they first made a morph out of a clay ball, how the animators hilariously play out entire scenes to portray themselves before moving on to the puppets, how they turn mouths into the "eeee" sound of the word cheese, all with Shaun the Sheep doing a warehouse-based talent show and showing clips from their biggest cinema.

And it makes a compelling argument for why Aardman is so important and so popular with so many people. Early on, it cuts to a clip from A Grand's 1989 Day Out, Wallace and Gromit's first film. On this massive scale you see every lump and bump in the clay, every fingerprint and smudge. It looks so real, so human. "I think people still crave imperfection," says director Lucy Izzard in voiceover, and you think, yes, that's it, that's why Aardman matters. In an age when everything seems surprisingly inhuman, it's something remarkably human.

Does that handmade, imperfect, homely aesthetic clash uncomfortably with the technological wizardry of immersive cinema? It certainly does. But the bigger issue is that this experience doesn't really know what it wants to be.

The show ends up being half documentary and half music video, becoming neither in the process, and it's a bit hard to follow. It doesn't even take full advantage of Lightroom's features. It could be bolder, it could be more fun, it could play with the all-around format a little bit more.

One good use of this technology is the side screens that make you feel like you're in different environments: the sheep barn, Gromit's cardboard box as he spies on Feathers McGraw, behind the recording desk as the actors do their voices. But it is not quite enough.

Some fun stuff here. It's great to see Creature Comforts recreated in living rooms and gardens, it's great to see all the concept art and storyboards come to life, it's great to see Peter Gabriel's amazing Sledgehammer video on such a massive scale. It just lacks the immersive thrills of Lightroom's recent Prehistory: Discover the Dinosaurs crowd.

As a jaded contemporary art critic, I might not be the target audience, so I brought along someone named Solomon. What are his conditions? Well, he's four, and he went to see the latest Shaun the Sheep movie yesterday, so you could say he's something of a young moviegoer. Also, her dad (me) is a critic, so she's probably genetically predisposed to this.

In the middle, I ask what he thinks. "When does the movie start? It's just publicity," he says. He's right - it all sounds like an advertisement for Aardman. "When does the movie start?" she asks again, more impatient this time, almost pleading. "It is," I say. "It's kind of a documentary." He stares at me blankly and then yawns. Oh, he's really critical.

Not really enough for kids, and the storytelling isn't strong enough for adults. It's a trick in the narrative, as if they haven't asked, "How can we create an amazing immersive experience?" But instead, he asked, "How can we tell our story in a comprehensive way?" And those two propositions are different.

This show doesn't detract from Aardman's astronomical reputation, and it doesn't take away from all the amazing, weird, weird, and funny stuff they've done, but it doesn't add a whole lot to it either. More than a rubber glove on the head than an achievement.