Counting Sheep (film)

Lore & Background

The plot is set in 1993 Spain. Lonely Ernesto lives in a ruinous building and can barely sleep because of noise from his neighbors. Some of his creations—a group of sheep made of papier-mâché—come to life and persuade him into doing unthinkable things. The film is a Spanish-Argentine co-production by Aquí y Allí Films, Wanka Cine, Lanube Películas, and To Each His Strangers AIE, with backing from ICAA, INCAA, Ibermedia, Canal Sur, and Filmin. It was shot in Madrid. Distributed by Filmax, the film was released theatrically in Spain on 13 April 2022.

Reader's Guide

Counting Sheep received mixed but notable critical attention. Fernando Bernal of Cinemanía rated it 3 out of 5 stars, calling it a 'stimulating debut film between [a] costumbrista thriller and [a] nightmare.' Beatriz Martínez of El Periódico de Catalunya also rated it 3 out of 5 stars, describing it as 'an unclassifiable work, full of kamikaze ideas and with a murky and uncomfortable background that runs through it from beginning to end.' The film represents a co-production effort between Spanish and Argentine companies, with support from major film institutes and regional broadcasters. Its release in April 2022 added to the slate of Spanish and Argentine films that year, though its surreal premise and dark comedic tone set it apart from more conventional releases.

Did You Know?

• The film is a Spanish-Argentine co-production.
• It was shot in Madrid.
• The plot involves papier-mâché sheep that come to life.
• The film was released theatrically in Spain on 13 April 2022.

Plot & Creative Vision

Set against the backdrop of 1993 Spain, Counting Sheep follows Ernesto, a profoundly lonely man trapped in a crumbling, dilapidated building where the constant din of his neighbors makes restful sleep nearly impossible. The film's central conceit is both whimsical and unsettling: the papier-mâché sheep Ernesto has crafted as personal creations suddenly animate, breaking the boundary between his handmade objects and the living world. Rather than offering comfort, these newly sentient figures push Ernesto toward actions he would never have considered on his own, dragging him into a spiral of increasingly unthinkable behavior. The narrative operates as a black comedy, blending dark humor with a sense of creeping dread. The 1993 setting grounds the story in a specific historical moment in Spain, while the ruinous apartment and the oppressive neighbor noise create a claustrophobic atmosphere that amplifies Ernesto's isolation. The film's title, Contando ovejas in its original Spanish, evokes the old bedtime practice of counting sheep to fall asleep — a practice that, for Ernesto, becomes something far more disturbing when those sheep decide to count him instead.

Production & Co-Production

Counting Sheep emerged from a collaborative Spanish-Argentine production effort, bringing together a constellation of independent production houses. The film was a joint venture of Aquí y Allí Films, Wanka Cine, Lanube Películas, and To Each His Strangers AIE, reflecting the transnational nature of its creative origins. Financial and institutional support came from a broad spectrum of public and private bodies, including Spain's ICAA, Argentina's INCAA, the Ibermedia fund, Canal Sur, and the streaming platform Filmin — a combination that speaks to the film's appeal across both national film industries and the broader Iberian and Latin American cultural sphere. Principal photography took place in Madrid, anchoring the production in the Spanish capital despite its Argentine co-production status. Distribution was handled by Filmax, one of Spain's most prominent independent distributors, and the film reached Spanish theatrical audiences on 13 April 2022. The involvement of multiple funding agencies and production companies underscores the film's position within a network of cross-border cinematic collaboration that is characteristic of contemporary Spanish and Argentine cinema.

Cast & Direction

At the helm of Counting Sheep stands director José Corral Llorente, for whom this project represents a feature-film debut — a fact that critics noted with particular interest. The film's two principal roles are carried by Eneko Sagardoy and Natalia de Molina, whose performances anchor the black comedy's blend of absurdity and emotional vulnerability. Sagardoy embodies Ernesto, the insomniac, isolated protagonist whose quiet desperation is upended when his craftwork takes on a life of its own. De Molina's presence in the cast adds another layer to the film's interpersonal dynamics, though the narrative's central engine remains Ernesto's relationship with his animated creations. The choice to cast these two actors in a story that oscillates between the domestic and the surreal gives the film a grounded, almost intimate quality that contrasts sharply with its more fantastical elements. As a debut, the film demonstrates a directorial voice willing to court discomfort and genre ambiguity, positioning itself somewhere between social observation and nightmare logic. The black comedy register Corral Llorente adopts allows the film to maintain a winking distance from its most disturbing moments while never fully relinquishing their emotional weight.

Reception & Critical Response

Critics who encountered Counting Sheep in its April 2022 theatrical run responded with a mix of admiration and bewilderment, a reaction that seems fitting for a film that resists easy categorization. Fernando Bernal, writing for Cinemanía, awarded the film three out of five stars and characterized it as a 'stimulating debut film' that hovers between the traditions of the constumbrista thriller — a distinctly Spanish genre focused on social observation — and the logic of a nightmare. His verdict captures the film's tonal duality: it is simultaneously a grounded story about a lonely man in a bad building and a fever-dream in which inanimate objects conspire against their creator. Beatriz Martínez of El Periódico de Catalunya also gave the film three stars but emphasized its resistance to classification, calling it 'an unclassifiable work' brimming with what she described as kamikaze ideas. She highlighted the film's 'murky and uncomfortable background,' a quality she felt permeated every scene from opening to closing credits. Both reviews converge on the sense that Counting Sheep is a deliberately disorienting experience, one that prioritizes emotional unease over narrative comfort and rewards viewers willing to sit with its strangeness.