L'uovo dell'angelo

Tenshi no tamago made me feel things, and that's all I care. I could go on theorizing about the meaning of the movie, what the fish symbolize and the film's religious imagery; but instead, I'm going to focus on how this movie made me feel. It made me feel lonely. It made me feel scared. It made me feel like a little girl running thorugh a desolate world, carrying a giant egg. The animations is stunning. The desolate landscapes are beautifully drawn and the characters (particuraly the little girl) are goergously animated. I may not have understood everything that was presented to me, but I did feel it.

Tenshi no Tamago - Angel's Egg - is a very rare type of movie. It is a movie that does not spell the plot out in big bold type. Instead the meaning of the story is told in symbolic imagery and left to the viewer to interpret and understand. Some believe it tells of the director's own loss of faith in religion, and society's blind devotion to belief in mythical and imaginary things.

The film's visuals are utterly beautiful, with designs from Yoshitaka Amano, and with Mamoru Oshii's breath-taking direction in full force. The soundtrack too is sublime, composed by Yoshihiro Kanno and one of only a few he ever composed for movies.

Films as meaningful, thoughtful, and beautiful as this should never be missed. If you value the art form of cinema, then watch Angel's Egg and be amazed. If you prefer wall to wall explosions then look elsewhere.

This movie requires more work than most people are willing to put in, and ultimately is a useful tool to gauge one's own film expectations.

Where some complain of pace, I was content to listen to the glorious music (as even the characters on screen did) and allow it to tell me the story.

Only after I was forced to view a still image for an interminable amount of time, and feel the anger rise up in me as I imagined the creators of the film laughing at me, did I notice that it created the necessary tension for what was the climax of the film.

I enjoyed having to pay attention to the details of the film, such as how loud the running water was, and what happened when that volume changed; such as whose perspective was I looking from at a particular moment and why; such as why the image persisted but the sound did not, or vice versa; such as why the floor in the beginning looks like a chess board, and who seemed to win at the end.

The less you enjoy thinking about these things, the less you will enjoy this film about shattered innocence, life, death, birth, dreams, causality, and memory.

"Maybe you, I, and the fish only exist in the memory of a person who is long gone. Maybe no one really exists and it's only raining outside."

Beautiful, evocative visuals, but a slow, rather opaque story, one that's awash in Christian and apocalyptic symbolism. You can decide for yourself what it all means, or that it means nothing, and it's only raining outside.

My take: In this world of shadows, fossils, and death, the only hope for new life lies in the egg the girl carries around, similar to Noah's ark after the flood. In this telling of the tale, though, the Christ or God-like figure tells her that the doves don't return to the ark, and later crushes the egg. It seems rather dark and pessimistic - and yet, life seems to have a way of bubbling to the surface on its own, and when viewed from a distance, the world and all its troubles seem rather small.

This film is not live-action, nor is it a short. What it is is the quintessential Mamoru Oshii (Ghost in the Shell) film, a haunting, ethereal drama more concerned with imagery and mood than with plot or characterization. A young girl (lavishly designed by animator-turned-fine artist Yoshitaka Amano) wanders the desolate streets of a dark, nightmarish world; her fragile faith rests in the form of a gigantic egg, which she hopes to protect. Eventually, she meets an enigmatic stranger bearing a crucifix and a decidedly pragmatic worldview ("You have to break an egg if you are to know what's inside," he tells her). This is Oshii at his most obtuse, and even he claims to not know the true meaning of this film. The film is a pure work of art, however, free from all commercial baggage. For this reason, it should be viewed by everyone with a genuine interest in the art of animation. Note: Beware the Roger Corman film "In the Aftermath," which takes some footage from this film and places it in a different context.