The third episode of Gnomes opens with a sequence that lands with knowing precision. A gnome finds itself trapped inside a microwave, the door slamming shut as the timer ticks down, and the resulting chaos is a clear reference to Gremlins. That early image sets the tone for what follows: a gleeful collision of suburban domesticity and sudden, ridiculous violence. From there the episode settles into the escalating mayhem of Nompton, where the town’s ill-advised festival continues to draw visitors even as the ceramic invaders multiply.
Tourists pour into the streets, drawn by the mayor’s determined insistence that the show must go on. Phone lines are down, bodies have already appeared, and yet the bunting remains strung and the stalls stay open. The contrast between civic denial and the growing threat produces much of the episode’s dry humour. Darren Gilshenan’s mayor clings to the idea of a successful event with the tenacity of a man whose career depends on it, barking orders and papering over cracks while the evidence of something deeply wrong mounts around him.
Meanwhile Arnold and Ellie continue their search for the missing caretaker Berty, moving through gardens and backstreets that have become hunting grounds. The pair’s uneasy partnership, still carrying the residue of their earlier relationship, gains extra friction as the danger intensifies. Asa Butterfield plays Arnold with a mix of earnest competence and barely concealed panic; Megan Smart’s Ellie remains the more pragmatic of the two, issuing clipped instructions even as the situation becomes more bizarre. Their pursuit is interrupted by packs of the little assassins, who move with surprising coordination and a malevolent inventiveness. It all leads to a stolen police car and a sudden ambush that manages to be both tense and absurd, the gnomes’ limited stature making their aggression all the more unsettling.
A standout comedy moment in the episode comes as Police Chief Harvey arrives to their rescue, inexplicably in jogging gear and carrying a pair of nunchucks. While Arnold bumbles around incompentantly, Harvey pairs up with Ellie and the pair start pulling martial arts combinations and swatting gnomes out of the air. What begins as a tense stand-off turns into a chaotic free-for-all as the ceramic figures swarm from all sides. The scene balances slapstick physical comedy with genuine menace as the sheer numbers threaten to overwhelm the three officers.
It is in the aftermath of that car-park melee that Harvey’s character takes a turn both dramatic and faintly ridiculous. Convinced that Arnold and Ellie need a clear escape route, he elects to stay behind and hold the gnomes at bay single-handedly, shouting for the pair to run while he draws the swarm towards himself. The gesture is played with full-throated sincerity, complete with determined square-jawed resolve and a last-minute quip about finally doing something useful. Yet the sacrifice proves entirely unsuccessful as the two survivors end up trapped in the police car without the keys. It undercuts the expected pathos with a deft comic beat, highlighting both Harvey’s well-meaning impulsiveness and the show’s refusal to take its own dramatic flourishes entirely seriously.
The gnomes menace is elevated by the deliberate stop-motion quality of their animation. The gnomes move with a slightly jerky, frame-by-frame stiffness that recalls classic stop-motion work, giving every scuttle, head-turn and raised fist a tactile, handmade charm. Rather than striving for seamless realism, the production leans into that slightly unnatural rhythm, so that a sudden lunge or a collective advance feels both comical and uncanny. The effect is stands out in wider shots where dozens of the figures advance across the car park; the staggered timing of their limbs creates an almost hypnotic wave of pointed hats and painted smiles. Close-ups retain the same quality, with tiny adjustments of posture or the slow tilt of a ceramic head that somehow convey malice more effectively than smoother digital movement ever could. It is a stylistic choice that pays off handsomely, anchoring the horror-comedy tone in something tangible and oddly endearing even as the little killers close in.
While the police do their thing, the town’s delinquent teens are coming up with their own scheme. Zayn, already established as the one with the camera and the curiosity, makes a discovery that shifts the group’s approach from passive observation to active intervention. The plan to capture a gnome alive is reckless and half-formed, yet it feels true to the characters: a cluster of bored small-town youths who have stumbled into something larger than themselves and decide to lean into it rather than run. It’s the classic ’80s set-up where authority figures don’t believe what’s happening so the youth have to take things into their own hands.
The episode’s short runtime help everything work. There’s no padding, moving cleanly between the mayor’s public relations disaster, the adults’ investigation, and the teens’ increasingly bold experiment. Set pieces arrive with satisfying frequency. The humour remains rooted in character rather than constant one-liners and you down have time to think about how stupid this all is.
Arnold’s gradual realisation that the problem is larger than a few rogue ornaments is played with restraint. Ellie’s determination to keep order, even as order collapses, reveals both professionalism and a deeper reluctance to admit how far things have slipped. Among the teens, Zayn’s discovery gives the group a clearer goal and sharpens their internal dynamics; the quieter members begin to assert themselves, and small alliances form under pressure.
A couple of the more graphic moments sit slightly at odds with the prevailing comic register, though they never derail the overall energy. The mayor’s subplot, while entertaining, sometimes risks becoming pure farce at the expense of the growing dread. The Gremlins homage is not merely decorative; it signals the series’ willingness to play with audience expectations about how domestic appliances and everyday objects can become instruments of mayhem.
By the end of the episode the festival has become a thinly veiled disaster zone, the teens are in trying to get the heart of it all, and Arnold and Ellie are trapped inside their car. The everything has escalated very fast. Nompton is no longer merely under threat; it is actively unravelling while its leaders insist everything is fine.
The show has consistent commitment to the central conceit. Garden gnomes are inherently ridiculous, yet once animated and armed they become effective agents of disruption. It doesn’t apologises for or hide from that absurdity; instead it leans into it, finding comedy in the mismatch between the creatures’ appearance and their actions, and tension in the human characters’ reactions to the situations.
Episode three of Gnomes confirms the series’ strengths and speeds evrything up. It delivers set pieces that are both funny and unsettling, and uses its small-town setting to full advantage. Nompton’s problems are only just beginning, and this chapter makes that fact both entertaining, bloody and oddly plausible.
Where to watch Gnomes – Season1, Episode 3: