Death Laid An Egg (La morte ha fatto l'uovo)
Every once in a while a film throws me for a loop and this is one of them. In fact I'm still processing it, as La morte ha fatto l'uovo is one of those films that defies conventions and exists in its own sphere, to which I'm developing (as I say, I'm still processing it) something of a love/hate relationship with it.
Labelled a giallo, this 1968 offering doesn't follow the strict formula we've come to expect from the genre, but takes a rather more arthouse and psychedelic approach - a giallo by way of the Nouvelle Vague if you like. On one hand it's got some striking imagery - almost surgical and surprisingly un-kitch - and the actors are watchable if somewhat morose. The lead is played by Jean-Louis Trintignant, who we saw most recently in Michael Haneke's Amour , as a husband caught in a three way love-triangle with his poultry farm owning wife (Gina Lollobrigida) and her beautiful young cousin (Ewa Aulin). There's plots to kill and mutant chickens involved, but it's often vague - frustratingly so at times. And that's where the problem lies - it's clearly an anti-capatalist film, but for all its revolutionary intentions it can be a slog with its character's cold, stilted delivery and general lack of fun, despite some wry humour and sly pokes at its subjects. Bruno Maderna's score deserves a special mention, as it's been a while since a score made such an impression for all the wrong reasons. It's quite possibly genius, but maddeningly infuriating - a jarring, avant garde composition that often sounds like someone randomly hammering on a piano, while another strums an out of tune guitar - occasionally overlaid by vocals that sound like the mutterings of a madman. It's deranged, which on one hand fits the movie perfectly, but I can't say it didn't set my teeth on edge.
There were moments I hated this film for its dourness, icy impenetrability and irritating score, and others when I admired its complete lack of convention. Either way I can't stop thinking about it. And for all its infuriating quirks, I actually want to see it again.
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