[Published on HighonFilms.com] A World Already Dead: Hope and Despair in Angel’s Egg (1985)

The following article was published to High on Films on 27/02/2024

(This article contains spoilers)

“Apocalypse has come and gone. We’re all just grubbing in the ashes.” – Samuel R. Delaney

It’s hard to explain the plot of Angel’s Egg. You either risk giving away too much, or explaining too little. Suffice it to say that the film follows a little girl and a soldier who wander a Giger-esque landscape as The Girl carries an egg with her, protecting it beneath the folds of her clothes. The plot simply unfolds through their journey, zen-like and atmospheric, and to give a list of the handful of important events would rob them of their potency.

The final product is a meditation on the nature of despair. With precious little dialogue, and only a handful of clues to the nature of the apocalypse that has seized this world, Angel’s Egg is a film that succeeds through its style and its symbolism. The bizarre art nouveau style of the blue/black city is at once frightening and spellbinding. We enter a hauntingly beautiful purgatory for the viewer to live in as the little girl paces from one set piece to the next. As we discover more of the ruined city, and the beauty woven into its bleakness, we’re forced to ruminate on the nature of this place, and what of it, if anything, can be redeemed.

The Girl is seeking this redemption, even if, for a time, she doesn’t remember it. While it’s hard to say exactly what she expects from the egg that she carries, we learn that her journey represents a rebirth. The world of Angel’s Egg is full of rich, moody blues and harsh blacks including the golgotha of fossils that the girl calls her home, the twilight forests beyond, and the desolate fishing town (three of the only locations we see). Yet the girl and her egg stand out in pale alabaster white, clothed in deep burgundy and powder pink, distinguishing her from the soulless city and its wraith-like inhabitants. She scavenges the wasteland for jam and crystal flasks, patiently waiting (for what might be millenia) for the day the egg hatches into something that can find the salvation man has given up searching for.

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